I don’t know why young girls want to be princesses. It’s really quite boring. And uncomfortable. At least the dresses they make me wear are. No amount of magic can persuade my waist to fit into the corset one of the maids is trying to force on me. My body isn’t made for this kind of feminine clothing. I want something loose, comfy, not these torturous, squeezing, unflattering dresses. Unfortunately, I’m the only one of that opinion. My mother with her Goddess genes wears whatever she wants in the most effortless way, one day sporting a tiny waist and the next curves in all the right places. It’s as if she can change her appearance at will.

I can’t. I’m stuck with my bony hips and my boobs that aren’t small enough for the corset but small enough to look strange in some of the deep neckline dresses. I’m tempted to ask my mother for trousers and hoodies. All I’ve achieved so far is getting to choose the colours in my wardrobe. Baby steps, even though I’m the Princess.

When I walk around the Palace, people keep following me, waiting for instructions. Or to hear the latest gossip. Or to tell me the latest gossip. Basically, they want attention and think that I can give it to them. I’m becoming an expert at noncommittal nods, polite smiles and gentle handwaving. They’ve even brought children to me to be blessed. I had no clue what to do when that baby was shoved into my arms. I have no idea about kids, and even less about how to bless someone. Surely my mother is the Goddess with the powers of creation, not me? I’m just her offspring, half Guardian, half Goddess. All I have is some magic, but nothing like the powers my mother has.

Then there are the people looking for my opinion. I’m not a member of my mother’s Council, and I prefer it that way. It will take me some time to get used to the politics of this place, unfamiliar as they are. But there are some of her courtiers who seem to think that they better start early. They flatter me, they send me presents, they pretend they’re more important than they actually are. Most of the time, I see through them. Sometimes, I need to ask my Guardians or Tamara to find out what those people want from me. And if even my friends don’t know, then they’re probably not worth my time. Otherwise I’d spend all my days entertaining nobles and listening to gossip. As much fun as the latter can be, I have better things to do. Like spending time with my Guardians.

Storm is taking me out tonight. It’s the first time we’ll be alone since we arrived in the Realm. I think it’s a date - I hope it is. But when I think back to the heat in his eyes in the unicorn cave, I’d be surprised if this was just a chat amongst friends.

“You need to draw in your belly and hold your breath while I do this, your Highness,” the chambermaid sighs as I repel the corset once again. It’s not compatible with my body.

“I think Storm will have to take me without a corset,” I proclaim to her shocked gasp. “He’s seen me without one before. It’s not like lots of people wear them on Earth.”

“But Mistress, it’s the fashion here...”

“Am I the Princess?” I ask and she goes very quiet. I hate to be like that, but right now, it’s necessary.

“Yes, I’m sorry, your Highness. Forgive me.”

“It’s forgiven. Now run along, I’m going to choose something else to wear. I don’t need your help for that.”

She hurries away, shooting me some very disappointed glances. She was probably hoping to be praised by the Heiress of the Winter Throne, maybe even chosen as my personal maid. Most of the girls doing this job are the same. But I don’t want a maid, I don’t want any of the servants. I’m used to dealing with my wardrobe on my own. And I hate corsets. What’s so hard to understand about that?

I sigh as I look into my closet. There’s not much usable stuff in there. I’ve decided not to wear a dress. I want to look like when Storm first got to know me: human. Or maybe not human, but normal. Not a princess. Just me, Wyn, the woman from Edinburgh who has trouble with her magic and is in love with four men instead of one. Why can’t the others here just accept that? I’m not one of them, not like my mother. I didn’t grow up here, so I shouldn’t be expected to fit in like this.

There’s only one way to get out of this. Tamara.

I ring the bell next to the marble doorframe. It’s not connected to anything, but somehow Tamara will be notified. Magic. As always.

A moment later, she knocks on the door, but before I can call for her to enter, she sweeps into the room, a wide smile on her face.

“How can I help, my lady?”

“Stop the ladying. I need jeans. And a normal shirt. And shoes without heels. Human clothes with no frills and unnecessary fabric. I need a break from all those dresses.”

She gives me a knowing smile. “As you wish. Your mother won’t be pleased though. Neither will the maids. They’ve planned out your wardrobe for the next few months and have drawn lots for who gets to dress you.”

I shudder. “Torture,” I murmur. “I didn’t think torture would await me here. But somehow these girls manage to slowly kill me with every dress.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Tamara laughs. “And you can’t tell me you haven’t seen the looks your men give you when you wear one of those dresses. Especially the dark blue see-through one.”

Oh yes, I remember that. The only place where the fabric wasn’t semi-translucent was a patch above my boobs and one around my waist. No wonder my guys liked it. Although they would have liked it even more if I’d taken it off - but of course they had to work, so I was left alone in my pretty dress.

Princessing sucks sometimes.

* * *

I find Storm in one of the courtyards. He’s not wearing a shirt and his wings are exposed, glittering in the afternoon sun. They’re as wide as he is tall and just as strong. Here in the Realms, it’s obvious how different the Guardians are from humans. They’re more like angels. Even now as he moves from one battle stance to another, he’s got something angelic about him.

With every step, his muscles ripple. My fingers twitch as I imagine running my hands over his back, his chest...

“Stop staring!” he suddenly calls without looking at me. Does he have eyes in the back of his head?

Embarrassed, I step out of the shadows and approach my Guardian. The man who had to learn to smile, but who’s a lot more relaxed now that we no longer face demons on a daily basis. He even jokes from time to time, still surprising me with every pun. He’s got a good sense of humour, even if he doesn’t often show it. He probably thinks he has to keep up his leader persona. And to be honest, I quite like his dominant side.

“If you don’t want me to stare, you should put on a shirt,” I tell him and he turns around, showing me his glistening upper body. He must have been working out for a while.

“Now why would I do that?” he asks and slowly stalks towards me. “I like that look in your eyes.”

“A moment ago you told me not to stare.”

“Oh. That was a mistake. Stare as much as you like.”

He presents his beautiful sapphire wings and shakes them before folding them up behind his back. I know that if I was to walk around him, they’d disappeared. It still boggles my mind how our wings are there and not at the same time. Where do they go when we don’t use them? Especially his, they don’t look as translucent and light as mine.

Storm waves his hands and a breeze starts to blow around him, drying his skin within seconds. A black shirt that was lying on the ground floats up and he puts it on, covering the splendid view.

“No more staring?” I ask in disappointment.

“Later,” he promises with a wink. “First, let’s have our date.”

“Are we going to fly somewhere?”

“In a way...” He smirks and butterflies tremble in my belly. He’s going to get me all weak and needy with that look in his eyes. The one that promises fire and passion.

He suddenly hugs me and I melt into his embrace.

“Hold on tight!” he whispers before a roaring wind surrounds us. Storm’s body temperature is warming me despite the two layers of fabric between us. Maybe we can get rid of them later.

The wind gets stronger until we’re lifted off the ground. My hair is blown all around my head and I press my face to Storm’s chest so none of the strands get into my eyes. Despite the noise of the storm, it actually feels quite cosy, being snuggled against my Guardian. He makes me feel safe even in moments where I feel safe already. Don’t ask me how that works, but I like it.

We’re getting faster as we fly upwards. I shiver in the cold wind but a moment later the air around me gets warm. Storm must have noticed. How considerate.

We land gently on a smooth surface. I open my eyes, only now noticing that I had them closed for the entire flight. Not that I was scared, but it was cosier that way. I trusted him not to drop me.

I untangle myself from Storm’s embrace and look around. We’re on a tower at the edge of the Palace, but this one is different from all the rest. It’s made from a glistening white material, marble maybe? It’s got thin veins of silver running through the stone, making it shimmer even more in the pale sunlight this Realm is known for.

There doesn’t seem to be an exit from this tower. No stairs, not even a trapdoor. Just a smooth, large platform surrounded by marble railings. No wonder we had to fly up here. But who builds a tower you can’t actually exit from below? That’s just weird.

The space we’re standing on is about half the size of the Palace’s Great Hall, which means it’s massive. In the centre, a table and two chairs are waiting for us. Is Storm really doing a proper date with me? With food and a view and romance?

Wow. I need to pinch myself. This is so unlike him. Did he get one of the other Guardians to help him plan this? Or maybe Tamara? I can imagine her giving him pointers at how to create a proper date. Looks like he listened.

I walk towards the table and Storm follows me. It’s only now that I notice the white rose petals on the ground. Really? It’s almost getting a bit over the top now. I’ve never been on a date like this. Guys usually took me to a cafe or bar for a drink, if they were interested. Getting some salty pretzels was the epitome of a good date on Earth. But this is... special.

Beautiful.

Amazing.

On the table is a bottle and two champagne flutes, together with a bowl of strawberries.

I turn and look at Storm in wonder.

“Strawberries?”

He smiles. “It’s hard not to notice how much you love them.”

He steps behind one of the iron wrought chairs and pulls it back a little, gesturing me to sit down. Wow, Storm the gentleman. It’s as if he’s done it thousands of times. That makes me think. Maybe he has? How many dates has he been on? How many girls have there been?

Stop it, Wyn. Don’t ruin this with those kind of thoughts. He’s lived for a long time, of course there have been others. Just because I’m only twenty-two doesn’t mean my Guardians are.

“Would you like some wine?” he asks and fills my glass when I nod. He sits down opposite me and takes his own glass in one hand.

“To a lovely evening,” he says and we clink glasses. The wine is slightly sweet but not enough to give me a headache tomorrow. Yes, even Demigoddesses get hangovers. 

Then we sit in silence. Am I supposed to say something? What do we talk about? The Summer King threat? The demons we slew? My choice of dress?

To hide my moment of insecurity, I take a strawberry. It’s juicy and sweet and perfect.

“Did you know your eyes light up when you eat them?” Storm asks with a grin.

I swallow before answering - yes, the whole Princess etiquette training has paid off. “Do they? Does that mean I get to eat more of them?”

He shrugs. “There’s a whole bowl just for you. I’m not that big a fan.”

I stare at him in shock. “You don’t like strawberries?!”

“It’s not that I dislike them. I just don’t care much about them. There are better fruit. Like blueberries, freshly picked after a bout of snow. Or apples drenched in honey. Or... sorry, we’re not really here to talk about food.”

“Then what are we here to talk about?” I blurt before I can stop myself.

He looks at me strangely. “Us? And the others, I guess. But I’m not sure how much talking I was planning to do.”

Gods save my hormones. Is he really suggesting what I think he is?

“Shall we have some food first?” he asks and destroys my thoughts of my Guardian’s lips on mine. But then my stomach growls softly and I decide I need some proper food. Then I can feast on Storm.

“That would be lovely,” I say, popping another strawberry into my mouth. Who knows if he’ll leave them there when he adds more items to the table, so I better plan ahead. I take another few and put them on my napkin.

I look up and see Storm grinning at me.

“I wasn’t going to take them away from you.”

I huff. “Well, you never know. You may have held them hostage in return for favours.”

“Does that mean you’re not going to give those... favours willingly later on?”

I smirk. “That depends on what exactly you want.”

He winks and my insides melt a little at his suggestive look. “You’ll find out soon. But first, food.”

He closes his eyes for a moment and a second later, several bowls appear on the table. It’s not built for this much and some of the plates are precariously close to the edge. I hope my clumsiness won’t turn this into a massive accident full of shards and spilt food. But as long as I stay on my chair, it should be fine.

Storm opens one of the bowls and a cloud of steam escapes, revealing six perfectly formed dumplings covered in powdery sugar. From past experience and a long chat with the cook, I know that they’re filled with poppy seed and plum jam. Best combination ever. Now we just need... Yes! My Guardian hands me a carafe filled with vanilla custard. Perfect.

At this point I should say that yes, I love sugary food. And I can eat it at any time of day. If it was up to me, savoury food wouldn’t have to exist. At all. Give me strawberries and dumplings any day.

Storm doesn’t seem to agree. He’s filled his plate with a steak, mashed potatoes and a giant puddle of gravy. No vegetables though.

“You should be eating some vitamins,” I tell him sternly while nibbling on a strawberry. “See, I’m getting mine. You want to stay a healthy and strong Guardian.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’ll get my exercise soon.”

I look at him wide-eyed. “What’s happened to you? Did you have a run in with an incubus?” I think for a moment, trying to remember whether I read about incubi in my mother’s factual library or in a novel back home on Earth. “Do they exist?”

Storm laughs even more now. “No, they don’t. And I’m just a bit more relaxed than usual. And I got good news that I was waiting to tell you. I had planned to first have dinner, but why not now... Or maybe later.”

He stops and I look at him sternly. “Tell me. Now.”

“Your mother has given me a week off. I’ll be able to spend a lot more time with you.”

A smile makes its way from my heart to my lips. More time. With Storm. No more stolen kisses while we meet in a corridor. Actual time where we can talk and have fun and do other things.

“Just you or the others as well?” I ask and my smile dims as I see his expression dim. Stupid Wyn, don’t remind him that there are others. Let’s just have a proper date, just the two of us. But I can’t just shove my other three Guardians from my mind and my heart. They’re all entwined, and not just because of the bond we formed.

I never thought I could love several people equally. My mother told me that it was possible, although she was talking about loving your children and partner just as much. Just in different ways. And it’s the same with my men, I love them all in their own, special way.

“All of us,” Storm replies gruffly. “But we’ve agreed we’ll each get to spend a day with you. That still leaves three days for all five of us to be together.”

“Sounds good.” I make an extra effort to brighten my smile so he sees how much I value my time with him. I want him to feel special. He’s my Storm, after all. My beautiful, harsh, dark Storm. I remember how I first met him and chuckle.

“What’s the matter?” he asks and I grin.

“Just remembering what I thought when I first saw you.”

He frowns. “Wow, what a good-looking Guardian?”

“No, more like ‘who is that brooding man in a cloak’. I’m glad you’re no longer wearing that thing, it made you look like a Nazgul.”

“A what?”

“A ringwraith? Black rider? Have you never read Lord of the Rings?”

He looks at me in confusion. “Is that a human book?”

I nod.

“Then of course I haven’t. And by the way, cloaks are very fashionable.”

I smirk. “I’ve not seen anyone here wear one like yours. The guards’ cloaks are a lot less... gloomy.”

“I prefer mysterious. Dark and mysterious and alluring.” He draws a hand through his hair and tries to give me a seductive wink. He fails. I laugh and he growls.

“Don’t laugh at my mysteriousness.”

“I wouldn’t dare to.”

Finally, he no longer manages to stay serious and a smile brightens his face. He’s so pretty when he smiles, but of course I won’t tell him that. His ego is big enough as it is.

To distract myself from the draw I feel towards him, I eat another strawberry. Only when I take a second do I notice that he’s still watching me.

“Something the matter?”

“I just noticed that I’m... happy.”

I shrug. “And how is that special?”

He clears his throat. “I’ve not felt this way in a long time. Before I was sent to get you, my life was nothing but work. Maybe drinking at night with my friends, but I never had the time to feel like this. Like the sun has broken through a thick layer of clouds and is now warming me with its rays.”

“Wow, aren’t you a poet,” I tease him, but inside, I’m touched. I’m pretty sure Storm doesn’t usually share his feelings like that. “So if I’m the sun, does that mean I get to warm you?”

Oops, that last sentence wasn’t supposed to come out that way. I blame the hormones that are sizzling through my lower body whenever I look at him. Especially when his gaze is fixed on me like now.

Instead of a response, the table between us lifts into the air - I just about manage to snatch one final strawberry - and floats to one side, leaving nothing between me and my Guardian. A moment later, my chair begins to shake and I’m thrown towards Storm who catches me out of the air.

“That’s cheating,” I whisper as he sits me on his lap until I face him.

“What am I cheating at?” he asks, his voice a tiny bit hoarse. Oh Gods is he hot. Not warm hot, sexy hot.

“Being not attractive.”

“I didn’t know I was trying to be that.” He chuckles slightly and his chest vibrates against mine. “Now what are we going to do now?”

I smile evilly. “We could talk about politics.”

“I’m sure we could. How about we do something a little more fun?”

He runs his hands over my back and I’m glad I’m wearing a normal shirt and not one of those frilly dresses with too many layers of fabric. I want to feel his touch, his warmth. I wrap my legs around his hips and put my hands on his shoulders, pulling myself even closer to him. I lower my lips to his and am amazed at how soft they feel. Just like every time. I can’t connect this softness with his otherwise hard, unyielding body. And mind. He’s one of the strongest people I know. But there are parts of him that are gentle and soft, and I’m not talking about his body. Although his lips... I kiss him, first slowly, savouring every second, then more urgently until I’m gasping for air. He returns the kiss, demanding access to my mouth, his tongue dancing around mine, fighting a romantic duel.

His hands slip under my shirt and pull it up. He’s impatient, just like me. There won’t be a long foreplay today. Suits me. It’s been too long.

I moan as he pulls back so he can lift the shirt over my arms and head. Just those few seconds without his lips on mine are torturous. I need him, more of him. Everything of him, every atom needs to be with me. In me.

Then his mouth is back on mine, his lips sucking on mine, while he fumbles with the catch of my bra. I’m debating whether to help him but I’m busy kissing. My brain can’t focus on anything else just now. All there is are my swollen lips against his. And luckily, he manages by himself, and with a click the bra opens.

I grate my hips against his pelvis and his hardness. He’s ready, and through the wetness of my panties I can feel how ready I am myself. That must have been one of the quickest dates ever. At least I got to eat a few strawberries. And now I’m eating Storm.

He slides my bra down my arms, exposing my breasts into the cool evening air. My nipples are hard, waiting for his touch. He takes one between two fingers and gently rolls it between them. Little lightning bolts run straight from my breasts down to the ache between my legs. I’m hungry, so hungry.

I suck on his bottom lip, then bite a little. He groans as my teeth scrape against his lip, but he doesn’t protest. On the contrary, he stops moving his head to give me more access. I nibble a bit more, not daring to draw blood.

Storm cups my arse and lifts me up to change my position slightly. I’m now sitting even closer to him, even more on his hardness. But with me sitting on his lap, I can’t even reach his jeans to release him. So all I can do is grind my hips, rubbing myself against him. This is not enough. Did I think that before? Am I really so insatiable?

I guess I am.

He plays with my nipples again, both, this time. I moan and by accident, I bite down a little too hard on his lip. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. Oops.

I stop, thinking that Storm is g