by Allison West
Reaper Academy
Allison West
Published by Blushing Books
An Imprint of
ABCD Graphics and Design, Inc.
A Virginia Corporation
977 Seminole Trail #233
Charlottesville, VA 22901
©2020
All rights reserved.
No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The trademark Blushing Books is pending in the US Patent and Trademark Office.
Allison West
Reaper Academy
EBook ISBN: 978-1-64563-210-8
v1
Cover Art by ABCD Graphics & Design
This book contains fantasy themes appropriate for mature readers only. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual sexual activity.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Epilogue
Allison West
Blushing Books
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Chapter 1
Ophelia waited until her family was asleep. Her younger sister Mara's bedroom sat across the hall in the eastern tower. Mara was the closest, and the most likely to catch Ophelia sneaking out. Her father's room perched at the opposite end of the castle, in the top of the western tower. He slept through anything. Ophelia ditched the golden gown and left it in a heap on the floor, trading it for something less conspicuous. She needed to blend in where she was going. She couldn't do that with a crown atop her head or the princess outfits she was accustomed to wearing. She didn't want to draw attention to herself.
"Ophelia?" Mara knocked on the bedroom door. She carried a candle to illuminate her way, and turned the handle, walking into her sister's room.
Ophelia cursed under her breath and stowed the gown behind the three-tiered changing screen. She hoped Mara was alone. "Come in."
"You're going out," Mara said. It wasn't a question. Ophelia was dressed in a bland beige and gray cotton dress. "Not much of a disguise with you wearing the crown." The older princess lowered her head, and Mara carefully removed the golden tiara, placing it on the nightstand. "Is he really worth it?" She sat down on the edge of Ophelia's bed. Ophelia pulled at the ribbons holding her up-do, causing her red hair to cascade down her back.
"He's perfect." Ophelia's smile lit up her face just thinking about him. "Eyes like honey. Hair as dark and rich as the blackest night. Larkin will be the death of me."
All of nineteen years old, Mara laughed and rolled her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic. You could have it worse. Be like me; the thought of marrying a prince brings bile to my lips."
Ophelia pushed a brunette strand of Mara's long hair behind her ear. "I will do whatever I can to make it so you will be happy." For Ophelia, it was no secret that Mara's love interest was not a boy, but in fact, a young noble girl of twenty who had been invited to keep the younger princess company. If either of their fathers had discovered the secret they kept, they would have been separated at once, Aurora banished from the kingdom, and Mara likely locked up in her room with a doctor at her bedside trying to fix her head.
"I know, and that's why I love you."
The older princess laughed and shook her head, smiling. "Is that the only reason?"
Mara sighed, contemplative as she stared up at her older sister. "I wish I looked more like you," Mara whispered.
Naturally curling, rich autumn hair, like crimson maple leaves, made Ophelia look just like their mother. Ophelia's pale blue eyes caught all the boys' attention, not that it mattered; she was to wed Prince Astin. "And I wish I looked more like you." Ophelia kissed her sister's cheek. "I'm covered in freckles and I burn from just a minute under the sun. You are the lucky one, Mara."
Mara shrugged and pursed her lips together. "When can I meet him? You've already met Aurora."
Ophelia laughed under her breath. "Only because I caught the two of you kissing in your bedroom." She'd witnessed far more than innocent kissing between Mara and the noble girl.
Ophelia's stomach grumbled hungrily. She'd barely seen her sister since the noble girl had come to visit. They'd been close in age and seemed to be, until recently, inseparable, not that Ophelia minded. She kept any hint of jealousy well-hidden. Mara could use a friend, one who was not her sister, someone whom she could trust and confide in.
Ophelia had expected to find the two young girls sitting around a table sharing a cuppa or divulging secrets on boys.
She hadn't bothered to knock. It wasn't as though her sister had ever offered her much privacy. Besides, the hour was nearing dinner and it was time to remind the girls to wash up before their evening meal.
A loud squeak resulted from behind the door. Was she crazy enough to be moving furniture around in the room? Surely, her maid Sophia would bring in help if Mara wished to redecorate the room. At this late hour, Ophelia could not even fathom a guess as to the strange creak and groan coming from the room.
Turning the handle to the door, her eyes widened as she caught sight of her younger sister crawling down the noble girl's body, her fingers deep inside Aurora's cunny as she kissed a trail from her pale stomach over her mound and down between her legs.
Aurora's pale pink dress nestled around her waist, the lace layers beneath poofed out unceremoniously, not that either girl on the mattress paid the slightest bit of attention. Her fingers slid down into Mara's hair as her head bent back, eyes slammed shut, breathing deeply the moment Mara's lips grazed her folds.
Ophelia had not wished to stare and watch the scene any longer than the brief second it took to open the door and witness what was occurring. There were no locks on the doors, making what they were doing an even greater risk. Had they not thought to move a dresser or even a chair to secure the room?
"I—dinner will be ready in twenty. I suggest you both come downstairs and look presentable for your father, the king." Ophelia hadn't known what to say or even how to react. Mara had always grumbled at the thought of marrying a prince, but Ophelia had taken it to mean nothing more
than her own discomfort with an arranged marriage and wishing to choose her suitor.
Clearly, she'd been wrong. Why had Mara said nothing sooner? Had she worried about the ramifications of what it would mean? A princess could not marry another girl, noble or otherwise. When she became queen, she would do whatever it took to ensure her sister's happiness.
Mara had made her sister swear not to tell their father of her transgression with Aurora.
Ophelia had no reason to tattle. Besides, she herself was not a young woman who would kiss and tell. She needed to calm her own nerves, thinking of Larkin, and perhaps trust that her family would accept him even though there was no royal blood in his veins. No Dacre daughter it seemed would ever be happy with marriage. "I shall tell father of Larkin when he won't have a heart attack knowing I've been sneaking out."
Mara snorted under her breath. "That shall never happen. Tell me a story about him."
Ophelia sighed. She didn't have time, not without being late. However, she couldn't resist her younger sister's smile. Thinking of Larkin sped up her heart and made her cheeks flush. When had she fallen in love with the young man? He had stolen his way into her heart, but she had not the faintest idea when it had begun. "He's warm, kind—a gentle soul. He helps those less fortunate. I've witnessed Larkin pay for a beggar's meal on many occasions." Ophelia hoped that would satisfy her nagging sister's curiosity. Divulging what it was like to press her lips to his or feel his engorged member against her dress as they danced intimately was not a story she wished to tell. Besides, she thought Mara would not desire such intimate details, either, considering her affection for Aurora.
"Why would he do that? We provide rations to the poor."
Did her sister not realize the need of the people grew every year? There was never enough food to feed the entire kingdom of Casmerelda. "Sometimes there isn't enough. Or they're too proud to come forward looking for help." Ophelia dropped a kiss to her sister's cheek. "He's a gentleman. You'd like him if you ever met him."
"Maybe he's doing this to impress you?"
"No." She'd been around Larkin long enough to know what was real and what wasn't. "He barely can afford his own plate. He's taken on additional responsibilities to pay for our nights at the tavern."
"Why don't you pay?"
"He'd never allow it." Ophelia refrained from telling Mara that she'd lied about her name and that she was next in line for the throne. It was something Ophelia should have told Larkin, but she'd waited too long. Now it complicated matters. She'd fallen in love and feared she'd lose him.
"Let me come with you. Aurora is visiting her family for the week. The palace gets boring after a while."
"Absolutely not!" Had Mara grown mad? She allowed no guards to accompany her and would not risk any life besides her own.
The brunette sighed and folded her arms across her chest. Pouting, just like a child, she emitted a heavy breath, blowing her bangs to the side. "Fine. Do you love him?"
Ophelia smiled brightly. "Almost as much as you."
That seemed to settle Mara down, at least momentarily, on the idea of tagging along. Silence enveloped them as Ophelia applied a coat of ruby lipstick and added a dash of eyeshadow to accentuate her features. She desired to dress up for him, to wear a gown fit for a princess, but there was too much risk involved, for both of their sakes.
"Have you kissed him yet?" Mara was full of questions tonight.
"Yes." Ophelia's cheeks flamed at the admission. She wasn't supposed to be kissing other boys. Although her heart was tied to Larkin, in less than a year she would marry Prince Astin Stafford. Her parents had settled with an arranged marriage when they were young for the sake of the kingdom, but that wasn't what she desired. Countless times she had contemplated running away, but where would she go? She couldn't hide forever.
Mara grinned, leaning forward at the edge of the bed, tugging on her bottom lip with her teeth. "Is Larkin a good kisser?"
Ophelia opened the trunk at the foot of her bed. She rummaged through for a moment, pulling out a dark blue cloak. The leaves had been falling fast, and winter was coming soon. She secured the ribbon around her neck and tossed the hood up over her head. She bent and dropped another kiss to her sister's cheek. "He's an amazing kisser. Now get out and go to bed!"
Mara whined, "I will, after I watch you leave."
Ophelia rolled her eyes. No sense in arguing with Mara. She wouldn't rat Ophelia out for sneaking out of the tower and down to the city streets. Mara had known about Ophelia slipping out to meet Larkin for over a year. Ophelia unlocked the window and pushed the heavy glass upward. It squeaked, but no one ever came to check on her. Perhaps the guards knew what she was up to and didn't care? Or maybe they were too busy playing cards and gambling their night's pay.
She swung one leg and then the other out the window, sitting on the ledge. "Leave it cracked for me to get back in." She crawled out onto the nearest branch. Using the moonlight to see, she carefully climbed down the tree. Ophelia glanced back at her bedroom window. Mara stood, candle in hand, waving to her older sister. Ophelia waved back before dashing through the darkened streets away from the palace.
She navigated the dirt paths and pulled the cloak tighter around her petite frame as she shivered.
As she rushed down the narrow streets and without the moon to guide her, she found it difficult to see the path at her feet. She hummed softly, her breath and noise trying to warm herself as much distract her from the night chill that settled on the kingdom. Just thinking about him and the warm fire inside kept her extremities from burning cold. He had a way of arousing her without so much as having to touch her physically. His deep breath as it caressed her cheek when she leaned in made a delicious shiver run down her spine, causing her insides to tingle and wetness to seep from her folds. She would never admit to such embarrassing feelings that he brought upon her, for fear of what he might say. She may have grown into a young woman, but her desires were fueled out of her wanting and craving everything that he could not give her without royal blood.
Why did she continue to care and listen to her father, the king of Casmerelda? Would it not be better to find her own happiness with the man she loved?
In the distance, she could see the tavern and a gentleman standing outside. It had to be Larkin. He always waited outside for her. He had once jokingly insisted that he wanted all the other patrons to know she was taken.
"You're late." Larkin feigned annoyance when she approached. He shuffled upon his feet, in a clear attempt to keep warm.
"Sorry, I got out as quickly as I could. My sister wanted to chat before I left." Ophelia wrapped her arms around Larkin's neck, pulling him into an embrace. The heat between them sizzled, the cold air long forgotten as she pressed her lips to his, drinking in his warmth, which only further stirred the desires, she felt for him.
Pulling back, her lips stung and her nose ached as she scrunched it, feeling the numbing effects of the chill. "It's cold tonight. Can we go inside?" She shivered and rubbed her hands together to keep warm. Ophelia could smell firewood burning from inside the tavern.
"It's not that cold." He breathed in a whiff of autumn air. "It's not even winter yet. Come on." He opened the door and led her into the warmth of the building. Music blared from the four musicians playing near the door. They looked cold, bundled in brown and black coats with thick scarves, as they sang to the crowd. The floor vibrated from the patrons dancing and added a hint of sizzle to the air, exciting the crowd.
"Are you going to dance with me tonight?" Ophelia asked, stepping further inside, away from the cold draft of the door. His warm liquid honey eyes always mesmerized her. She held his hand as they moved further into the tavern. No one recognized her as Princess Ophelia. Out here, she was just Leila. None knew her father was King Philip or that she was next in line for the throne. She reveled in being anonymous, slipping into the crowd and pretending to live as one of them, a commoner. It was the only time she was given the opportunity to blend in.
"If I agree, will you finally let me meet your family?"
Ophelia pursed her lips, trying to come up with an excuse. Nothing came to mind. "We've talked about this. My father doesn't want me seeing anyone." Ophelia wouldn't risk his life, and giving him the honest reason would do him no good, either.
"What about your mother?" Larkin pressed the issue. "Surely, she can help sway him?"
"Maybe if she wasn't dead."
That stopped Larkin in his tracks. "I'm sorry, Leila. I had no idea."
How could he have known? She'd never told him her mother had been Queen Marie. Had he known she was the princess and heir to the throne, he'd have known the brutal details of her mother's murder. Although Casmerelda was a small and relatively young kingdom, everyone knew of the queen's death; word had traveled as far as Stile, a country that bordered the Jade Sea along the southwestern most point.
Shouts erupted from inside the castle walls. Ophelia's eyes shot open. The clank of metal against metal caused a shiver to course down her spine. She froze, unable to move, uncertain what was going on.
"Ophelia!" Her mother rushed into the bedroom, a candle in one hand and baby Mara in the other. Swiftly, she shut the door with her. "Take your sister. Get under the bed!"