Ravage

by Lacey Carter Andersen

  Alice presses a hand to her chest. “Oh, my!”

  “Second of all, I don’t need anyone to watch out for me. You want Dwade? Take him.”

  Something snaps inside of me. “I’m sparring with Esmeray.”

  Alice’s lips pull into a thin line. “Well, then, enjoy sparring with your dirty-mouthed little Bloodmore.”

  “Oh, I will,” I say, and my voice comes out deep, hinting at things I hadn’t even realized I was thinking.

  But when I turn back to Esmeray, there’s no denying it. I don’t want to just protect her. I don’t want another man’s hands on her. For a second I picture her sparring with another man, and rage and jealousy overwhelm me. The emotions pour from me, making it hard to breathe.

  I don’t even realize I’ve closed my eyes when I feel someone touch my chest. My eyes flash open, and there’s Esmeray, her small hand stroking down my chest, her eyes darkened with desire. My brain freezes, and I feel her drinking in my emotions, and god dammit does the knowledge turn me on. I want her to feed on me and only me. I want to fill her up, and then offer her my cock.

  A shudder rolls through me. There was nothing more intimate than feeding on your mate’s emotions while you pleasure their body. I’d never experienced it before, but from the look on Esmeray’s face, that was what she wanted right now too.

  “Okay, class, let’s get started!”

  I can’t look away from her. If she gives me the smallest signal, I’ll drag her from this room and find a quiet place to fuck her. I’ll tear down those little shorts and stroke her. Then I’ll let my cock ease into her tight body and I’ll claim her.

  Finally.

  When she pulls away and I feel her close herself off from me, I’m left staring. I felt her arousal. Didn’t I? Fuck. Being tied to her meant that I was aware of things that most fae weren’t, like when someone feeds on me. Most of the time it was only a distant awareness, but with her it was so intense it overwhelmed me. But if this need was as strong in her as it was in me, how could she have pulled back?

  “Today we’ll start with our stretching, then launch right into sparring.” I look up to see Professor Maneth circling us. The woman was rumored to be half fae and half ogre. I had no idea if there was any truth to the rumors, but she was the only person on campus bigger than I am. Her shoulders were easily the size of my own, and she looked just as comical as I did in the gym clothes. And yet, no one in their right mind would point it out to her.

  We start out stretching, and my gaze keeps returning to Esmeray, even though I tell myself not to look at her. I fucking love the way her body moves. Is she even aware of the grace of her movements? She’s like an animal rather than a human. Or a dancer. Everything she does seems to draw my gaze to the lines of her shoulders, or her legs, and several times the professor has to remind me that we’re onto the next stretch.

  By the time we have to spar, I’m rethinking my decision to partner with her, but the coach puts us together anyway, and I really try to focus on getting my cock to soften. If we start tumbling around together, there’s no doubt in my mind she’s going to notice the impact she has on me.

  “Mat in the corner?” I say.

  She shrugs, and I lead her to my favorite mat. It’s away from the others, and the window looks out on the gardens at the back of the school. Normally, I like this spot because the coach likes to partner me with people who need help. I can guide them softly, without the eyes of the whole class on us. But it suddenly feels intimate.

  “Do you know how to spar?” I ask her.

  She lifts a brow. “I usually fight in a…different way.”

  I had no doubt of that. This woman screams of danger. “Let’s go over the basics.”

  Even though she seems uninterested, I show her how to put someone in a hold and how to get out of it. I show her the proper stance, and remind her to bend her knees ever-so-slightly. When she continues to give me a bored look, I stand to my full height.

  “It doesn’t matter how powerful we are, Esmeray. Every tool we can gain will help us to protect ourselves when it’s needed.”

  “I’m not worried about needing to know how to roll around with a man.”

  I try not to sound jealous when I say, “I talked with Lucian and Bron. If you’re going to stay here, you damn well need to learn how to fight with your hands too.”

  “Well then teach me, oh great wrestler.”

  Something snaps inside of me. This woman is the most precious thing to me in this world, but if I can’t get her to take this seriously, then she’s opening herself up to be hurt. I can’t let that happen.

  I launch into action, and the air changes as she scrambles to escape me. Using my strength, I take her down, tossing her gently onto her back. Before she can rise, I climb on top, pinning her arms above her head.

  Breathing hard, I whisper, “See what I mean?”

  Her gaze holds mine. “Right now…I could kill you if I wanted to.”

  Unable to help myself, I settle a little harder on top of her. “But you don’t want to.”

  She wiggles under me, and all my blood runs south. I shudder, trying to keep control. But it’s a losing battle. With each second that passes, my willpower weakens until I shove off of her and stand once more.

  I offer her my hand and she eyes me, her face unreadable, as she takes my hand. Helping her to her feet, we’re suddenly too close again. Taking a step back from her, I clear my throat and try to remember that I’m here to teach Esmeray much-needed skills.

  “Again.”

  We circle each other, and I can see it in her face. She’s taking this a little more seriously this time. Esmeray was always the competitive type. Maybe that would be enough to get her to actually learn something.

  Her mouth opens into a shocked O when I grab her and knock her back onto the ground softly. Then her eyes narrow, and this time she ignores my hand when I offer it. We spar some more, and I notice that when I correct her, she actually applies the feedback, even if she pretends not to. By the end, I’m having to constantly block the attacks to my eyes and groin, and when she manages to kick my knees out from under me, she grins above me in triumph.

  I can’t help myself. When she offers me her hand, I yank her down beside me.

  We both grin, then sit up, taking a minute to catch our breath.

  “So this is what you’ve been doing here?” she pants. “Beating up women?”

  I shrug. “Sometimes.”

  “And I bet it’s been so hard to roll around with a bunch of blondes.” She says it with a smirk that doesn’t reach her eyes.

  I almost shrug again, but force myself to answer instead. “None of these women are…my type.”

  “None of them?” she asks, raising a brow.

  “No.” I let a slow breath out. “I like my women a little…darker. I like them with an edge.”

  “Know any fae like that?”

  “I do,” I say, holding her gaze for a second too long before she looks away.

  “Well, I’m not going to be filling my time up here with men either.” I feel relieved for the briefest second before she continues, “Except for when I need a good lay.”

  It takes effort to hide my emotions, to hide the jealousy and rage that flare to life inside of me. “So then, you’ll be focused on your classes?”

  She gives a humorless laugh. “No. I don’t give a fuck about my classes. The only reason I came here…” She stops talking abruptly.

  “Why did you come here, Esmeray?”

  Rolling her neck, she looks to the other people in the class. “I guess we’re practicing using weapons now.”

  “Esmeray--”

  She stands, ignoring me as she heads for the weapons’ stand. I knew she was getting into trouble already, but I didn’t consider that she might be looking for it. We’d have to do something about that. No, Bron would have to handle that. I had no idea how to tell this woman no about anything.

  I follow her to the stand and hand her a dagger,
before taking my own. For a little while, we practice in front of the mirror. I show her how to hold it, how to attack in different ways and different situations, and then we go to the targets and I teach her how to throw them.

  All of this is so natural to me, like breathing, but that’s expected from the child of the Luthers. My family were known as warriors, as the best of the best. We were coveted. While from the moment I was born I was taught to be the heir of our house, to not just fight, but to lead, my brothers were sought after before they could take their first step. Every father wanted his daughter to marry one of us. Every family wanted to know that if they were in danger, we would come to their aid.

  Sometimes I forgot that not everyone was raised the way I was. Lucian was given the typical tutors for fighting, but I also taught him everything I knew. And while Bron learned things from me, the way his step-father had taught him to fight was not something I could replicate.

  Not something I’d want to replicate.

  My family was fierce, but they weren’t cruel. They didn’t glory in losing control. They didn’t enjoy scaring children. So all of my friends kept pace with me when we practiced. It was only in these classes that I was reminded that most of the fae lacked our skills.

  So as I teach Esmeray, I remind myself to go slowly with her. Even though she picks up the movements as quickly as Rayne once did. And for a time, it feels like I’m not just teaching another student to fight. I’m teaching my mate to protect herself… There is no better thing a man can do. Because as much as I want to always be there for her, no one ever can. And if Rayne reminded us of anything, it’s that life is fragile and precious. Teaching her feels good. It feels right.

  I’ve never felt prouder to be a man. I’ve never felt more worthy of her.

  But soon she finds her own pace, and I’m no longer teaching her. I’m watching her. Frozen. Swept away by her grace, by her ferociousness. Of all the fae women I’ve helped over the years, none have felt like they could fight at my side in a battle.

  Esmeray could. My beautiful, extraordinary mate.

  When the professor tells us it’s time to clean up, I’m ready for a cold shower. Because I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me, but watching Esmeray with a dagger is hot as fuck. I needed time to calm down and get a hold on my arousal.

  We go back to the rack to put our weapons away, but Esmeray lingers, and as the other students head to the showers, I’m shocked to see her slip the dagger into the back of her shorts. What the fuck does she need with a dagger? As she heads into the showers, I watch her, my mind spinning.

  This wasn’t good.

  I take a quick shower and change, then wait outside of the class for her, lingering beneath the trees close to the entrance of the gym building. When she comes out, back in her dark clothes with Rayne’s bag slung across her body, I step out in front of her.

  She looks surprised. “You need something?”

  “Why did you take the dagger?” I ask, pinning her with my gaze.

  She shrugs and tries to walk past me.

  I catch her arm. “What are you doing?”

  Finally, her gaze connects with mine, and there’s fire in her expression. “My brother wasn’t a moron who accidentally killed himself. Someone ended his life, and I’m going to find out who.” She jerks her arm out of my grip. “And then I’m going to kill them.”

  Every muscle in my body tenses. She was already in enough danger here with her parentage and being Rayne’s sister. She didn’t need this. “No, you’re not.”

  Her lip curls. “You trying to tell me what to do, big boy? Because the only time I like a man to tell me what to do is in the bedroom...when I let him.”

  I can’t help but flinch at the idea of her with anyone else. “You’re not going to do this, because Rayne wasn’t murdered, he died, and you need to accept it.” The lies feel wrong, but Rayne would never forgive me if she got killed because of him.

  Suddenly, she steps closer, crowding my space. “You believe that Rayne accidentally stabbed himself?”

  Just the idea is stupid, but I hold her gaze. “Yeah.”

  “Then, I just have to ask you… Where were you the night Rayne died?”

  Shock vibrates through me. “What…what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying maybe you want me to believe this asinine story because you were involved.”

  It would’ve hurt less if she’d have slapped me. I rub my chest, trying to take the ache away. “How can you say that?”

  She takes a step back, but her expression is filled with rage. “I just want you to know, I’m going to find out the truth, no matter what. And not even you or Bron or Lucian are going to stop me.”

  Spinning on her heels, I watch as she walks away. And I don’t know if it’s the fact that she’s my mate, or that Rayne was my best friend, or the fact that nothing has hurt more in my life than losing him, but I feel like I’m losing him all over again. Only, this time, I’ve lost the faith of the woman I love most in this world.

  And now I have to tell the others.

  What a shitty day.

  9

  Esmeray

  My hands tremble as I shower, but it isn’t from weakness. The iron demon had left me feeling unusually sensitive, even a little tired, but I wasn’t weak. It would take more than that beast to make me feel such a way. What made me tremble, what made me feel so strange, was that I’d awakened in Lucian’s bed, cuddled against his side.

  And I’d never felt better.

  Something inside of me that felt vulnerable, almost like a monster without his claws, had wanted to lie there forever. It wanted me to forget all about my brother’s death, my reason for being here, and the lies I planned to unravel. It’d wanted me to sink into the peace that seemed to tug at my soul.

  So I’d gotten the fuck out of there.

  I turn off the shower, dry, and get ready for school. More bags had arrived sometime yesterday, and all my clothes had been taken out and hung up in the small closet. My parents must have had a tailor working overtime to make the dozen different pastel gowns that were the favorite clothes of the light fae. But I ignore them and ruffle through the drawers, finding that someone had packed away my favorite items as carefully as they’d concealed my vibrator.

  Like they were something I should be ashamed of. Apparently, the staff at this academy didn’t know me at all. Because even though at one time I might have tried to blend in with the light fae, that was the last thing I wanted now.

  I take out a dark t-shirt with some swirling lines of graphic art and a pair of dark jeans. I put them on, along with my second-favorite pair of boots. My first were likely still covered in blood and tossed on Lucian’s floor. And there was no way in hell I’d risk running into him just to get them back, not when I was still feeling weird about last night.

  Then I snag my backpack. It was actually Rayne’s messenger bag. It was a dark green color with patches sewn along the strap. A patch from every place he visited on his summer road trips with Lucian, Bron, and Dwade. My heart ached a little as I ran my hand over them. I’d been so envious of my brother and his road trips, but he’d promised me that one day we’d take one together.

  But I guess we’d never get to see The Giant Causeway in Scotland, or Thor’s Well in Oregon. I guess we’d never see anything more together.

  I close my eyes as they begin to burn. But instead I see Rayne’s face in my mind.

  My fists clench the strap of his bag. He was so young. He had so much life to live.

  Whoever killed him was going to pay.

  I’m breathing hard when I open my eyes and head out of my room, locking the door behind me. The living room is still dark and quiet, but I expected it to be. I’d wanted it to be. I had a mission, so the less time I could spend with my brother’s best friends, the better.

  I slip outside and walk around the courtyard until I find the dining hall. There, I get a small breakfast and a giant coffee and sit in a quiet corner. To my surprise, t
he female fae seem to dominate this time of the day. They’re everywhere, their giant pastel dresses making this room like a place straight out of the past. They sit at tables with tiny bowls of fruit or oatmeal, and eat while laughing.

  It’s strange. Maybe it’s because I haven’t spent a lot of time around people, but all of this feels so strange. So fake. So forced. Do they really all just feel like smiling and laughing all the time, or are they just better at hiding the darkness beneath?

  A woman’s gaze catches mine and the joy dies from her face. Within seconds, the two other women at the table turn and follow her gaze. I can’t help myself. I salute them with my coffee, then stare, waiting.

  The first woman stands. Her pale blonde hair is braided down her back, and she has a long face with big blue eyes. Her dress is a light shade of blue that matches her eyes. In all ways she looks like all the other women here, save for the necklace she wears. It’s a familiar dark red stone, but when she moves the stone seems to change, like flowing blood, and I study it as she approaches, recognizing it instantly, even if I can’t decide why a light fae would wear it.

  I reach my senses out and taste her emotions: happiness, excitement, with a dash of nervousness. And…sadness? Already this woman feels confusing and complicated, definitely not someone I want to talk to. But unable to help myself, I drink in her nervousness. Not too much. Not enough to make her tired or weak, just enough to sate the hunger that food and coffee can’t fill.

  “Hello, I’m Mary Ann,” she says, smiling, even though it doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

  “Esmeray.”

  She looks a little startled, but her gaze moves to my brother’s backpack. “You must be Rayne’s sister. I heard it rumored you were going to take his place.”

  “Yes.”

  She shifts again, and her nervousness flows out of her.

  I shudder as I drink it in, forcing myself to hold back.

  “I can’t…I can’t read you,” she says, her smile faltering.