Kings of Mercia Academy 1-4: The Complete Bully Romance

by Sofia Daniel

  Blake caught up in a few long strides. “You’re not over us. I can tell by the way you stare.”

  Relief lightened the tight hand of panic around my lungs. He hadn’t noticed the cameras, after all. I exhaled a long breath before the offense in his words reached me with a hard slap. I stopped walking and turned around. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  He advanced on me, arrogant smirk in full force. It was the kind of lazy, confident smile a guy made when he already knew a girl was hot for him, and he was just waiting to hear her say the words. “You want a relationship with the three of us, but you don’t know how to get on your hands and knees to grovel.”

  “Are you smoking crack, or do you usually hallucinate that people are looking at you? I shoved the door open and rushed through the hallway.

  Blake overtook me and stood on the first steps of the staircase, blocking my way. “Why did you return if it wasn’t to rekindle our old flame?”

  I made a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn and stormed through the reception hallway, out of the double doors and into the cold morning. Blake followed after me, keeping up with my fast strides. I shot him a filthy glare. “If you must know, my stepfather gave me the choice of Mercia or military school. But now you’re making me think I made the wrong decision.”

  The wind blew over the lawn that stretched between Elder House and the other buildings, and I sucked in a deep breath of bracing air. Although I was glad that Blake hadn’t caught me with the camera, a pit of hatred opened up in my belly. He had only made the insulting overtures because he’d heard about the report of my supposed engagement. Now, he and the triumvirate would do anything to sabotage my fake progress with Sergei.

  “I think you’re lying,” said Blake.

  At the far left of the campus stood the academy tuck shop, a cafe that served hot and cold snacks. Wrapping my arms around my middle to protect from the cold, I headed left.

  Blake kept up with my steps, staring into my face as though he had a right to question me about my relationship choices. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

  I kept my eyes on the small building at the end of the gravel walkway. “Believe what you want, but I’m not here for you. Things are going well with Sergei, and I’m happy.”

  He stopped. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?” I glared at him over my shoulder.

  “Happy.”

  I rolled my eyes and continued walking. Predictably, he followed after me. A glow of triumph warmed my insides. Whoever had the idea to publish details of a fake engagement was a genius. The triumvirate were so malevolent, they were moving in to sabotage my happiness by sending Blake over to make a flirty overture.

  “That evening in the new house, when it was you and Henry and me,” Blake’s voice became low and seductive. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it, because you did. It was the hottest night of your life, and you know it.”

  “I drank too much champagne that day,” I inspected my nails. “It’s all one blur, now.”

  “Liar. I’ll bet you think about it all the time.” His smoky voice curled around my eardrums, making my spine tingle. “I imagine you relive that experience every time you touch yourself. I know that’s my go-to fantasy.”

  “You’re disgusting,” I spat.

  “But you like it.” Blake stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “I don’t care if Sergei Bachmann has the fingers of a pianist. He has only two hands, and we have six. Do you know what else you can get from three men?”

  “Two extra people to betray you when you try to help.” I shoved him aside and continued toward the tuck shop.

  A group of passing third-year girls giggled and scurried away. I stared after them, envying their simple lives.

  Blake raised his palms. “That business had nothing to do with me.”

  “Are you throwing Henry under the bus, now?” I picked up my pace, feet stamping on the gravel.

  “Throwing?” He shook his head and continued after me. “Why take second best when you can have us?”

  I flared my nostrils and twisted my features to look hurt and offended. It wasn’t a stretch, because they really had hurt me. The triumvirate had only cared about themselves and had used me as their sacrificial lamb. If it wasn’t for my revenge plan, I would never have returned.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I asked.

  “We’ll take you back into the fold.”

  I stopped, eyes wide. “What?”

  Blake was no longer smirking. “But you’ll have to break things off with the pianist.”

  Loud techno music boomed out of a building on our right. While it was of a similar architectural style of Elder House, wet laundry and plastic bags containing groceries hung out of the windows. It was as if this particular house didn’t have a master or anyone tasked to keep the students under control. “What is this place?”

  “International House.”

  “Are they celebrating something?” I eyed a scruffy young man who stared out of a ground floor window. He was probably a janitor.

  Blake stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and shrugged. “It’s been like this ever since they occupied the building.”

  “I didn’t notice them last term.”

  “That’s because they only joined the academy in January.”

  My brows furrowed. Why would bullies target people doing their best to fit in, like Rita and me, and not rise up against those who turned the campus into an eyesore? If I had hung wet laundry out of the window, a mob would bay for my blood, but these students showed no respect for their building.

  “Who are they?” I asked.

  “That’s a question best left unanswered.” Blake turned around and strolled back toward Elder house.

  I bit down on the inside of my cheek. This was certainly a subject I would raise with Jackie. If Rudolph was looking for an angle to avenge himself on the headmaster, there might be something in International House that could bring down the school.

  Chapter 5

  I sat in the tuck shop, nursing a cup of coffee. Blake’s offer left me with a mix of conflicting feelings. The triumph of finally getting their attention was overshadowed by disgust. He’d only approached me after learning that Sergei had proposed. The usual anger that stuck in my craw whenever I thought of the triumvirate rose, and I tried to push it down when the server gave me a funny look for scowling into my teacup. I focused instead on making my plan come together.

  To break the triumvirate, I needed to do it from the inside. But the invitation left a taste in my mouth more bitter than the coffee. I added a spoon of sugar to my drink and took another sip.

  A couple of third years entered the shop, and the boy asked the girl what he could get her to drink. From the blush that rose on both their cheeks and her nervous answer, I guessed they were on a first date. Despite the fact the two had probably called me trollop at some time, I hoped things would work out okay for them. They certainly seemed happy with each other as they sat at a table towards the back of the room. But looks could be deceiving.

  The triumvirate were a trojan horse, dressed up in ribbons and pretty promises but inside was a trio of boys who would stick the knife through my back. Again. They sought to take away what they thought was a promising relationship and leave me distraught, just as I had been last term.

  The next day, I took a stroll through the campus and headed toward International House. On the flowerbeds outside the building grew a clump of snowdrops through the frost, and I pulled out my cameraphone to take a picture.

  “Look who it is,” said a nasal voice. “The trollop.”

  I glared up. Edward and Patricia stood over me. My face twisted into a mask of annoyance. “What do you want?”

  “To welcome you back to Mercia Academy, of course.” Patricia wrapped both arms around Edward’s bicep. “We should arrange a welcoming party. It’s only fair, after all the effort we went to send her off.”

  My throat thickened, and I met Edward’s wintry blue e
yes. He stared down his perfect, straight nose at me, lips thinned into a grim line. Mahogany hair hung loose around his face, softening his stern features. Wasn’t framing me for the kidnapping enough for him? All this time, I’d thought Charlotte had arranged the gauntlet with Mr. Carbuncle.

  Edward’s brows lowered into a scowl. “That was not my doing.”

  “No, but you didn’t object,” Patricia murmured.

  He pulled his arm out of her grasp and stepped away. “Nobody could have guessed you would take your spite so far.”

  I straightened and placed the smartphone back in my pocket. Facing Edward like this was bad enough, but hearing this poor excuse for a doppelgänger brag about humiliating me was more than I could stand. “Excuse me, while I get some fresh air.”

  Patricia spluttered. “We’re outside, you trollop. Are you trying to say I stink? Because there’s only one person around here who—”

  “You’re tiresome,” Edward snapped.

  She reared back. “What?”

  I continued toward International House, leaving them to argue amongst themselves. If Edward wanted to approach me, he could do so without a bitchy sycophant hanging off his arm like an overgrown leech. My feet skidded over the frost, so I slowed my steps, making sure to study the building that had fallen to disrepute. The strains of a cheesy techno tune drowned out Patricia’s screechy voice, but it was clear from the pitch that she was unhappy about whatever he’d said to her.

  “Emilia!” said Edward from several feet away.

  I stopped and gazed into a window, where a group of smoking students sat in a room, watching television. “What?”

  “I wanted to apologize for Patricia,” he said.

  “For what she said to me, the little send-off she organized last term, or her entire existence?”

  His sapphire blue eyes twinkled, and his full lips quirked into a smile. “All of it, really.”

  “I find that hard to believe, since she’s your girlfriend.”

  “Was.” He shook his head. “It was never serious between us. She was just…”

  “Convenient?” I placed my hands on my hips.

  He turned his head. “I wouldn’t put it quite so callously.” After a moment’s pause, he said, “Have you made your decision yet about what Blake proposed?”

  “The answer is no.” I headed back toward Elder House, stomping so hard, the ice crushed beneath my loafers. “I’m happy with Sergei. A musician who earns money from playing the piano isn’t likely to frame me for his crimes.”

  Edward walked at my side with a silence that stretched so long, it made my stomach writhe with nerves. Tiny shards of ice blew in the wind, freezing the top layer of my skin. If I agreed to go back to them so quickly, they would be suspicious. I had to put up some resistance for them to overcome, so it would feel like they had the upper hand.

  “Are you sure about this fellow?” he said at last. “What do you really know about him?”

  “He’s talented, handsome, and has a good heart. That’s more than I can say about some of the men around here.” I dodged a falling cigarette butt thrown by someone out of an open window.

  Edward acted as though I hadn’t replied. “I’m concerned you’re jumping into a relationship before you’re ready.”

  “Really,” I drawled. “You said the same thing last term, and look where that got me.”

  I could have sworn he snorted a laugh, but the sound was over so quickly, I missed it. Not that it mattered. Edward and Blake were both full of shit and just wanted to break up my fake relationship, toy with me for a few weeks, before getting me expelled again and thrown out in disgrace.

  At last, we reached Elder House, and I climbed the stone steps leading to its double doors. As soon as I stepped into the reception hall, the warm scent of burning pine engulfed my senses, making me inhale the sweet air. I turned to Edward. “Thanks for the unsolicited escort. While I enjoy a good stalking as much as the next girl, I can handle the rest of the journey from here.”

  “Actually, I have something to show you.” He swept his arm toward the common room at the end of the corridor. “It’s this way.”

  My heart pounded hard against my ribcage. Had he found the cameras I’d hidden in my bag of sanitary pads? A shuddering breath escaped my lungs. Blake hadn’t mentioned catching me with recording devices, but he wasn’t the type to broadcast his schemes. My gaze darted to the staircase, but running away would only postpone the problem. I followed him down the hallway and swallowed hard. But instead of going straight on when we passed Mr. Jenkins’ office, he turned right and opened a door.

  “What’s this?”

  The door led to a study with burgundy, Chesterfield sofas and a huge, mahogany desk topped with leather. Logs burned and crackled in the fireplace, filling the room with heat. Blake and Henry strode toward us from different sides of the room, each wearing lightweight shirts, open at the neck. My throat dried. Was this an ambush?

  Edward placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me through the threshold of the study, letting the door click shut behind him.

  I scowled. “What are you doing?”

  Henry strode toward me and placed both hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry for what happened last term. You were only trying to help.”

  “I told you to tell her everything.” Blake said without inflection. Perhaps this was the expression he used when rehearsing a line.

  “We’ve fought about this countless times,” added Edward with an exaggerated frown. “Let’s focus on making up with Emilia.”

  I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek. This sounded so scripted. They probably had a game plan for building up my trust and then shattering my spirits with a betrayal even greater than the one they had dished out in the previous term.

  “We shouldn’t keep arguing,” Henry said to Edward. He turned to me, green eyes shining with earnestness. “Nothing has been right between the three of us since the headmaster locked you up.”

  “Right…” I would have laughed at his pathetic attempt to blame someone else for his actions if this new attempt to double-cross me again wasn’t so transparent.

  Blake stepped forward, his gaze lingering on my breasts. “Is there anything we can say… Anything we can do to convince you we’re sorry?”

  “Anything.” Edward stepped closer, meeting my eyes.

  Henry advanced on me, his gaze locked on my lips. “Anything.”

  The atmosphere in the room took on a charge that made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge and made the pulse between my legs twitch. I knew an indecent proposal when I heard one, and the triumvirate seemed willing to perform any act to prove their sincerity.

  Squeezing together my trembling legs, I pointed at the Persian rug. “The three of you can go down on your knees.”

  When Edward turned away and walked to the window, I asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Securing a level of privacy.” He flashed me a smile over his shoulder. “If you want us to grovel, we will. But first, I’ll shut the curtains.”

  Henry got down on his knees in front of me, and Blake knelt beside him. The pair stared up at me with wide-eyed, furrowed brows, and pleading expressions designed to melt a girl’s heart. Blake shuffled forward, making me back into an armchair. “Would you like to sit and make yourself comfortable?”

  I lowered myself into the leather seat and pointed out my loafer. “Kiss my feet.”

  Blake grinned and cradled my right ankle in his hands. The movement sent a jolt of pleasure up my leg. He slipped off my loafer and stared down at my stockinged foot. “How can I carry out my penance when you’re all covered up?”

  A tingle meandered up my spine. “Y-you don’t have to.”

  “I insist,” he said, voice husky.

  Henry took my other leg, slipped off my shoe, placed my foot on his thigh, and swiped both hands from my toes to my ankles. His strong fingers caressed my flesh, making my insides squirm pleasantly, and memories of the
night he had massaged my belly resurfaced. “You’re stiff,” he murmured. “Allow us to ease your tension.”

  I bit down hard on my lip and groaned. This is the point where I should tell them to go to hell and stop trying to take control, but this was how I would get them to trust me so I could learn enough of their secrets to bury them. I had to make it seem like they were manipulating me. Sensations rippled up my legs from their touches, and I clenched my core muscles and huffed out a breath.

  The triumvirate had worked out a weakness I didn’t even know I had. Having them both at my feet, both attentive and ready to give me pleasure made the pulse between my legs pound with need.

  “Will you let me take off those tights?” asked Blake.

  “Oh!” I panted. This wasn’t fair. With a few deft movements, they’d broken through my defenses. The worst part was that they were doing exactly what I’d asked. I lifted my hips off the leather armchair and eased my thick tights down to the tops my thighs.

  Blake chuckled, the sound low and deep. “Now, may we atone?”

  Henry grinned. “Let us.”

  When I gave them the tiniest of nods, each took their time in pulling down my tights. Henry caressed each inch of flesh he exposed, while Blake kissed it. Edward pulled the last set of curtains closed, plunging the room into semi-darkness. Any inhibitions I had evaporated, and my muscles turned to mush.

  While Henry worshipped my left foot with his fingers and thumbs, Blake kissed and nibbled and licked a path from my toes, past my ankle, and up my calves.

  Pleasure trickled up my thighs and gathered between my legs, making me bite down on my lip to suppress a groan. This wasn’t the reunion I’d expected, but I couldn’t complain.

  With strong, firm fingers, Edward kneaded the stiff knots out of my shoulders, making my head loll to one side. I closed my eyes, marveling at the attention of the three males. Henry’s mouth engulfed my toes, and the low, ecstatic groans he made as he sucked them caused the muscles of my core to ripple. Blake wedged my leg open and lapped at a sensitive spot in the corner of my knee. His heavy breathing, in synch with my own panting breaths, broadcasted his arousal.