Shattered Legacy : A Dark Bully Romance (Gravestone Elite Book 1) by Caitlyn Dare (great novels of all time .txt) 📗

But as we approach the student union and silence settles over us, we both know the answer.

In a place like Gravestone, freedom is the worst thing you can ask for.

I manage to avoid Cade and the rest of the Electi for the remainder of the day. I want to believe that luck is on my side, but by my last class, I can’t help but wonder if they’re even in school today. I haven’t seen so much as a glimpse of them.

No text messages from Cade.

No narrowed stares from Ashton.

No remorseful smiles from Channing.

There’s been nothing, which only sets alarm bells ringing.

News about the fight at the party Friday has been travelling through campus quicker than wildfire. I see the way the outsiders watch Bexley, wondering what he did to piss off Cade. Of course, no one whispers the truth: that they were forced to partake in some archaic ritual called Caedes.

A small, derisive sound crawls up my throat as I approach my dorm building. It’s late, a little after six thirty, but I wanted to visit the library and get ahead on some course assignments. Something tells me if I want to survive freshman year as Cade’s prosapia, I’m going to need all the distractions I can get. And since I actually want to make something with my life, studying seems like the obvious choice.

A couple of girls give me a wide berth as I reach the dorm building. They watch me like a hawk, and I can practically hear their thoughts.

What does Cade see in her?

He could have anyone, yet he chose her.

Maybe she’s bribing him.

Maybe it’s a game.

“I bet she doesn’t know what to do with a guy like Cade. I heard he likes it rough,” I hear one of them whisper, and the two of them break out in fits of giggles.

I glance over my shoulder and arch a brow. “Sorry, did you need something?”

“I… we were just—"

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Shaking my head, I shoulder the door and slip inside.

I can take their whispers and stares. I have bigger problems to deal with.

By the time I reach my room, my skin tingles with irritation. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of it. But here I am, because I was born in some fucked-up town where your name and blood means more than your own dreams and desires.

Stomping inside, I drop my bag down by my desk and kick off my pumps while I switch on the lamp. My side of the building doesn’t get the sun, thanks to the huge cypress trees outside.

I begin stripping out of my tank top, but a trickle of awareness darts up my spine and I turn around, clutching the material to my chest.

“Don’t stop on my account, little mouse.” Bexley pushes off the wall and stalks toward me.

“W-what are you doing here?” I swallow hard, aware that I’m half naked and he’s… well, his eyes are so dark with anger. Or maybe it’s lust.

A bolt of desire shoots through me.

“We need to talk.” He grabs my arm and yanks me over to my bed. “Sit.” He shoves me down, and my shirt slips from my fingers, fluttering to the ground. I move to snatch it up, but Bexley beats me to it.

“Really?” I sneer.

“You said you came to see me. Why?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” I glance away, too affected by his presence, but Bexley grips my chin, yanking my face up to his.

“You were there, weren’t you?” He glares at me. “In the basement.”

“I—" My throat goes dry. He isn’t supposed to remember.

“You cleaned me up.”

“I tried,” I admit, the quiver in my voice betraying my attempt at confidence.

“What game are you playing?”

I let out an exasperated breath. “I’m not playing a game, Bexley. I’m as much a pawn as you.”

“But you’re his…”

I nod. He doesn’t let go of my chin, and I don’t want him to. Something crackles between us, the same thing I felt by the lake.

Bexley’s eyes drop to my lips, his tongue darting out and tasting his own as he runs his thumb over my skin. “Would he care, do you think? If I destroyed you… his precious prosapia.”

He spits the words like they’re acid in his mouth, and I flinch.

“I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“But here we are anyway.” He releases me sharply, and I instantly feel cold at the loss of his touch. Bexley glances at the wall, running a hand down his face

“What happened at the lake—"

“Don’t.” He pins me with a hard look. “What happened at the lake was a mistake.”

On shaky legs, I stand, putting us almost chest to chest. I can feel the heat radiating from Bexley’s body, see the harsh rise and fall of his chest as he tries to hold onto his control.

“It wasn’t a mistake, Bexley. You felt it too,” I whisper. “I know you did.”

His hand snaps out and grabs the back of my neck, anchoring my face right in front of his. His eyes burn into mine, searing my very soul.

“You’re his… you think I want to dip my end where that fucker has been?”

“He hasn’t… I’m not…” I swallow desperately. “He can’t touch me. Not yet.”

“No?” That piques his interest. Bexley studies me for a second, time ticking by in a painfully slow fashion.

“So he hasn’t felt you here?” His hand drops from my neck and skims down my spine to the curve of my ass. He grabs a handful and squeezes.

“No,” I press my lips together, fighting the urge to moan. My heart is a runaway train in my chest as lust clouds my thoughts.

“And here?” Bexley skims his other hand up the flat of my stomach, toying with the shell of my pale pink bra.

“Never.” A soft moan slips from my lips as his thumb rolls over my nipple.

“You want more?” It’s a gravelly challenge.

A small nod has Bexley groaning.

“You’re a bad girl, little mouse. And I’m