The Curse of Avalon Book 2
by Sariah Skye
Genre: Paranormal RH Romance
Now? Everything has changed. The only family I’ve ever known? Betrayed me. My best friend lives clear across the city, and I seem to have the favor of four gorgeous, reluctant incubi. That complicates things a bit.
Also, I have this powerful magic coursing through my veins: the power of the mythical isle of Avalon. It’s real, I promise—I feel it every day. If I don’t learn how to control it, I might just end up hurting the people closest to me. Mathias, Trystan, Bash, and Xander are the new sworn protectors of Avalon—me. They’re powerful, but this magic? Might be more so.
I’m resisting the magic and trying to figure out who I am again.
Losing my control? It's probable. Losing my heart, split among four gorgeous men? Yeah, I’m sure it’s only inevitable
(this is a slower-burn paranormal/ reverse harem romance, like the first book in the series. Due to language and adult content, the entire series is recommended for adults 18+)
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Okay, I admit I don’t know who “they” are. The voices in my head, maybe.
My best friend. My father of all people. But after three weeks of living with my new…boyfriends?... I can say, with confidence, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
Not because they aren’t hot, or kind, or sexy…but because they’re pigs. Pigs I tell you!
It’s 3 A.M., and I ducked down to the kitchen to get a late-night snack.
Before I got to the kitchen, I realized I had to pee. So, I slipped into one of the bathrooms on the main level. There’s a nightlight on, but still I stupidly sat without looking first. I imagined—as always when I use the toilet—that I’m going to sit down about knee level and do my business.
So, imagine my utter dismay, when my ass hit the cold porcelain, and I slid into the toilet bowl; my ass grazing the blue toilet water. It’s cold, and I cringed.
And, even though it was mother-fuckin’ 3 A.M., I didn’t care. I’m going to yell!
“Okay, which one of you fuckers left the goddamned toilet seat up down here!? I swear to god, when I figure out who you are, I’m going to cut the crotches out of all your pants, you assholes!” I threatened, screaming at the top of my lungs so hard, feeling my cheeks tense with heat. Both face cheeks and ass cheeks alike. To be fair, they aren’t really assholes, but my asshole was swimming in toilet water and I’m humiliated. So, for right now? Everyone is an asshole.
I heard the scrambling of awkward male feet as they cower in their rooms, safe and snug in their beds from my ire. “You bastards, I swear…” I muttered under my breath, as I unceremoniously propped my hands on either side of the bowl, and awkwardly lifted myself up. My buttcheeks dripped toilet water from them, and I reached for the toilet paper in the holder so I could dry off my poor, pride-stung butt.
The cardboard roll spun in the holder, but I didn’t touch cushiony softness.
Oh no, I touched…an empty toilet paper roll.
And then, I saw red in my eyes. There was only one explanation to the culprit of this toilet travesty.
“TRYSTAN!” I screamed bloody murder at the top of my lungs. The former eagle-shifter had a slobby streak to him, and maybe it’s because of his birdbrain, or his laziness, but I’ve caught him twice now not replacing the roll when he’s finished.
I can’t be sure, but I’m almost positive I heard a muffled, “Och, shite!” from the game room down the hallway, as a door slammed shut. I heard him dashing away, up the stairs, assumedly to his room.
And can we just discuss just how often men go through entire rolls of toilet paper? I’ll replace the damn thing in the morning, and by nighttime, it’s totally gone. What the hell do they do in there!? Keep in mind, they each have their own bathrooms too!
On second thought… I didn’t want to know.
I cringed now for two reasons: one, the image I’m trying to shove out of my mind of one of the guys doing yucky things in the bathroom, and two, trying to reach my short ass arms about three feet away to the vanity under the sink for the toilet paper. I prayed to the gods—any of them that would listen—that Xander and his O.C.D. cleaning habits haven’t disappointed me, and properly stockpiled it with plenty of toilet paper.
I hovered in the bathroom over the bowl, ass swinging in the air, pants at my ankles, squatting at my knees, and tried to reach the handle of the cabinet. I managed to pull it open successfully, and I blindly reached in. “Success! Thank you, Xander!” I yanked out a couple of rolls and ripped off a wad to dab my ass off, sighing with happiness that I was dry.
I haven’t even done my business yet, either.
I plopped the wooden-toilet seat down with a bang, hoping that whoever was around got the hint. They’ve probably all scattered like scared cats now, because they know the first guy I see is going to get my wrath. Even Xander, for his obsession with putting blue bleach tablets in each tank. I couldn’t be totally for sure that my butt wasn’t blue now from it. I would go easier on him, though, because he had enough sense to make sure the bathroom was properly stocked at
And yes, this was just part of the fun of living with four guys. It’s not all orgies, spankings, and afternoon delights. No, it’s actually much different than that. I now pitied the mothers out there, who have husbands and all sons—I couldn’t imagine. At least my boys were fine as hell, and it gave me something to look at.
Right now, I wondered why I put myself through it all. But aside from the occasional “piggery”, the guys are actually quite wonderful. Over the past month, we’ve grown close, and I’ve implanted myself into their home, and their lives—with their insistence, of course.
It didn’t seem that long ago that my weird “invisible” magic was just that— weird. I just thought I was crazy.
I, Avalon “Ava” Dawson, had lived a boring, humble life in a Minneapolis suburb in a duplex with my best friend, Summer Santiago, and my mother. And my mother wasn’t this evil, nasty witch.
I meant that literally—she is an evil witch. My eccentric, loopy mother turned out to be Morgaine Le Fey—yes, that Morgaine from all the legends—in glamour, posing as my mother. Okay, she actually is my mother. And Sir Lancelot? Actually my father. Ain’t that a kick in the pants?
And the guys—the four guys I now lived with—ended up saving me from a dangerous ritual my mother kidnapped me for, where I was imbued with the magic of the mystical isle of Avalon. I had no idea what’s going on inside me, and still don’t really, except the fact that it seems to be…active. I was able to heal the guys from their injuries before, but lately? It had some surprising
effects. Like, I’m charged and ready to go all the time (I’m horny, okay?), but it came with a bummer of a side effect. When I become aroused—which around these dudes was all the time—it just felt… wrong somehow. I needed to learn how to control it, and hopefully the guys could help. With their varied backgrounds, they all had a bit of knowledge and supernatural life experience at their fingertips. Oh, and they’re immortal incubus demons, cursed at various times by Morgaine over the years. She’s been busy for a long, long time.
Mathias was a former Roman gladiator, with superhuman strength and speed. Trystan was an eagle shifter from Scotland from the time of the Highlanders and clans. Sebastian—Bash—was from colonial Virginia; he is a borderline genius, and an alchemist witch who was burned at the stake for trying to save his village from illness. Lastly, Xander was the youngest at two-hundredsomething years old, and an immigrant from China during the California Gold Rush, where his father sold him into slavery. He also had the amazing ability to channel the weather into magic he wielded at his fingertips.
And wouldn’t you know it? Morgaine, with her evil magic, had cursed hundreds of men for hundreds of years, like my incubi, to steal life energies from women. The sexual energy the incubi extracted from the women when they were together, was transferred somehow into Morgaine, to help her remain immortal, until she could unleash the Avalon magic into me, and use me to remain that way. Somehow. She didn’t count on four of her lost incubi to come into my life; she’d lost track of them over the years because they denied their incubus instincts and refused to “attack” women for their life energies, only taking enough from them by not allowing themselves to orgasm during their couplings. Because her orgasm triggered the life force, the incubus’ orgasm is when they’d take her life force. I didn’t like thinking about it, but it was a reality they lived with for many years. As a result, their innate supernatural abilities are partially
weakened, and they cannot have a relationship with anyone except a special kind of supernatural being. The incubus magic renders the woman obsessed and irrational afterwards, but more than one coupling between the woman and incubus, no matter if he takes her life energy or not, will always result in death. The only kind of supe impervious to their magic is a cambion; a child of a human and an incubus.
It’s not in the history books, but Lancelot—now known as Lachlan Steele— was the first person cursed as an incubus by my mother for not reciprocating her “affections”. And later, she glamoured herself into someone different, found Lancelot again many, many years later and charmed him into sleeping with her to conceive me. So, that makes me a cambion. Convenient, huh? My supernatural heritage, and strange “invisible” abilities I got from my father also made me a prime candidate to be a vessel for the magic from Avalon. How it’s possible an entire island of magic could fit into a clay vessel that held it for so many years, or me, I had no idea. But my mother was betting on the stealth magic to help hide the magic from the outside world; at least that was the guys’ theory.
Aside from all that, I was the first cambion any of the guys’ had encountered in hundreds of years. Because of that, we decided for now to, um, share me. It sounded crazy, but they knew there was little chance of ever encountering another cambion ever again; we were apparently extremely, extremely rare. And that brought me to here.
As I spaced out, still sitting on the commode trying to recover from the traumatic potty situation, my full bladder reminded me that I still hadn’t done what I came in for. I shook myself out of my daze, and finally did my bathroom business. I set the toilet paper on the holder knowing fully well it would annoy someone, and placed the other roll on the back of the commode. You know, for next time. I’ll probably be using it tomorrow.
I padded down the hallway to the kitchen. There’s always a night light on in every room, and I’m thankful for that because I’m still not one-hundred percent confident about the layout of the house. It’s so much bigger than where I lived most of my life, and I still got turned around, especially at night.
I entered the kitchen and go straight for the fridge. Opening the Frenchstyle steel doors, I scanned the contents. I’m not sure what I wanted, but I know I wanted something really bad for me because after the potty calamity, I was crabby as hell. Mathias refused to keep a lot of junk food in the house—which I found a bit ridiculous. With their incubus-bodies, they didn’t gain weight. It won’t clog their arteries or make them ill because they’re friggin’ immortal. Me, however —there’s still a chance, even with my half-witch, half incubus, all cambion heritage I could gain about five-hundred pounds. I was willing to take that risk, though, right now.
The Curse of Avalon Book 1
Until I meet these gorgeous guys during a girls’ night out, and there’s something strangely alluring about them. An ancient curse brings us together, while a group of supernatural “Collectors” is threatening to tear us apart. They’re targeting people with special abilities like mine, and all four men have taken it upon themselves to protect me. But with their complicated pasts, I can’t help but feel protective of them, too. I’m trying not to get in over my head, with these men, and the magic.
But I have to admit, It’s nice to be seen after years of being invisible.
*Author's Note: this book is 'reverse harem;' meaning, one woman, multiple love interests. This series is meant for readers 18+ only
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I lifted a brow. “And what do you think I am?”
He sighed thoughtfully, as if debating something. Then he asked me something very surprising. “What do you know about your father? Are you close to him?”
I blinked, taken aback. Wanting to say something snarky, but I couldn’t. The subject had always been raw with me, despite how I respected my mother’s wishes to not ask more about him. “I don’t have one. I’ve never met him.”
He nodded slowly. “Uh-huh. What does your mother know about him?”
I shrugged, looking away so he couldn’t see the pain in my eyes. “Not much. Apparently, I’m the product of a one-night stand.”
Mathias was quiet. “And, she never married after that?”
Mathias raised an eyebrow. “See where I’m going with this?”
I glared. “No, I don’t think I do.”
Mathias shook his head with a grin. “Products of a joining between a human and an incubus are extremely rare, though the chance increases if the human isn’t fully human. Even still, it’s incredibly rare. Very rare.”
I stayed thoughtfully silent.
She could become obsessed with one of us, and be unable to find her own love.
Mathias’ words rang over and over again in my mind as he stood there, flicking the little card in between his fingers; as if waiting for me to have a revelation.
“So…” I finally said after a few moment of stun. “What would that make me?”
“If you are what I think you are, you could be pretty powerful indeed and very valuable to many out there who could use you for something… insidious,” he said, his tone hushed.
“What am I?”
“I think you’re a cambion. The child of a human and an incubus. Usually that joining triggers something in the human genetics, and can give you some interesting abilities. But if you don’t know how to use them, they can come out in odd ways,” he explained calmly.
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I see…” I trailed off.
Mathias stood before me, and knelt to my eye level. He reached for my hand, gently. I tried to pull away, but I found I didn’t really want to. I wanted to reject everything this man—this mystery was saying. But his earnest, warm brown eyes made it very difficult.
He held my hand between his as his eyes searched mine. I swear I thought I saw his turn colors; from a light brown hazel to a dark brown, but I had to be seeing things. Right?
“Ava, if you are what I think you are, you could be in danger.” He slipped the card into my hand, and closed my fingers around it. “But you have to decide you want help; I’m not going to force you. I’ll keep checking on you every now and then—myself or Trystan, Sebastian or Xander will. Because if anyone finds out about what you are... it could be very dangerous.”
I didn’t speak; I just clutched the card in my hands. He patted my fingers and stood, stepping towards the door. “Our contact information is on that card, if you decide you want help. We’ll be there for you, any time. Day or night.”
He took one more glance at me before he left, offering a smile before he disappeared .
When not writing she's probably geeking out watching Star Trek, playing World of Warcraft, reading yet another fantasy book or staying up way too late. She'd love it if you dropped her a line at Facebook or Twitter but be prepared...she's a nictofiliac so be patient for a response while her eyes adjust to the light of day and beware of sarcasm. It helps to throw her chocolate or glitter first before engaging. Wine is also acceptable...but not to throw. Hand it over gently.
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