Grave Sight | A Reverse Harem Romance

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕆𝕟𝕖 ℍ𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖

Merlin stopped me before I got out of his car, his hand wrapping around my arm. When I turned to look at him, he wasn't looking at me. Instead, he stared at the building the mages were gathering in, a nervous tick to his jaw.

I waited for him to say something, but his eyes never left the building. It was obvious something was on his mind, and the fact that he wasn't getting out of the car meant something else was going on that I didn't know of.

I sat back in the seat and he immediately pulled his hand away. It was quiet in the car. So quiet I could hear the sound of his watch ticking away the seconds we spent in silence.

"I know you're not liked within your group of necromancers." He finally tore his eyes away from the building to look at me. "But I'm the black sheep. Not just in my family, but between the mages as well. Even the death mages don't like me."

I blinked. I mean, he was a bit odd, but every single person not liking him didn't sound right.

He must have seen my confusion.

"My family cast me out when I was thirteen when I came into my powers." He ran a hand over his face. "A death mage meant bad things for the family, so they got rid of me. They're influential in the mage and witch communities, so much so that their casting me out meant everyone else did too so they didn't piss my parents off. This is the only time I get to see my parents and siblings."

I felt my shoulders slump in a pity I didn't think I'd feel for him. That was depressing.

"You're amazing," he said, resting back in his seat and looking out into the darkness ahead of us. "The death mages know of you because of your powers. The other mages and witches know of you because of the talk between the death mages. I just...I was hoping..."

It finally clicked. He wasn't really a fanboy, per say. And he'd been right. Bringing me would have been a hell of a lot more beneficial than bringing my heart. To be honest, bringing my heart would have probably freaked people out more than fascinated them. Though I found it odd that people had even heard of me, no matter how rare necromancers were, bringing the necromancer in question was the better option.

He closed his eyes.

He just wanted to be accepted. Oddly enough, I knew how that felt. Being a mix-breed came with a lot of backlash. Not just from people who didn't like that I was a vampire, or a necromancer, or both. But from my own mind as well.

I smiled. "Then let's go."

His eyes shot open and he looked at me. "I just admitted to using you."

"I used you too," I said. "And I don't want to know what you did, or what you killed, to find my heart."

He nodded, as if finally realizing that was true, then got out of the car. When I stood from the car, he was already at my side waiting. His nerves were evident until we got to the door and he gave the person out front his name.

When those doors opened, he was a completely different person. Almost a shut-down version of who he had been outside. I didn't want to admit it, but it was almost like every guard he could erect had been put up around him so that whatever was said or done wouldn't hurt him.

I didn't know him well. I wasn't planning on getting to know him, either. But that was the look of someone who had been abused - both mentally and physically. And that wasn't okay with me.

A group of men turned and looked at Merlin, then to me.

"A date?" One laughed loudly. Obnoxiously. "How much did he pay?"

I felt Merlin's muscle beneath my hand tense, and I frowned. Almost immediately, I replaced it with a smile and held out my hand to the one who spoke.

"My name is Nova." I grabbed his hand and squeezed to the point I felt his bones rub together. "Merlin didn't pay for me, and I'm offended you'd ever assume he would stoop that low."

The man's brown eyes widened. "Nova?"

"Nova Bara." I let his hand go, and didn't miss when he clenched his hand into a fist to rid himself of the discomfort I'd caused. "I'm a necromancer."

He shook his head, looking back at his group, then back at me. "I know who you are."

Apparently Merlin had been right. That was more than a bit creepy. Why did a bunch of mages know who I was?

I tilted my head and went back to Merlin, grabbing his arm and pulling him farther into the building. We hadn't even gotten to the room the party was supposed to be in, and we'd already been accosted by people who suddenly looked like they wanted nothing more than to sit and have a long excruciating talk.

Perfect. Not something I wanted.

"How do they know who I am," I asked. "I've laid low for my entire life."

"Death mages keep a registry of necromancers in their country just in case one may be needed." His eyes moved over the group and stopped on an older couple with two women around Merlin's age. It didn't take a genius to see they were Merlin's family.

His mom had her hair pulled up into a tight bun, every single hair slicked into place with gel. A dark gray dress hugged her too-thin body. Her eyes were on her husband, who stood beside her, talking to one of the other women. He shook his head, his black hair too dark against his pale complexion. While his wife was too thin, his tux was almost too small for his frame.

One of the women - the darker blonde haired one - looked over, registering Merlin, then me. Her eyes remained on me.

Her attention made her sister turn, looking away from her father to look at us, which of course ultimately made Merlin's mother and father's eyes stray to us.

Merlin tensed as they began walking over.

Freaking great.