Shattered Legacy : A Dark Bully Romance (Gravestone Elite Book 1)

by Caitlyn Dare

  He's already shown that he means business. And he's already breaking the rules and long-written traditions in order to break me.

  He wants me to walk away. And I should, I do know that.

  I've got enough money sitting in a trust fund to up and leave this town—this country—and never look back.

  But that's not who I am.

  I'm a stubborn motherfucker, and Marcus has just laid down the challenge. I might have failed in Sterling Bay, I might have disappointed everyone, but I refuse to be that man again.

  I hated Cade Kingsley on sight, and now I understand why.

  If he wants a fight, then he's going to fucking well get one.

  He's seen nothing yet.

  I curl my fists, my knuckles splitting open and the muscles up my arms burning as I tense them. Cade might think he broke me last night, but he's about to learn that it takes a lot more than a brutal beating to take me down.

  I will not submit to him.

  Easton blood reigns supreme, and I intend on showing him so.

  Alex and I spend the rest of the weekend hibernating in my room while the worst of our injuries heal.

  We were half expecting a visit from our new rivals after we escaped from the basement. I find it hard to believe that after everything, they'd let us walk out like that. But they've made no attempt to come to us.

  By Monday morning, our cuts have scabbed over. Our bruising is as gruesome as ever, but it's time to show Gravestone that it will take more than Friday night to scare us off.

  Side by side, we walk toward our first class of the day. Heads turn in our direction as we walk, and students start gossiping. Some even go to the extreme of pointing us out.

  I learned from Marcus that most things about Quinctus are hidden from the wide population. Families of the verus bloodline know some things and are welcomed to some of the ceremonies. But it's only founding families who know everything.

  I can't believe they're showing their faces.

  I heard Cade is after blood.

  Did you see the way he went down? Fucking pussy.

  Look at them, walking here like they suddenly own the place. They're nothing. No one.

  Alex growls beside me as the gossip filters to us as we make our way down the hallway.

  "Ignore them," I whisper.

  He might still have been the same Alex over the past two days, but since talking to his mom yesterday morning, I've seen a darker side to him. He's suddenly harboring anger that I don't think he's ever experienced before, and he has no idea how to deal with it.

  I should know, because I’ve been there. Hell, I’m still there.

  My steps falter as Cade, Ashton, Brandon, Channing, and Tim appear at the other end of the hallway.

  A ripple of anticipation flows through the students lining the walls.

  My heart pounds in my chest as my eyes lock with Cade's. Fury bubbles up inside me, pulling my muscles tight, and it only becomes worse when he pulls Mia into his side and places his lips to the top of her head.

  "Bex," Alex warns. "Play nice. We've got a plan, remember?"

  Fuck our plan. I'm going to take his fucking head off.

  14

  Mia

  The second I see Bexley enter the room, I try to catch his eye. My stomach flutters, waiting for the moment he spots me. But the hope in my chest withers and dies when I see the anger swirling in his eyes. The hatred.

  He hates me.

  And I don’t blame him.

  But he doesn’t know everything.

  Steeling my spine, I lower my eyes to the empty desk beside me, but he walks right past my row and drops down in a seat a couple of rows in front.

  I let out a frustrated sigh. Students are still arriving, and the professor is nowhere to be seen yet, so without overthinking it, I grab my bag and hurry down the stairs. Bexley doesn’t even acknowledge me as I slide into the seat beside him. It’s a risky move. Anyone here could run back to Cade and tell him what I’ve been up to, but I have to do this.

  I have to make sure he’s okay.

  I tried earlier, sneaking into Bexley’s building. But he wasn’t there—that, or he ignored me.

  My stomach sinks. Maybe this was a bad idea.

  “Hi,” I whisper, keeping my eyes on the front of class.

  “You need to leave,” he grits out, shifting away from me. It stings, his dismissiveness, but what did I really expect?

  “I just wanted to make sure you were okay? I stopped by, but—"

  His hand shoots out and grabs my wrist under the table, squeezing until it hurts. Bexley pulls me closer but doesn’t look at me. “I said, you need to leave.”

  Tearing my hand away, I glower at him. “I’m not going anywhere. I came over here to ask you if you were okay. Is that such a crime?”

  His eyes finally lower to mine. Blown with rage, a low growl rumbles in his chest. “I’m going to fucking destroy your boyfriend.”

  “He’s not—" I press my lips together, swallowing my words.

  The class settles down, hushed conversations growing quieter as the professor enters the room.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t know he… he planned to do that.”

  Bexley’s brow lifts, suspicion glittering in his blue gaze. But he doesn’t say whatever is on his mind. Instead, he sneers, “Class is about to start. You should pay attention.”

  Class drags. Professor Lincoln spends fifty minutes talking about our first assignment, and Bexley spends fifty minutes ignoring me. A couple of times, he shifts in his seat, his jean-clad knee brushing mine, sending a thousand volts through me. I don’t know why he has such an effect on me. It’s like something shifted in me that night at the lake. I wanted Bexley. I wanted him to be the one to take my precious virginity. But it was more than that.

  For those few minutes or hours, I wanted to belong to someone—anyone—other than Cade Kingsley.

  Whether Bexley realizes it or not, that night entangled our lives in ways I’m not sure even I understand yet. All I know is, watching Cade and his friends beat the crap out of him hurt.

  It hurt me, made my heart ache in a way I didn’t expect.

  Professor Lincoln dismisses us, and Bexley shoves his notebook and pen into his backpack. His face is a patchwork of cuts and bruises, and before I know what I’m doing, I reach out to touch him.

  “Don’t.”

  The severity in his voice startles me, and I snatch my hand away, feeling the icy lick of rejection trickle down my spine.

  “You should go, little mouse,” he says so darkly, a shiver rolls through me. “You might not like what happens if you stick around.”

  “You don’t scare me, Bexley.” I tip my chin in defiance. “I know you think I screwed you over, but it isn’t like that. Surely, you know that now.”

  The room is emptying around us, but we stand there, locked in a silent war. Eventually, he breaks the tense silence, pushing his face into mine. “What I know is that you’re Kingsley’s… and I don’t want his sloppy seconds.”

  My breath hitches. I’m so stunned I do nothing as Bexley hops over the back of his chair and takes off toward the door.

  I file out of the classroom with the other stragglers, surprised to find Annabel waiting for me.

  “Hey, is everything okay? You didn’t tell me you’re in a class with Bexley Easton.”

  Just the very mention of his real name makes me wince.

  “I didn’t think it was important.” We lace our arms and head out of the building.

  “It wasn’t, until the party Friday. Can you believe it, an Easton heir? That’s some crazy shit.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I murmur, hoping she’ll drop it.

  “Shame about Alex, too.”

  “Is it?” My head whips around to her, and I notice the slight flush to her cheeks.

  “Bel?”

  “Yeah, he’s cute. We were talking at the party.”

  “And you never told me?”

  “Well, I was p
retty out of it.” She laughs, but it’s strangled.

  “You need to quit taking that stuff.”

  “What?” Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “It makes me feel good.”

  “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

  I have never really understood the fascination with drugs. Enough people seemed to be high on Friday night, Annabel and Sasha included. But I have no desire to be that out of control and unaware of my actions. Even watching Bexley getting beaten to a pulp. I’d felt every crack of Cade and Ashton’s knuckles… every crunch of bone… every grunt of pain. It was real, though. Real and raw and messy.

  And one day, it will be the ammunition I need to escape from Cade. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even the next day. But if he thinks for one second that I am just going to be some meek, docile prosapia willing to do his bidding, he is sorely mistaken.

  “Mia?” Annabel frowns and I blink at her. “Is everything okay?”

  “Sorry, I’m tired. I didn’t sleep well.”

  “Still stressed over this thing with Cade?”

  “Wouldn’t you be?” It comes out harsher than intended.

  “I… don’t know. I mean, it’s Cade.” She leans in, lowering her voice. “He’s practically one of the most powerful guys in Gravestone.”

  “I didn’t take you for some shallow—"

  “Mia, it’s not like that, and you know it.” Her tongue slips between her teeth. “All I’m saying is, is it so awful being with him?”

  Yes, yes it is, I want to scream. But I swallow the words.

  “I just want to carve my own path,” I say. “Is that too much to ask?”

  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 going to have so much fun,” he leans in, licking a line from my jaw to the shell of my ear, “devouring you.”

  “God, yes.” I tilt my head to the side, giving him more access. I’ve never been touched or talked to like his before. I know I’m not supposed to like it… but I do.

  And I want more.

  I want Bexley to make me forget. To make me feel.

 
; I want him to mark me as his own so Cade has no choice but to discard me.

  Suddenly though, Bexley tears away from me.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, my stomach sinking.

  But then something akin to hunger flashes in his baby blues, and a wicked smirk tugs at the corner of his smile. “Get on the bed, mouse,” he says darkly. “It’s time to play.”

  15

  Bexley

  “He can’t touch me. Not yet.”

  Her words repeat in my head over and over as she follows my demands and slides herself back onto her bed.

  Her pink lace bra is the only thing that's hiding her swollen breasts from me, and a pair of skinny jeans are wrapped around her hips and thighs as if they've been molded to her curves.

  She might be Cade's. But right now? She's mine.

  A wicked smile twitches at the corner of my mouth as I imagine being the first one to take her. To take away something that Cade is expecting to be able to claim as his.

  I only know the basics about this prosapia bullshit, but her needing to be a virgin for her chosen Electi is kind of obvious. In a world of chauvinistic assholes, why wouldn't they want their chosen women to only be with them while they stick it in anything that moves?

  Her chest heaves as she settles back on her elbows. She stares at me with wide, hungry eyes.

  I should walk away.

  I should turn around and take myself out of the middle of this situation which will probably only end with me receiving another beating like Friday night.

  But that's not what I'm going to do.

  I've wanted Mia since that night by the lake, and like fuck am I going to screw it up a second time, especially when I now know that it's going to fuck with Cade.

  That motherfucker needs taking down. Even more so now I know some of the truth from Marcus.

  And taking his girl? That's just step one in my plan to fuck him over until he has nothing left.