Ravage, Lacey Andersen [golden son ebook .txt] 📗

Rayne had to be smarter than that. With a father as a dark fae, he had to know that saying such blasphemy would only get him into trouble.

“Why would he ever do something like that?”

She runs her fingers over a few stray hairs, and the pieces seem to float for a minute before she answers. “I thought you’d know better than me.”

“I should know,” I say, my voice strangely bitter, “but apparently I didn’t know my brother half as well as I--”

I hear the door open and stop talking a second too late. A man enters the room. His hair is golden and flows down his shoulders in a way most women would envy. His cheekbones are high, and his forehead is high. All things that should make him handsome, by traditional standards, and yet he feels too feminine for some reason. Almost delicate.

When his gaze meets mine, he looks startled. “Who are you?”

“Esmeray.”

His eyes narrow. “A Bloodmore.”

“Yes.”

“And who were you talking to, alone, Lady Bloodmore?”

“Myself,” I answer without hesitation.

He leaves the door open and enters the room, setting some folders and papers down on a desk. Every movement he makes is irritated. Unable to help myself, I reach out with my powers. Within this man, I taste anger, resentment, and even jealousy. I start to feast on his negative emotions, drawing them in slowly. Sometimes powerful fae can feel when they’re being fed on, and the last thing I wanted was for this professor to know I could feed on his dark emotions.

Then hiding the fact that I was a dark fae would be impossible.

He looks up again, his gaze meeting mine, and suddenly all his emotions are sealed away. “Why do you hide your emotions from me?”

“Why do you hide yours from me?” I counter right back.

His lip curls, and he plants his hands firmly on the top of his desk. “Listen here, Bloodmore, your brother was a troublemaker, and you saw where that behavior got him. If you want to do better, I suggest you don’t follow in his footsteps.”

“Is that a threat?”

He smirks and turns away, grabbing a piece of chalk and starting to write on the board. “No, my dear, light fae don’t threaten people.”

I don’t miss the way he says light fae, like he doesn’t believe for one second that I am one. Not that he isn’t right, but I don’t exactly appreciate his arrogance, or his tone.

I’m about to say more, when a group of fae women enter the room, giggling and chatting. They don’t even notice me as they walk in, but one woman flips on the light, and they all sit at the four seats near the door. Two men enter next, and they look tired as hell, but when their gazes land on me, they freeze.

Lifting a brow, I dare them to approach me. Smartly so, they pick two seats in the front and sit down. But both glance back at me several times, not exactly subtly either.

Spreading my senses out, I sense only positivity radiating from all of them. I sigh and close myself off again. All this happiness and excitement makes my stomach turn.

The room fills up, and I stare out the window, finding it hard to care. Outside I see part of the courtyard, the big trees, the neatly trimmed grass, and wildflowers. All the brightness and cheer makes me miss my monsters, my graveyard, and my home even more.

“Hey.”

I stiffen and turn at the sound of the deep, familiar voice. A big man sits down in the chair beside me, and it can be only Bron. His presence beside me overwhelms my senses, namely because I stretch them out and find that wall of his firmly in place. Which is kind of nice with all the gushing emotions from around the room. He runs his fingers through his messy, light brown hair, and those hazel eyes of his seem to pin me to the chair. An urge to stroke my hands down the hard lines of his chest overwhelms me, and I have to turn away, so he can’t see the desire I know must be written so plainly on my face.

“I didn’t know you were in Fae Weaknesses with me.”

It takes me a minute to swallow around the lump in my throat. “Yeah, well, we haven’t exactly chatted a lot lately.”

He lets out a rush of breath. “Sorry. We wanted to stay longer at the funeral, but--”

“And before the funeral?” I challenge, locking gazes with him again.

He looks away, grabbing a notebook and a pencil from his bag. “We got busy at the academy.”

“Too busy for a call?”

“Esmeray…”

“Got it,” I say, then cross my arms in front of my chest and glance at the front.

“That’s not…there was a lot--”

A bell rings, echoing through the room. The professor goes to the door, locks it, and closes it. A second later a student stands at the door. I can see their desperate face in the window. The professor turns away from the door, ignoring him like the pompous ass he’s already proved himself to be.

“Welcome to Fae Weaknesses. For our one new student, my name is Professor Ericson. Important things to note. Class begins when the bell rings. Not five minutes later. Not two minutes later. Right when the bell rings. If you’re late, don’t bother coming at all.”

I almost salute him as he glares in my direction, but instead I slump back in my chair, giving my best I don’t give a shit what your pompous ass has to say about anything attitude. And even though I have a wall around my emotions, the bastard’s glare deepens, as if my body language is loud enough for both of us to know what I’m feeling.

“Today’s lesson was going to be on magic spells, but I have a better idea.” He’s still looking in my direction, causing half the class to look back at me. “We’re going to learn about iron.”

I keep my reaction carefully hidden. Iron hurts