Ravage
Royal Fae Academy: Book 1
Lacey Carter Andersen
Contents
Dedication
Chapter 1
Esmeray
Chapter 2
Esmeray
Chapter 3
Esmeray
Chapter 4
Bron
Chapter 5
Esmeray
Chapter 6
Esmeray
Chapter 7
Lucian
Chapter 8
Dwade
Chapter 9
Esmeray
Chapter 10
Esmeray
Chapter 11
Bron
Chapter 12
Esmeray
Chapter 13
Lucian
Chapter 14
Esmeray
Chapter 15
Dwade
Chapter 16
Esmeray
Chapter 17
Malin
Also By Lacey Carter Andersen
About the Author
Copyright 2020
Published by Lacey Carter Andersen
Cover Art by AKA Marketing & Book Cover Design
This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. All characters are over the age of eighteen. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
Dedication
To my husband—your love is the inspiration for everything I do.
~ Lacey Carter Andersen
1
Esmeray
I stand on a balcony overlooking the darkened city I’d grown up in. Or, more specifically, the city I’d grown up on the outskirts of. This human town is surrounded by some of the most powerful families of my kind, so naturally, I’ve been drawn to it since I was a young girl. From my view above it all, this place looks like any other, filled with pretty buildings and pretty lights and pretty lies.
But I’ve tasted these people. I’ve fed on these people. And I know the secrets no one else can see.
In my hand is a pale red drink I only pretend to sip as I enjoy the sensation of the wind stirring the scents of the city, breathing to life the metallic tang of the buildings and the cars and the heavy scent of tar from the roads. It’s refreshing and different, a much needed break from the real world. And yet, I’m filled with a longing to return home to my family grounds. I miss the creatures that slink amongst the woods, and the ghosts that float between the headstones and the graveyard. More than that, a ghostly warning still echoes in my mind.
A warning of death to come.
But I have to feed. And if I’d remained at home, I would’ve been hungry, haunted by hot dreams of men who could never be mine, and overwhelmed with a bone-deep sense of unease.
It’s better that I’m here. Worrying and obsessing aren’t common traits of my kind. And far be it for me to be anything other than what I was born to be.
The music in the club seems to vibrate beneath my feet, calling to me, reminding me that I had a purpose in coming out tonight. Food isn’t enough to sustain my kind. It’s pleasant. It’s better than nothing. But my main food source is here, inside.
Sighing, I set down my drink and decide I’ve put it off long enough. I need to find my victim and decide if tonight I just need to feed, or if I want to fuck too.
Turning back toward the inside of the club, I walk past people seated at the quiet tables outside. Every man’s head turns at my approach. And I know that when they look at me, all they see is a young woman in a tight dress. But then, that’s all I want them to see.
A predator’s greatest skill is to seem innocent to its prey.
I move down the steps to the busiest part of the club, to a place where people are crammed together as they linger at the bar or grind against each other on the dance floor. There, I let my senses stretch out, searching for negative emotions, especially jealousy and anger, two of my favorites. I move around the room until I spot the perfect target, a man glaring out at the dance floor. Or more so, glaring at a couple dancing.
With a practiced eye, I watch him. He wanted the woman, but the other man had gotten to her first, and now he raged within. I’d definitely be full after feeding on him, but he was certainly not someone I wanted to fuck after. Yes, he was tall, blond, and in shape, but there was something unattractive about him. About the feeling radiating from him that the woman should belong to him, like an object.
Still, sometimes not liking my victim made it easier.
Sauntering across the room on my heels, I squeeze between the dancers. Several men try to pull me closer, but I wave them off. Within them I sense arousal and excitement. Yes, I can feed off those emotions too, but they usually left me hungry.
This man was my meal tonight.
When I draw up next to him, I order a water from the bartender and sit down. The man is instantly aware of me. I can feel it in the change in his demeanor and the way he shifts slightly closer.
“Want something else?” he asks.
I turn to him and smile. “No, the water is fine.”
His eyes rake over me. “You look good enough to eat.”
“So do you,” I say, enjoying my little joke, even if it’s cheesy. Turning slightly toward him, I place a hand on his thigh. “What’s such a handsome man doing here by himself?” It’s hard to keep the smirk from my face as I ask the question.
His scowl returns, and I sense the jealousy and anger returning. “Hell if I know.”
Through my touch, I start to tug at his emotions, bringing them inside of me. It’s just a taste, like the first mouthful of a delicious pie, but my stomach rumbles in appreciation. Soon I’ll drain him of his negative emotions and the hunger inside of me will finally be quenched.
The next morning he’ll feel like hell, like he drank too much. But otherwise, he’ll be fine. I’m not exactly going to suck him dry and leave him dead in the middle of the club.
That would draw too much attention, and besides, killing is reserved for those truly deserving of it.
Suddenly, a hand grabs my arm tightly.
I turn a little, prepared to unleash my magic on whoever was foolish enough to touch me, and stare up into a familiar face. My jaw drops open, and I forget all about my victim. Bron is here!
Tall, dark, sexy Bron. But why?
It’s like my brain isn’t comprehending what I’m seeing right in front of my face. Maybe because it’s impossible. My older brother’s best friend should still be at the academy with him. And if he wasn’t at the academy, he wouldn’t be here. He hadn’t come to our hometown in years.
“Don’t,” he says, and there’s a warning in his hazel eyes.
I stare in confusion. His jaw is locked. Anger radiates from him so deliciously that I almost stand up and lick him, and what’s that? Jealousy?
Suddenly, his emotions disappear.
My stomach aches at the loss of such a banquet. “Don’t what?” I ask.
His gaze flickers to the other man. “Let’s go. I need to talk with you.”
He needs to talk with me? About what? The last time I saw my brother’s friends they treated me like his annoying little sister after years of being my best friend too. Now, out of nowhere, Bron shows up ordering me not to enjoy my meal?
“Let me finish first.”
His eyes flash with an unnamed emotion. “Not a chance.”
I
lick my lips and his gaze follows the movement. “I’m hungry.”
“Fuck,” he swears. “Come on then.”
“And what am I going to eat?” I ask, surprised by the husky note to my voice.
He raises a brow. “If you come with me, I’ll let you taste me.”
Suddenly, the human is between us. “If she’s going to taste anyone tonight, it’s going to be me.”
“Sit the fuck down,” Bron orders, his free hand bunching into a fist.
The human seems to realize a second too late that Bron is a good head taller than him with muscles for miles. I always thought Bron had a sexy edge to him, but tonight, there’s something dangerous about him that sends a strange thrill down my spine. For a second my worry about the two idiots fades away, and my gaze is glued to Bron’s big arms. The academy must have a damned good gym.
“We’re leaving,” Bron says.
The guy opens his mouth, and then snaps it closed. Smart, buddy, no need to get your ass kicked.
Bron’s hand closes around my arm once more, and he’s hauling me out of the club through the back door. Every instinct inside of me wants to rebel, to put him in his place, to remind him that I’m not the kind of woman he should be grabbing and hauling anywhere. Yet, I haunt this club regularly, and I wasn’t about to make a scene, so I let him drag me out.
But the second we step out into the cold night, I stop walking, forcing him to stop.
“Come on!” And I don’t exactly appreciate the note to his voice.
“You took my meal, now you’ve become my meal.”
His gaze moves over me again. “We’ve got other things to worry about.”
Irritated, I shove him back against the wall of the alley. “I went with you, but I’m not going any further until I’m fed.”
He’s breathing hard. “Fine, but make it quick.”
I close my eyes and place a hand on his muscular chest. My senses stretch out, but he’s invisible to me. “You have to let me in,” I say.
He’s tense beneath my touch, but slowly I sense him. Anger, worry, and an edge of jealousy.
I take a shaky breath in. Some people’s negative emotions leave a bad taste in my mouth, usually if they’re a bad person. But good people, with the feelings that feed my kind, there’s something sweet and delicious about the way they taste. And Bron, he tastes damn good.
Drinking him in, I shift closer, and his hands are suddenly at my waist. Our bodies press together, and I feel him releasing more and more of himself to me. I moan and press harder against him, arousal uncoiling within me. I don’t always get horny when I feed, but Bron has always been a weakness of mine.
My lips are pressing against his throat before I realize what I’m doing.
Suddenly his emotions cut off from me, and I sag against him, gasping for breath. Yes. I’m full, but I wanted so much more than this. I wanted him.
“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I pulled back too fast.”
His arms around me keep me from falling, but slowly I slide my arms around his neck and open my eyes. He’s staring at me in a way I’ve never seen him do before, and even I know pure lust when I see it right in front of me. I reach my senses out, but his walls are firmly up, and I hate that they are because I want to prove what I can see.
“Esmeray.” My name is almost a groan of desire. “We need to talk.”
“Talk?” I say. No, we don’t need to talk, we need to fuck.
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Have you seen your brother?”
Every muscle in my body tenses. “What the hell do you mean? He’s at the academy, with you. Isn’t he?”
A guarded look comes over Bron’s face. “If you see him, I want you to call me. You have my number, right?”
I jerk out of his arms. “What are you talking about? Is he okay?”
“You have my number?”
I shove him. “What’s going on? Talk to me!”
He glares and reaches out, grabbing me by the arm.
I try to jerk back from him, but he pulls me against him. “Do I need to put my number in your fucking phone, or do you have it?”
Without thinking, I try to smack him.
He catches my other arm, and his gaze moves down to my cleavage. Again, a wave of arousal radiates off him for the briefest moment before it disappears. And I know damn well he must be upset to have let his guard down.
“Tell me what’s going on,” I repeat again. “He’s my best friend. If he’s in danger—“
“He’s probably fine,” Bron tells me, and I can’t be sure if his words are a lie. “I just worry.”
Suddenly, he releases me and steps away. “Go home, Esmeray. Be safe.”
When he turns and starts walking out of the alley, I follow. “What the hell kind of cryptic meeting was this?”
He doesn’t answer, just keeps going, his back straight, a I don’t give a shit swagger as he walks. When he finally stops, I realize he’s standing beside my car in the parking lot.
“Don’t tell anyone I was here,” he says. “And don’t worry about anything, I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Damn it, Bron!” I glare at him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, then turns and walks away.
I almost chase him, but if Bron is anything like the boy I remember, he’s stubborn as hell. If he’s decided not to tell me anything, then nothing I say is going to change his mind.
Getting into my sports car, I turn on the engine and gun it home. When I get there I’m calling my brother, and I’m not stopping until he answers and tells me he’s safe.
Our family has far too many enemies not to watch out for each other.
2
Esmeray
By the time I reach our lands on the outskirts of the city, a storm has blown in. Thunder rumbles above me and lightning splits the sky. Normally, weather that I love. Weather that I like to dance in with the ghosts in the graveyard, or howl in with the monsters in the woods.
But for the first time in my life, the weather feels…ominous. Like a warning of something terrible to come.
When the gates in front of our manor part, and I start down the long, dark driveway, something feels off. Never before have I minded being left alone while my parents traipse about the world, and my brother attends the prestigious Royal Fae Academy. But tonight, I don’t just feel alone. I feel…lonely.
I hit the button for the garage and steer my car into its usual spot. Then, killing the engine, I do what I was too afraid to do at the club. I call my brother. The line rings and rings, even though this late at night he should be wide awake. By the third unanswered phone call, I realize that I’m shaking.
Closing the garage door on the lightning and the rain, I walk past the twelve cars parked perfectly parallel to each other and enter our house. I slip past the hallway filled with guest rooms and offices. I ignore the kitchen, the living room, and make a beeline up the stairs to my room at the far end of the top floor hall. I’m bound and determined to call my brother all night if that’s what it takes to get him to answer.
But when I open my bedroom door, I freeze in surprise. The massive bay windows have been thrown open wide, and the wind smashes the shutters against the walls. Rain drenches the sitting area, and the thunder seems to swell into my darkened room.
With careful steps, I cross the room and close the windows, sealing out the angry storm. I turn to find my lamp to switch the light on and see a shadow move beside the bed. Using my powers, I reach out for the mind of whoever was stupid enough to break into my house, ready and willing to kill the fool. But when I touch the mind, it’s not only familiar, but filled with pain and fear.
Racing around the bed, I collapse onto my knees. My brother lies on the floor, his hands painted red as he grips his bloody stomach. His skin is pale. His pupils are wide and filled with pain.
Never in my life have I seen my brother like this. He’s always seemed so strong, so untouchable, and for a minute I can’t seem to move or speak. I just star
e and stare at him, as if all of this is an illusion I can’t escape from. And then reality comes crashing down.
He needs me. He’s in shock.
“Rayne,” I whisper, then silently promise him that this time I’ll be strong so he doesn’t have to be.
His mouth opens into a grimace that’s almost a smile. “I—I wasn’t…I didn’t know if you would make it in time.”
In time? A strange tightness squeezes my chest and throat. We’re fae; we have nothing but time. I don’t know how Rayne got hurt, but he’ll live to see another day. Even if it kills me to see him like this.
I’m surprised when tears blur my vision. “I’m here now and everything is going to be okay. I’ll call a witch. She’ll help patch you up, and you’ll be—“
“No,” he whispers, and the word slides around us like it’s torn away.
I ignore him and grab my phone, sending a quick text to a witch not far from our house. In seconds, she responds that she’s on her way. A Bloodmore hurt enough to need healing would send any witch running.
“Lady Uma is on her way. You’re going to be okay,” I tell him, then reach out and stroke his face, hoping my touch will bring him back to reality, will remind him of who he is and that this too shall pass.
“I’m dying.” His words drop like stones between us.
I know I’m smiling as tears spill down my cheeks. “I know you’re hurting, but you’re not dying.”
“Esmeray, listen. They wanted me dead. They—planned this.”
Someone did this to him? My stomach twists. “It doesn’t matter what they wanted.”
He winces and withers on the floor, and I drop my hand, wishing more than anything that I could take his pain away.
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