Noble Savages: A Dark High School Bully Romance Box Set

by Rina Kent

  “Let him go, Lev.” Aiden clutches my arm and it’s then I realise that a few more of the team are pulling me away from Chris.

  Or trying to.

  I release him and he slides to the ground, coughing and clutching his throat.

  Aiden’s brows furrow as he watches me with that calculative spark.

  I’m known to not get worked up on the team, so this must be putting Aiden’s mind into a loop.

  “Don’t fucking show up here again unless you plan to snatch your place back,” I bark at Chris and storm out of the locker room.

  I need a long drive and a smoke. Or a few.

  It’d be best if I don’t go back home tonight. Jonathan's face is the last thing I need to see.

  Murderous energy looms over my head like a thick fog with no way out.

  In the car park, I stop when I spot a petite figure lingering near the exit, right under the bulb.

  She must be waiting for Daniel.

  Earbuds in, Astrid has a sketchpad in her hands with her brows drawn. There’s a slight twist to her upper lip when she’s in full concentration. It’s adorable.

  Adorable.

  Fuck. I don’t remember the last time I ever thought of something as adorable.

  Astrid isn’t one of those girls who wear their uniform skirts as short as possible or their jackets at tight as possible. She wears her uniform with a quiet elegance that fits her petite frame and rebellious character.

  Only… she hasn’t been rebellious at all.

  She did return to school after I barged into her house, but since then, she’s been keeping to herself.

  No more distasteful pranks. No more challenges. No more… anything.

  She’s been treating me as non-existent since she returned to school. I thought I wanted her to back off and know her place, but now that I think about it, the sudden lack of her fight is part of what’s been pissing me off.

  I’ve been feeding off her negative energy like a starved predator, and now that she’s sealing herself in, I’m tempted to claw inside and pluck her out.

  There’s something about her that keeps pulling me in and I’m not the type to back off until I see the end of it.

  Time to see how much fight the princess has left.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Astrid

  Can you fight when the devil pulls you into the night?

  * * *

  Ugh. Not again.

  I frown at the sketch in my hands.

  Mum was a tattoo artist and did her best pieces when the customers gave her free reign. She used to say that spontaneous art is the best art. A real muse doesn’t ask for permission before striking.

  Looks like my muse is a freaking idiot.

  For the past week, the only face I’ve been able to sketch properly is Levi’s.

  His pale, slightly droopy eyes. The straight, high nose. The sharp jawline. The slight curve in his neck with the tendons and veins rippling. I didn’t even miss the small mole on his collarbone.

  Something is seriously wrong with me.

  I’m about to rip it when a shadow looms over me. My head snaps up, and I remove my earbuds at the same time. Super Massive Black Hole by Muse continues thumping low as I meet a senior’s gaze.

  He has messy brown hair and a buff physique, especially his shoulders and chest. His name is Jerry Huntington, if I remember correctly, and he’s part of the Rugby team.

  “Yes?” I ask, unsure why he’s approaching me.

  He smiles like a cartoon character. I’m sure he meant to woo me with it or something. In that case, epic fail.

  “The guys and I are going out for a beer, do want to join us?” he asks in a suggestive tone.

  “No, thanks.” I fling my backpack to the front and stuff my sketchpad and earbuds inside.

  “Come on, babe, you’ll like it.” I catch him licking his lips from the corner of my eyes. “I promise.”

  “I said no.” I try to speak as low as possible, hoping he’ll get the freaking hint and go away.

  It’s not that I’m not interested in boys, but athletes never appealed to me.

  Aside from my freaking muse, of course.

  I close the zipper of my backpack when his hand snags around my wrist. His voice turns threatening as he speaks, “I said you’ll like it. Don’t pretend like you’re hard to get, everyone knows you’re a little slut.”

  “That’s enough!” I push at him and attempt to yank my wrist. “Let me go.”

  He doesn’t. If anything, his grip tightens until my wrist hurts.

  I groan, my throat closing around the scream that’s bubbling to be set free. My face heats with exertion and even though I try to rein in my reaction, I can’t help the shivers of fear crowding my shoulders.

  For the love of Vikings, this can’t be happening again.

  One second, I’m trying to free myself from Jerry’s hold, the next, a large frame slams into Jerry’s bulk and pushes him straight to the concrete.

  I stare in stunned silence as Levi smashes Jerry to the ground. Although the rugby player is bigger, Levi doesn’t show a sign of backing off.

  He launches successive blows at Jerry’s face and abdomen like he’s a punching bag. It takes Jerry long seconds to gather his wits and hit back. He uses his upper bulk to push Levi into the ground and fixate him with a knee to his stomach before he punches him over and over again.

  Something twists in my chest at the constant slaps of flesh against flesh.

  But maybe it’s not because of the violence. Maybe this is because of something else.

  Nope. I’m not going there.

  Soon after, Levi takes the upper hand. Their view isn’t so clear with them rolling on the ground, wrestling to get the upper hand.

  I don’t have to see the blackness in Levi’s mood to feel it.

  It permeates the air like a suffocating, impenetrable smoke.

  He’s not only fighting Jerry, he’s out for blood.

  “Stop it!” I shout when I’m partially out of my stupor. “Stop!”

  Neither of them listens. If anything, their punches and grunts become more violent. At this rate, they’ll kill each other.

  My gaze strays both ways, looking for anything that will help in stopping the two bulls.

  When I find nothing, I put two fingers in my mouth and siffle loud.

  Jerry is the one who looks up first. Levi punches him in the face and stands up as his opponent falls to the ground.

  When the rugby player pushes to his feet, obviously ready for another round, I speak in a loud, clear tone. “I’ll call the principle.”

  “Fucking bitch,” Jerry mutters under his breath while dusting his trousers. “Can’t see what’s so special about her.”

  “What did you just say?” Levi is in his face in a second.

  Of course Levi doesn’t give a shit about the threat of the principle. I’m starting to learn that he doesn’t give two fucks about anything.

  I stride to them and place a hand on Levi’s shoulder. “Let him go, he’s not worth it.”

  Jerry gives a lopsided smirk that smears the blood from his lips over his teeth. “Listen to your slut, King.”

  Before I can see the gloom on Levi’s face, I feel it. No, I breathe it in the air.

  It’s there in the quick rise and fall of his chest. The clenching of his fists. The stiffness of his shoulders.

  I stare up at him and gulp audibly.

  His gaze is completely black.

  Dark.

  Deadly.

  It’s like he can kill Jerry and not feel an ounce of guilt about it.

  He starts to push me away, but I block his path so my back is to his front and I’m facing Jerry.

  “Isn’t your father Judge Huntington?” I ask in my coolest voice.

  “Good you know about that.” Jerry continues smirking and I gloat in the fact that I’m wiping it off. Once and for all.

  “I suggest you go home and ask your daddy about the money he embezzled from
the crown court. Because guess who has evidence? That would be my own daddy. Now, if I go home and tell him Judge Huntington’s loser son harassed me, who do you think will pay?”

  All Jerry’s smirks disappear and his face turns ashen. I bet he thinks no one knows about his father’s extracurricular activities. It’s not that Dad tells us these types of things, but I overheard a phone conversation the other day — when I was sneaking out. The information stayed with me, especially since the said judge has been appearing more and more on TV.

  Jerry casts a fearful glance at me before he curses and flees the scene.

  “Arsehole.” I turn around about to curse Levi, too, but I’m transfixed by the slow, but clear lighting of his eyes.

  The black has dissipated and is now replaced by his usual hooded expression.

  He’s jacket-less and tie-less. The first few buttons of his shirt are undone as if he couldn’t bother to do them. Under the lights, his tanned skin contrasts against the white shirt. Due to his fight with Jerry, he has dust all over him and two bruises against his cheek and collarbone. His right shoulder is drooping to the side like he can’t keep it upright.

  Even in his dishevelled state, he still looks every bit the gorgeous bastard.

  “For the record, I don’t need you to defend my honour,” I say with mock sarcasm and push past him to the exit.

  He winces.

  Walk away.

  Walk the hell away.

  “I don’t like it.” Levi’s voice stops me in my tracks.

  I slowly turn around to face him. “You don’t like what?”

  “When others touch you.”

  My lips part, not knowing how to respond to that.

  He takes the decision away when he strides in my direction and looms over me like a damn wall.

  “From today on, you won’t let anyone touch you.” He says the words like he has every right to.

  “Let me think about that...” I mock. “Decree denied, your majesty.”

  “Astrid,” he growls, his hand clasping around my arm. “You don’t want to fight me on this.”

  I’m momentarily stunned by the way my name rolls off his mouth in that slight raspy tone.

  It’s the first time he says my name, and there’s something disturbingly intimate about that.

  “As if I’m allowed to fight you on anything else?” I ask.

  “You are.”

  “I am?”

  He’s taken me by surprise too many times in one night, it’s starting to give me whiplash.

  Is this another game?

  His arm shoots forward and surrounds my waist in a steel hold. I don’t get to react as he yanks me towards him, flush against his chest.

  His hard muscles flatten my breasts and I can’t help the way they tighten against the material of my shirt and jacket.

  Both my hands push at his shoulders, even when my insides liquefy at his warmth.

  “Fight like that, princess.” He pushes my legs apart with one leg and settles his thigh between my sensitive ones until an unmistakable bulge pushes into the hollow of my stomach. “Do you see what your fight does to me?”

  Smothering heat flushes me from head to toe as I stare up at him with widened eyes.

  He’s... hard.

  For me.

  That bit of information throws me for a loop. A whooshing sensation tingles at the bottom of my stomach.

  “Levi…” it’s supposed to be a warning, but it comes out like a helpless moan. I lick my lips to try to smother it.

  “Fuck, princess.” His eyes spark with lust and that black look. “Stop doing that or I’m bending you over right here right now.”

  I want to think he wouldn’t do it, but this is Levi King. Impossible doesn’t exist in his dictionary.

  I attempt to push him away, but I freeze.

  Completely.

  Thoroughly.

  Levi crashes his lips against mine.

  His lips are on mine.

  He’s kissing me.

  I’m too stunned to react as his firm mouth takes claim of mine.

  His free hand wraps around my nape, keeping me completely at his mercy.

  My nails curl into his shirt as he moves his lips against mine. He’s not only kissing me, but he’s also demanding I kiss him back.

  “Open.” He nibbles on my bottom lip. “Up.”

  I keep my mouth into a thin line. On one hand, an unhinged part of me wants to let go and drown in the moment — even if I might die afterwards. On the other hand, the logical part can’t forget that this is freaking Levi King.

  The same King who’s been making my life hell.

  I hate the bastard. I shouldn’t be kissing him or even entertaining the idea.

  But a taste won’t hurt.

  Would it?

  “Open. The. Fuck. Up.” With each word, he bites down harder on my lip, sucking and pulling it between his teeth. I’m surprised he didn’t draw blood with his merciless tug.

  My mouth parts in a whimper.

  That’s all the opening his needs.

  Levi devours my mouth.

  He doesn’t ask for access, he barges right in like he always had a claim on this part of me. His hot, relentless tongue swirls around mine with animalistic urgency.

  I’m lost.

  Completely sucked in by everything Levi. The hard ridges of his chest. His strong, powerful hands. And his lips.

  Damn his lips.

  How the hell did I survive without kissing them before?

  Something at the back of my mind tells me this is wrong, but I tune it out.

  I’m floating in a foggy air as tingles run down my spine straight to my core. I’ve been kissed before, but never in my wildest dreams have I been devoured like he’s dying and I’m the only air he can breathe.

  My eyes flutter closed and I let myself fall, even knowing it’ll hurt when I hit the ground.

  But if this is wrong, then I don’t want anything to be right ever again.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Astrid

  The push isn’t painful, the fall is.

  * * *

  I sit in Levi’s car — the same car I vandalised. That should mean the sky will fall on the ground any second now.

  I’m still stunned from the kiss in the car park. I unknowingly find myself licking my lips as if I’m chasing the taste.

  The surreal feeling.

  The complete abandonment.

  It’s like an experience out of my own skin, and I still can’t wrap my head around it.

  As if that isn’t enough, Levi kidnapped me to his car saying that he’ll drive me home. He wasn’t hearing my half-attempts at reminding him that Dan is my ride. Then, the rain started pouring and he pushed me inside the Jaguar.

  Of course, someone like Levi drives a fast car. Everything about him is. Nothing goes slow when he’s around including my heartbeat, my thoughts, and my memories.

  And I’m licking my lips again. Dammit.

  I need a night’s sleep to think through whatever mess I’m in the middle of.

  It doesn’t matter whether I back off or not. Levi is the type who slams in head first just like he did with Jerry.

  The power from earlier still stifles the air like a potent aftertaste.

  Even now while driving, he has this constant, volatile energy that’s barely tucked under the surface. He’s like gasoline, waiting for a spark to erupt so he can leave ashes in his wake.

  I’m not sure whether I’m the spark or the ashes. Or both.

  “How did you learn to whistle that way?” he asks as we stop at a red light.

  He has his shirt’s sleeves rolled to his elbows and I can’t help gawking at his strong arms with veins and tendons rippling over his skin.

  I shake my head from the distraction. “Mum used to stop taxis that way and I picked up the habit.”

  “Did she teach you any other cool tricks like that?” He flashes me a charming grin.

  For the love of Vikings, can he stop
doing that?

  No wonder he has all the girls dropping their knickers — or to their knees — for him.

  I like to think I’m above being charmed, but thinking back to how I melted in his arms, my case doesn’t look so good.

  I stare through the window. “Mum taught me everything I know. My first sketch. My first bike ride. But most of all, she taught me not to kill my fire and to be myself.”

  “She never thought you’d end up in this plastic world, did she?”

  My head cocks his way. “How do you know I ended up in this world?”

  He winks. “I can find out anything I want, princess.”

  Ugh. The arrogant prick.

  “You don’t like the life you were thrown in, huh?”

  “What’s there to like?” My gaze gets lost in the lights and buildings being soaked by the rain. “Everyone here are copies of copies. It’s like they strive to be each other instead of their own selves. If anyone tries to rise above the norm, their heads will be chopped off.”

  Silence greets me, and I slightly tilt my head in Levi’s direction. I gulp at the intense look in his eyes as he watches me. It’s like a reappearance of the black Levi who beat Jerry to a pulp.

  Only now, violence doesn’t seem to be his driving force.

  It’s something much more unsettling and invasive that I feel it straight to my bones.

  Goosebumps erupt along my skin, and I’m sucking the air out of my lungs instead of breathing.

  There’s wickedness in the way Levi watches me. A promise. A damnation. And if I’m not lying to myself, there’s also a connection. Since that day I stopped and saw him in that party, there’s been an invisible line enchanting me towards him.

  I tried to push, I tried to pull, but the damn thing won’t break. He’s trapping me with his cruelty whether I like it or not.

  “Uh, did your mum teach you any cool tricks?” Way to go, Astrid. You sound like an idiot.

  I just had to fill the silence with something or I would’ve been sucked into his orbit.

  My question seems to have done the trick since he focuses back on the road. “My mother threw me at the step of my father’s house in the middle of the night when I was two days old then she ran away like a thief and never looked back.”