"Alright, my profile on Tind3r is up." She said with a wry smile. "Though I doubt I'll get any hits if they read my profile."
Catherine Jenkins was an extremely wealthy CEO of her corporation, Cathy's Corner, a furniture creation company. She was super busy. Catherine barely had time to meet with her clients individually, much less find time to date. She hoped Tind3r would help her solve that problem, though she doubted it.
Most people used Tind3r for sex, not relationships, but it was her last hope. Catherine tried all the other services with no luck, or creepers. If she ever wanted to get married before forty, she needed to find options. Of course, she did not think she was all that attractive herself, but surely someone would find her so.
She had short black hair with brown eyes, an oval-shaped face, and slim figure. Few knew she had a belly ring or a tattoo on her upper thigh of a rose. Most saw her as strict, cold, even, so having tattoos or piercings did not fit her image within the company.
Catherine worked many years to reach a point in her life she would be happy with before finding a husband, only now, she was almost too late. In finding her professional happiness, she was lacking in the love department. She looked around her sleek, modern office with a proud yet lonely smile. Even having all the wealth in the world did not equate happiness.
Her arms crossed in front of her small chest, her thoughts going back to the last time she even had relations with someone besides the toy in her dresser. Years ago. And he did not like her independence or drive to work. Especially when he wanted to propose, but could not work it around her busy schedule as a CEO.
His demands for her to quit were beyond demeaning, so the relationship ended horribly. Three years ago, she remembered, lifting a thoughtful finger to her chin, her eyes sliding closed. Since then, she focused fully on her career. Only now, the empty house did not feel as nice as it once did.
Would she ever find her Mister Right? She wondered with a sighed as she stared at her phone before locking the screen. As it blinked off in front of her, the world shifted and she hit the floor of her office, hard; the force knocking her unconscious.
Sound was the first thing to return to her, as birds chirped in the distance. This confused her, but when she tried to open her eyes, the glaring sun burned them. The heavy scent of woods filled her senses, and she lifted her hand to her aching head.
"What was in the coffee Rochelle brought me?" She wondered aloud, wincing as her voice seemed to echo in her head. "Ugh…"
"That was quite a spill, My Lady. Are you alright?" A deep voice entered her ears, soothing her frayed nerves a little. "Let me help you up."
The warm hands wrapped around her waist and helped her stand back up. She could finally open her eyes to find a large man standing in front of her, much larger than any human man she ever saw. He was shirtless, and she could see tattoos wrapping around his arms, and she was sure there were some on his back, if the lines were any sign.
The stranger had a mean expression on his face, under short brown hair, but there was a tenderness in his hazel eyes Catherine was unfamiliar with in a man his size. He towered over her slight frame, at least six foot eight, and the muscles mixed with his tattoos made her lick her lips unknowingly. His hand remained firmly around her waist, keeping her steady, but they felt hot through her clothes.
Clothes. Instead of her business suit, she looked down to find herself wearing a beautiful princess-like blue dress, one which stretched all the way to her feet, concealing her shoes. She tilted her head to the side in confusion when the man pressed his lips to a point on her neck, making her shiver from head to toe.
The slight action made her let out a sharp gasp of pleasure, and her knees turned to putty beneath her weight. In all her years alive, she had never felt such overwhelming desire for anyone before, and she wrapped her legs around his hips, her dress rising to reveal her pale thighs. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, making her lock her arms around his neck.
"Cathy, you have always driven the three of us mad." He mumbled against her skin, his large hands lowering to grab her bottom and grounding himself against her. "If you're okay, we should get back. The others are waiting for us."
The three of them? Her mind hazily wondered as her eyes slid closed. What did that mean? And why was she okay with the fact this random stranger was touching her butt and kissing her neck? She pulled out of his arms and glared up at him in annoyance. He tilted his head in confusion before leaning closer to look at her head. With a gentle touch, he placed his hand on the top of her head, making Catherine wince in pain.
Her eyes focused on a scar under his left eye, and she reached out to touch it when he flinched, pulling back and averting his eyes. Just who is this man? Who is she? What happened to her office, and would she be able to go home? These thoughts swirled in her head until she felt dizzy, her body sinking to the grassy hill beneath her feet.
"Woah, there. My Lady, tell me. Do you know who I am?" He wondered, his eyes widening when she shook her head no. "I'm your husband, Zion. We just celebrated our one-year anniversary."
He lifted her into his arms, one hand at her back, the other wrapped around her knees, and started walking. When did she get married? She wondered as she stared at the man named Zion. Who were the other two? Where were they going? Who was he? All these questions surfaced, but she was in such a state of shock, she could not open her mouth to ask.
A small camp came into view with two other large men sitting around the fire, as well as some more men in the distance, but close enough she could see them. The two men stood, their forms towering over hers as well, and one approached, almost yanking her from Zion's arms.
"Why is her head bleeding, Zion?!" He yelled, his voice making her wince. "I told you not to take her out into the woods! She could have died. My Lady, are you okay?"
Her hand fell to rest on his chest, where she felt his racing heart. He was out of breath, too, but what struck her were his glowing red eyes. Blood red hair draped down to his shoulders, looking silky to the touch, and she gazed at him in shock as he pulled her closer, his head falling to her shoulder.
The man seemed to gather himself for a second as his hands roamed her waist, legs, and arms, as though checking for injuries. He pulled back to meet her gaze before cupping her cheek, his eyes still glowing that faint red before he calmed. Gunther was the smallest of the three, but still at least six foot four.
"Gunther, you worry too much. Cathy's fine. She's not like the other Queens. She's immortal, remember?" The next said, his eyes landing on her. "Ah. That is a problem, however."
Catherine gasped as soon as she locked eyes with him, surprise coursing through her body. One golden eye, the other a soft purple. She half wondered if it was a trick of the light until Gunther walked closer to him. Unlike the first two, he had long black hair and a slim figure, though she could tell he was still fit.
Gunther's and Silas's clothes could not be any more different, though. Gunther wore an open vest-type shirt with pants that billowed out towards the ankles before closing in at his feet. Silas's clothes were much more concealing, and as dark as his hair, but closer to the design of her own clothing. She gazed up at his face questioningly as he looked down at her, multicolored eyes impassive.
"She lost her memory." Zion replied, making everyone turn to look at her, and the one called Gunther placed her on the ground next to the third man. "So, she doesn't know any of us."
"My Lady, is it true?" Gunther asked with watery eyes, his emotions reading as saddened by the news. "You don't remember the three of us?"
She stared around at the three of them, looking for any features she recognized, but there were none. Zion was the largest of the three, and the most fearsome looking with his tattoos and muscled body, but the other two were not small either. The quiet one only looked at her with indifference, though he had a handsome face, she thought as she stared at him. Gunther gave her a weak smile, but she could tell his heart was not in it.
Clearly, he wore his heart on his sleeve, making her wonder if he was as annoying as he seemed. When she averted her gaze to the sparks of the fire, she went over what she knew. These three knew her, and she was very important to them. Zion was her husband, but what about the other two? Who was she in this world?
"I'm your husband, Silas, and the emotional one is your third husband, Gunther." The indifferent one supplied and her eyes widened again in shock. "What? Why is that so strange? Surely you remember something from our world."
She shook her head, staring at the three of them, unable to understand what they were saying. In whatever world she was in, women could have three husbands? The three of them shared a look; before turning to stare at her expectantly. Soon, she was explaining who she knew herself as, where she came from, her job, and her life.
Most of all, she explained how this was not the world she knew. An uncomfortable silence fell over the small camp before Zion placed a hand on her shoulder, his eyes serious. She hoped if she were to die, it would not be like this, she thought, with fear clogging her throat.
"So, your name is Catherine Jenkins. I guess we're all meeting for the first time again." His voice was soft, heartbreakingly so. "Let us reintroduce ourselves. I'm Zion, the first man you married. We met three years ago at a tribe meeting. Silas." Zion said, motioning to the other man. "I'm not telling her your story. Do it yourself."
"Why? It's nothing special. I'm the second man you wed." Silas started, but shrugged as though he did not care. "Your father arranged our marriage when you were a child. As you will never age, and neither will I, he wanted to make sure you had a partner that lasted."
If the way he glanced away from her was any sign, there was more to that story than he let on. All three men looked depressed, making her wonder just how important she was to them. Were that not shocking enough, she could see his ears came to a point under his long black hair. He was ethereal, an otherworldly beautiful for a man, despite the sharp look in his eyes.
Catherine looked at Gunther, who remained silent. She figured he would be the first to talk about himself, but he seemed to withdraw until Zion slapped him on the back. The younger, smaller man snapped out of his thoughts and bright red eyes rose to meet hers, making her mouth fall open.
"I'm the last man you married. We just wed three days ago…" He sighed, his large shoulders moving with it, his frame sulking forward towards the fire. "But I wonder what the point to it was if you can't remember it."
He was so impossibly sad; it made her heart clench in her chest. Then the thought occurred to her. She understood what they said about themselves, but who was she? The stress caught up with her, causing her body to pivot forward towards the fire, when she felt firm hands wrap around her waist from either side.
The hands positioned her over a mountain of pillows, laying her against it gently before covering her with a blanket. She opened her eyes to see concerned red orbs gazing into her face. When her eyelids finally slid closed, she wondered if all this was a fever dream and she would wake up in her bed tomorrow. Maybe it was the stress from the day, but she soon fell into a dream-filled sleep.