Wild Magic Three: The Shade of the Earth- a M/M fantasy shifter romance

Prologue 1: The Stray and the Witch

ROBERT, 20 YEARS AGO—

I stifled a curse as I glared down the full ball gown that was tied to my sergeants' tent, the ugly red wig perched precariously above the neck of the gown. I had been in Dasan and Nibley's troupe for nearly six years, and this kind of shit was common. I had even joined in at first, though I was never the instigator in the pranks. I found them amusing, though. For how wrong, disgusting, immoral was it for two men to be romantically and sexually tied? To this day it made me blanch.

The day Dasan took an arrow for me and Nibley decimated an entire army for his man, his lover, and for me, was the day I stopped laughing. And started defending the two men who had very quickly become my very best friends. The elder brothers I'd never had.

No matter whom they loved, they were human, my comrades. They were men who deserved my respect and my empathy. It just took a bit for me to learn that lesson. I was ashamed of that, of my initial ignorance, and even of my continuing discomfort with their love, but they never held it against me, and for that they were better men than I would ever be.

Now though, a day didn't go by that I wasn't in trouble with our bigoted, close-minded captain for defending my friends from this kind of fucking bullshit.

I ripped the dress down and turned with a scowl when I heard snickers behind me.

"Ya know they're monogamous, right, Robbie?" Lyker, a spoiled third son of a nobleman called, sneering as I growled at the horrible butchering of my name. I hated any variation of my name— Rob, Robbie, Bob. They all made me flinch. "They ain't gonna let you in their tent or their bed, no matter how much you beg to suck their cocks."

"You know from experience?" I shot back, wanting to laugh aloud as Lyker's face turned an ugly shade of puce.

"That's enough," Captain Scarrot grumbled, rolling his eyes as he glared me down. "It was a joke, Robert. Loosen up and learn to laugh a little."

I opened my mouth to reply that it was most definitely not funny, it never was, but I was interrupted by a contingent of men— maybe 15– led into our camp by a man who made every man in the camp take a second look.

The face of an angel on the body of a warrior, the man was awe inspiring and had every soldier

around me wary. Something about him screamed danger, sending pinpricks of fear down my spine. The man who rode beside him wasn't much better, maybe worse, even, for he didn't have a face that looked as if it was carved by the gods themselves. He was rugged and built solidly, with a scar underneath his left eye, dark brown hair and full, unkempt beard. Piercing black eyes, and leather armor that matched his dark aura. A hood covered his head and obscured most of his face, but what I could see placed him at maybe 30 years of age. Something about him was... off. Wrong.

Evil.

The first man jumped from his horse, leaving the dark man looking around at the soldiers who milled about the camp. We had been stationed in this outpost in the middle of nowhere for weeks, and not even the captain had been exempt from complaining of boredom.

"Captain," the man called, and the captain smiled widely.

"Lord Gale," he answered with a mewling, deep bow. "I'm so glad you've come! To what do I owe this honor?"

"I'm seeking a runaway slave, and my witch says she's come this way."

"Ah," Captain Scarrot mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. Though slavery was legal in the Empire, the Teren prince frowned on it, and it was rumored he would be outlawing the owning and selling of slaves soon. "I haven't seen anyone come through here in at least a week, slave or no."

"She's no longer here, my Lord," the dark man called from the saddle, his head cocked, as if listening for something.

I glared up at the man, hatred coursing through me. Of course he was a witch. Likely a dark witch, if he was working as, or with, a slaver.

"Are you certain, Hark?"

The witch, Hark, looked around, his eyes scanning the camp around him, before turning back to Lord Gale.

"Positive, my Lord."

"The child-slave is with your Sergeants Dasan and Nibley. I will lead the Lord west. Send the child north. She will find safety there."

The witch continued to talk quietly with the man who commanded him, but I heard the words ringing in my mind as if he spoke them just against my ear. Though he spared me not a glance, I knew the words came from him. His aura, his presence, the evil in his eyes changed not at all, but his voice in my mind, while not kind, was somehow... soothing.

Was this a trap? A man like him wouldn't do something like this— help a slave escape— without some ulterior motive. But for some reason, he was, and it made me wary of accepting his help. But what choice did I have? If Nibley and Dasan truly had the child in their tent, what else could I do but hope the dark witch was actually an ally?

I gave what I hoped was an imperceptible nod, and then just as quickly as they came, they were gone, and I was left wondering how many strays Dasan and Nibley would pick up before one of them got them killed.

*****Isn't it adorable that Dasan and Nibley have sort of always been taking in strays, culminating in basically adopting Cain? I just freaking love them haha*****