Reaper Academy: A Dark Forbidden Romance

by Allison West

  "What do you want to know?" Leila asked.

  Mara ignored the brunette and walked over to Jasper. "Did you know my sister or just Leila? Don't lie to me and tell me she didn't know Ophelia. I could feel the connection when Leila was here, the longing for a friend that I didn't know she had. Did Leila meet Ophelia at the tavern? Is that how they knew each other?"

  Jasper opened his mouth and shut it. Leila guessed he probably didn't know what to say. Silence enveloped the room.

  "Damn it!" Mara shouted. "I asked you a question! I'm your queen; you will answer me." Her eyes narrowed and her cheeks burned.

  Leila answered, "Leila Bele is dead. She drowned several months ago in a freak accident in the Jade Sea trying to save a woman's life. The current swept them both away." It was the logical choice, to tell the truth and also spare the details Mara didn't need to know.

  Mara remained quiet for a few moments, probably letting the words sink in. "I don't believe you! What about that boy she was with, Wynter? Surely, he would tell me the truth."

  Violetta squeezed Jasper's hand, causing him to flinch. "It's true," Jasper said. "Leila is dead. Wynter's off in the southern region of Seora, grieving."

  "Leila was from Seora?" Mara asked. "That's why no one had seen her or responded to the parchment signs."

  Leila didn't object. If Mara wanted to believe that her other self had been from Seora, was that not better for the reapers? It would keep Mara away from her home in Vera, should she ever go poking her head around.

  Mara slowly backed up into the chair across from the sofas, sitting down with a sigh. "I suppose I'll never know the connection between Leila and Ophelia. I find it difficult to believe Leila didn't know Ophelia. When I found her and Wynter, they were in my sister's bedroom. They were hiding something. At the time, I chalked it up to sneaking around the palace out of curiosity, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that's unlikely the case. She said she had been friends with Larkin. Surely, Larkin would have introduced my sister to his friends. I'm certain of it." Mara rubbed her forehead, seeming to grow frustrated with having no more answers than when they started. "Do you know how Leila and Larkin met, if they're from different countries? Did Larkin travel a lot?"

  Jasper stood up and walked over to Mara, resting a hand on her arm. "I never knew Larkin or your sister. None of us did, and if Leila had, we didn't know about it. Everyone keeps secrets. I'm sorry we can't give you the answers you're looking for."

  "You're right," Mara said. "I do have one other question for you, Jasper."

  Jasper mustered up the best smile he could. "Of course, Your Majesty."

  "I've been having these dreams of black wings and a woman with raven-black hair. You and Violetta are always in the dream, along with Leila. I know it sounds crazy and I shouldn't even be telling you about it, but I've never in my life had the same dream over and over again. I keep hearing the words soul transfer or death exchange. I don't know what it means. It's like a fleeting whisper in the darkness that invades my dreams almost every night."

  Jasper coughed, clearly startled by her revelation. Mara had been remembering the night she had been marked for death. "I'm sure it's just your nerves playing tricks on you. It's not a secret, Queen Mara, that you've been through a lot with your sister and now your father's death. In fact, it would be strange if you weren't grieving and having what one might consider to be odd dreams. With time, I'm sure such strange dreams will fade," Jasper said.

  Leila hoped they would. She didn't know what would happen if Mara realized the dream had been real. Would she consider herself crazy? Others certainly would if she told them about the experience.

  Mara smiled weakly. She didn't look convinced. "I hope you're right."

  "Is there anything else, Your Majesty?" Violetta asked. "It's getting late, and we have a long ride home."

  "You'll never make it to Seora at night. It's too dangerous to travel in the dark," Mara said. "Stay the night, and in the morning, you can travel home."

  Violetta glanced back at Jasper. Leila guessed it was because Mara had assumed they were heading to Seora. Again, it was best not to let her know where they could be found.

  "As much as we'd love to," Leila said and smiled, "we really must be on our way. There's a full moon that will give us enough light to see the road through the forest home. Your coronation today was lovely. I'm sure your sister and family would have been proud of you."

  Chapter 38

  Leila climbed out of the carriage and stumbled inside for bed. Opening the front door, Leila gasped. "Wynter?"

  Wynter sat up from the sofa and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "You're back," he said with a yawn and stood up. "Must have been a fun party; you're later than I expected." Candles lay strewn out along the room, half-burned, waiting for her return.

  Violetta stepped inside with Jasper in tow. "Excuse us," she whispered, taking his hand as she led him into her bedroom. Jasper shut the door behind them.

  Wynter shifted on the sofa, scooting over. "Come sit with me."

  "Sure." Leila slipped out of her shoes and coat, leaving them by the door before sitting down on the sofa with Wynter.

  "How did it go today with the coronation?"

  "Good, until Mara noticed Jasper. I thought we dodged an arrow, but turns out I was wrong. She had guards halt our escape and drag us back for her own small interrogation session. She wanted to know about Leila, and of course, I couldn't tell her I was her or Ophelia."

  "So what did you do?" Wynter asked, leaning forward closer to her. At least she'd managed to come home, which meant they weren't arrested.

  "I told her Leila drowned a few months ago and died. It isn't exactly a lie. I mean that is what happened to my body."

  Wynter's brow furrowed, looking slightly troubled by the news. "And she bought it?"

  "Well, she doesn't think I'm a grim reaper, so I guess we're in the clear, except for one thing." There was no way that Queen Mara would have suspected even an ounce of the truth. Certainly, the day could have gone worse, had she requested to have them thrown into a cell for harboring someone wanted by the queen.

  "Which is?" Wynter asked. What could she possibly have known?

  Leila stared deeply into his pale blue eyes. "Mara mentioned a recurring dream she's been having. She remembers Juliana as a dark angel, wings and all."

  Wynter grew pale. "Please tell me you're joking."

  Silence filled the room for a moment. "I wish I were," Leila said.

  Leila stood and stretched. Her eyes landed on the dagger sitting on the table. "What's that?"

  "Long story." Wynter glanced at the dagger, remembering the trucidator that he had destroyed with the weapon.

  "I'm going to get ready for bed. Join me after you blow out these candles." She took one candle with her and quietly walked to the bedroom, disrobing before climbing beneath the covers.

  The soft patter of footsteps found its way into her bedroom as Wynter blew out the candle, leaving it near impossible to see Wynter as he undressed. She could, however, make out the faint outline of his wings and feel the gentle breeze as he settled them beside her when he climbed into bed.

  His warm skin caressed her against the mattress as she curled into his embrace. "How was today?" Leila asked. "Did you save your first soul? And why is there a dagger on my living room table?" A hint of a smile played on her lips.

  He loved her inquisitive nature.

  Wynter had been grateful for the distraction when Leila had gotten home. It had given him time to further relax and not think about the mess he'd caused in Seora.

  Wynter confessed about saving Benedict and how wrong it had felt. "Some people are meant to die. I don't understand why my vision showed him, because I don't believe he was worth saving. He'd held a young woman captive in his home, probably doing terrible things to her, for who knows how long!" It disgusted him to think that Benedict was still alive because of him. "I made a mistake today." His words weighed heavily on him and anyone els
e whom Benedict might harm. Wynter wasn't a murderer, though. He couldn't take a life, even after he'd saved the man from death.

  Leila remained quiet for a few moments before answering. "Perhaps you interpreted the vision wrong? Or he was supposed to live for an entirely different reason you can't yet see? Maybe you should ask Juliana about it?"

  "It gets worse, Leila." He hadn't intended to tell anyone about the trucidator, but he relayed the story to Leila about the creature, Erebus, that had stopped him in his tracks on the way home and how he'd acquired the dagger during the afternoon. Perhaps it hadn't mattered, but the fact it had glowed an eerie blue after he cut the beast had him questioning everything he'd learned.

  She ran her hands down his back, between his wings, massaging the tense knots of his muscles. "Perhaps the trucidator was meant solely to scare you. Or maybe the dagger frightened the creature off?"

  "Well, if that's the case, it worked. He threatened me, and I have the distinct feeling that it's not over. He'll be back for revenge because I spared a man's life who had been marked by death." He laughed at how absurd it sounded. Wynter's heart raced just thinking about it. How would he ever get to sleep?

  Leila kissed Wynter's cheek and then his lips. "We're already dead. What could a trucidator do that hasn't already been done? It's all threats. I'm sure of it."

  "I hope you're right," Wynter said. He'd have to be certain to keep the dagger on him, just in case it was needed again. His fingers trailed over her hips, relaxing against the mattress as she slid her leg between his, pulling him closer.

  His cock stirred and his heart leapt in his chest, having missed being tangled in her embrace. Wynter's fingers smoothed down her back, feeling over the soft skin of her bottom, pulling her tighter. His other hand trailed along the side of her breast and up across the mound until he reached her nipple, flicking it with his thumb.

  She moaned and his lips moved down her torso, capturing her breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling against her nipple, wanting to arouse her and make them both feel more alive than ever.

  "Wynter," she whispered, her voice a soft purr as a moan slipped past her lips on his descent down her stomach.

  He wanted to kiss her and watch her writhe beneath his grasp. His fingers grazed over her hips and danced across her thighs, teasing her as he waited to touch her silky folds.

  Leila grew restless, her hands rubbing up and down his chest, roughly making a path to his stomach, refusing to slow down or take her time. "I need you," she said, crashing her lips over his.

  He drank in her warmth, her taste, their tongues dueling as he pulled her tighter, climbing above her body. Her hand wrapped around him, dragging him closer against her skin.

  "There's no rush," he said, reminding her that there would be no interruptions. He hoped the scroll would remain dormant for a few hours while he could devour every inch of her body, making her tremble in ecstasy until morning.

  Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as her lips crashed against his, pulling him against her as she stroked his jaw. Her hands moved lower, over his hip and down his stomach toward his erection.

  Wynter slid his hand down over hers, gently pushing her palm away. As much as he enjoyed her going down on him, tonight, he wanted to feel her tight cunny against his cock. "Climb onto all fours," he commanded, loosening his grasp on her body.

  Leila raised an eyebrow, curious what he intended to do. She paused momentarily before taking his instruction, getting onto her hands and knees.

  "Good girl." He ran his hand up and down her back, enjoying the sight of her unmarred flesh, the lack of wings, the sight that made her still look human even though she was a reaper. He dragged his fingers down toward her bottom, separating her cheeks, examining her pink pucker.

  "Wynter?" Her voice hitched slightly. Was she nervous? He wanted to claim her as his own, take her and make her solely his. Dipping his fingers into her slick cunny, he slid the juices back toward her bottom.

  "I want you, Leila." His voice was thick and heavy as he pushed a single digit in past her tight opening, stretching her as he prepared her for his thick cock.

  She moaned as he pumped his single digit in and out of her bottom, before thrusting two fingers as he listened to her gasps.

  "How does it feel?" It would take practice to make her ready for him.

  "Different," she rasped, her eyes clenched tight and her hands bunched into fists against the sheets.

  "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his two fingers momentarily pausing in her bottom.

  "Please, no." She wiggled her rear, encouraging him to continue.

  Wynter stretched her opening, his fingers like scissors, pulling her wider, wanting to make her ready and enjoy the sensation as he entered her bottom.

  With two fingers preparing her for entrance, his other hand circled the head of his cock, the precum glistening at the entrance of her bottom. No. She wasn't ready for him, even though he wanted to take her like that. Instead, he glided the head into her tight quim, hearing her soft gasp of glee as he stretched her but continued to thrust his digits into her bottom.

  "Wynter!" she gasped, shock evident in her voice as he plunged his cock fully into her cunny, wetness seeping around him. Each thrust grew deeper and more intense as he felt her walls around him spasm. It would not be long before she was tinkering on the edge of oblivion.

  Her hands were keeping her steady, her hips moving in time with his, grinding back, wiggling her bottom with each thrust and groan.

  "I want you to come for me, Leila," he whispered into her ear, pulling her as close as possible, his tongue dragging across her neck, sucking the wet skin right behind her ear as she shuddered in his arms. Her body tightened around his cock, spasming and clenching down as he pumped his fingers faster into her bottom, listening to her breathing and the sounds as she came undone.

  It was heavenly to witness and hear. Wynter thrust two more times, no longer holding back, releasing himself inside her, spent.

  Chapter 39

  The wind whipped across the house, causing the cottage to shudder and creak. Leila's eyes opened. It appeared to be night since the sun hadn't risen yet, but an odd orange glow lit up the night table: her scroll.

  Leila reached for the scroll, grimacing when she picked it up and felt the heat radiating from the parchment. Even when she'd failed to complete a reap on time and the scroll singed her, it had never glowed to this degree.

  In the distance, there were hooves and the squeak of wheels from a carriage. Who would be traveling at night in Vera? Surely, they were lost.

  Carefully, she unrolled it, reading it in the darkness, the scroll providing all the light she needed.

  The royal council requests your presence. A carriage will be arriving to pick you up. Do not delay.

  "Wynter." Leila's hand latched onto his arm, nudging him awake. She hadn't known the hour or what time they'd fallen asleep.

  "What is it?"

  "The royal council wants to meet with me, now." She climbed out of bed and lit a candle, providing the room with a hint of additional light while she rummaged around her closet, pulling out a blue gown. "This will have to do. Wynter, what does this mean?"

  "The royal council is made up of those who decide who is going to die. Juliana loaned me one of her books on the royal council and all the rules I'm supposed to adhere to."

  Leila worked on pulling the dress over her head. There wouldn't be time to freshen up. "What do you know? I need any and every detail, Wynter." Perhaps if she knew what she was up against, she could handle whatever interrogation were to follow.

  "There's Laima, who is quite ugly with her long blue nose and poisonous tongue. It's best not to stare at her too long. Legend has it that she had been young and beautiful until she was trapped in a coffin for seven years. Of course, that's her favorite punishment to dish out, at least on record. There were a few scribblings in the book about how she used her poisonous tongue when a ruling didn't go in her favor. De
ath changes people."

  Wynter sat up in bed and reached for the shade, pushing it slightly open to see outside. "They're here."

  "I know!" Her stomach ached with nerves. "Can you lace up the back of the gown?" Usually, Violetta helped, but she was asleep in the next room. Leila grabbed a brush to fix her hair. "So Laima broke the rules, and she is still on the royal council? How is that fair?"

  "Maybe they're just rumors."

  "I bet." Leila didn't believe it. "Who else is on the council?" She wanted as much information as possible, not that she had any idea why they were demanding her presence in the middle of the night.

  Wynter started lacing up the corset of her blue gown. "Keres is another unsightly creature with fangs, talons, and is covered in bloody garments because she feasts on the souls of unborn children. Then there's Pesta, who is one of the more pleasant undead of the group. She dresses in a black hood and carries a rake or broom, depending on her mood. If the broom accompanies her into the council chamber, it means you're sentenced to death, as she sweeps out the dead souls along with yours. Of course, we're all already dead, so who knows how that fares for us undead."

  "Do you know what they could want with me?"

  Wynter finished lacing her dress and rested his hands on her hips, turning her around in his arms. "No. I wish I could take your place."

  Leila laughed softly and rested her head in the crook of his neck. "No, you don't." Reluctantly, she pulled back. She wouldn't wish their invitation on anyone. It sounded frightening and to know the trouble Wynter had gotten involved in to save her sister, she was lucky they were leaving him alone. "I should go." She dropped a soft kiss to his lips, grabbed her scroll, quietly tiptoed into the hall, and found her shoes. Once outside, the scroll's light gradually died out.

  Leila stared at the black carriage and the four ghostly horses pulling it. A man wearing a black robe and hood sat up front. He was the perfect picture of death.