by LJ Swallow
Ravenhold: Magic Forged
L J Swallow
Copyright © 2021 by L J Swallow
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Other Books By LJ Swallow
About the Author
Chapter One
ELOISE
I’m the Trinity witch and a necromancer. I shouldn’t be afraid of the dark, because what could hide in the shadows capable of hurting me?
Zeke.
Ethan.
Dorian.
But are any of them on the island with me?
Still, I run from the voice in the shadows.
Whoever told me to run doesn’t follow, and I shiver as the damp Scottish air sticks to my skin and the wind blows through my hair. I’d wondered what the island looked like outside the academy, but never wanted this close an inspection.
I obey the voice that told me to run and sprint in the opposite direction. My knees scrape on rock as I trip in the dark, and my palms sting from breaking my fall. I pull a stick from my hair and look at the small item in my shaking hands.
Who called my name and why did they tell me to run?
The half-moon attempts to shine through the clouds, but the grey sky suffocates the moon and starlight. I shiver again and wrap my arms around myself.
I shelter in a craggy outcrop and the sea crashes around me; this watery barrier to my freedom is barely visible in the black night and I watch the water spill against the rocks.
Have people tried to escape Ravenhold before? How many has the sea taken?
Unable to hear anything but the wind in my ears, I slump to the hard ground and hug my knees to my chest. I knew Ravenhold was hell, but never expected the staff to be more corrupt than the students. Francesca and Marcus—the Confederacy. Angus? Is he involved?
How can I fight for the right side if there isn’t one?
I touch my neck—uninjured—although I was a heartbeat from allowing Dorian to take my blood. What would’ve happened if I’d allowed him to?
So many questions.
So few answers.
A flame flickers in my palm again as I use my weak magic to conjure the fire, torn between wanting to create warmth and the risk somebody may see me. This is crazy. Am I experiencing a punishment that will force me to obey orders when I’m retrieved, or is this where they leave me to die?
I dig my fingers into the squelching mud nearby and paint protection runes around me, the way I did my first night at Ravenhold. My magic worked well enough that night, and only when the runes faintly glow do I relax and tumble into an exhausted sleep.
I wake cold and hungry with a clearer view of the lead-coloured sea close by. When I step from my shelter, the perpetual drizzle dampens my hair and clothes, as the sky remains grey and the sun hidden as usual. The academy building pushes up from the rocks behind me and I consider making my way back, amusing myself with the thought of wandering through the entrance and passing the mids as if I’ve taken a morning stroll. I doubt I’d get that far without something happening to me.
At least in the light, I’ve more chance I’ll spot who else is around the island, but I’ve no idea how to survive in the wilds alone. The island isn’t exactly abundant with plant and animal life.
I carefully negotiate my way back down the rocks and into the sparse trees below.
“If they wanted to kill me, why send a necromancer onto the island?” asks a hoarse voice.
I jerk and spin around, as the magic tingles towards my fingertips and faint flames appear.
“Especially one who has the hots for me,” continues Zeke and points at my hands. “Literally.”
My heart leaps as I see him resting against a tree. His face and hair are streaked with mud and he’s wearing the same clothes as last night, although they’re torn. As I approach, I notice his eyes are more feline than before and the stripes on his arms more prominent.
He watches me as I stumble across to him and try to summon a response. Zeke grabs my arm and pulls me to him before cupping my chin in his hand and gazing with his strange eyes. “What the fuck happened?”
“You lost control and—"
“I know that. What about you? What did you do to earn yourself a trip out here?”
“I almost gave my blood to Dorian,” I whisper and his eyes flash. “Zeke. The academy—they’re causing students to die, and they want us to kill each other.”
“And you thought Dorian’s blood would help you kill me?” he says, voice midway between shock and anger.
“No! Marcus wanted me to kill Dorian. The Confederacy want us to work for them—who else do they want us to kill?”
Zeke shakes his head. “If that’s true, why throw you onto the island?”
“Because I was prepared to let Dorian take my blood. We’re dangerous together. What if I don’t survive out here?” My lip trembles and I swallow. I will not break down and cry.
“We’ll figure something out,” says Zeke with a smile, revealing sharper than usual canines.
“Did you shift?” I whisper.
He nods. “Yeah. So, I can always shift again and catch us a mouse or rabbit if we get hungry.”
I smile weakly at his joke. “And I’ll create a fire to cook with.”
“Perfect!” He chuckles but his eyes shadow. “I don’t know what the fuck is happening, but they won’t beat us, Eloise.”
As he strokes my hair and I wrap my arms around his chest, happy to not only find Zeke, but a Zeke who isn’t primed to kill me.
Chapter Two
DORIAN
Well, the fuckers can’t kill me, or I wouldn’t be sitting in this shitty room.
I’m pissed off that Ethan and Marcus interrupted my little ‘moment’ with Eloise, otherwise I’d be ripping the whole fucking place apart, not stuck in the cellars.
I snort to myself. If the academy thought solitary could hold me, they would’ve stuck me here before. Now they know Francesca triggered my abilities, they’ve no hope in defeating me.
What happened to Eloise? And Ethan? That arsehole could’ve knocked the two mids into next week and helped. Why didn’t he? Zeke might already be dead, but I only care what happened to Eloise.
Care.
/> Do I?
Whatever sparked between us is fucking intense. She wants my power as much as I desire her blood, which makes for a winning combination. I’ve fucked plenty of witches and know what high that brings, especially when tasting their blood, but what would Eloise be like? I’ve considered that far too much since we first met, pissed off when Ethan started hitting on her. Sure, the pair may plot against me, but they’d never take me down.
And Eloise doesn’t want to.
I huff and kick out at the exposed grey brickwork. I’m not a dumb guy, which means stuck in here with nothing to do is driving me more insane than they already think I am.
“You do know I’ve too much time to plan my next move if you leave me here?” I call out to nobody in particular. “Your Confederacy and Dominion are fucked.”
People don’t know whether my bragging about my potency is bravado or truth. Well, they’ll learn that they can subdue me, but not neuter me.
I haven’t slept. I don’t often, and Eloise has filled my mind for hours; she doesn’t understand how close I came to taking her blood before she said ‘yes’. She’s fortunate I didn’t want to kill her once I realised Ravenhold’s plans. They’re obvious—get the Trinity witch to kill the dangerous hybrid and create a creature under her control.
Not much scares me, but that possibility does.
But I have an advantage. I thought Eloise hated me, but the attraction between us can’t be denied. She’s as captivated by me as any other witch would be.
The problem is, I’m drawn in by her. Is this a desperation to take Eloise’s blood or more? Hell, between us, we could rule the goddamn world.
The other problem? Zeke and Ethan, although Zeke may be gone after his ripping performance in the dining hall. Ethan looked under Marcus’s control. I blow air into my cheeks. Perhaps they’re both Confederacy pets now.
I can guarantee they won’t take me or Eloise.
I’m leaving this fucking place with or without her.
Chapter Three
ELOISE
The drizzle becomes rain, and my attempt at lighting a fire fails as the flames flatten along with my hair. I’m soaked and the chilly weather burrows cold to my bones. I trudge around the island with Zeke until exhaustion overtakes me and I sink onto a nearby rock.
Zeke pauses and looks down. “You look hungry. Are you sure you don’t want me to catch you a couple of mice?”
I can’t laugh at his joke, because I’m dizzy and defeated. Zeke’s dark T-shirt is soaked by the rain but the water rolls off his skin.
“Why are we here?” I ask weakly.
He shrugs. “Punishment? If we’re valuable, they won’t leave us out here to die.”
“But who are ‘they’?” I ask. “The Confederacy? Yes, they want us, but you’re out of control, and our families want us to kill each other. If our families are the ones who orchestrated our exile on the island, maybe they will leave us to die.”
Zeke crouches in front of me and tips my chin with his long fingers. “That will never happen. I told you from the day you arrived that I’d protect you.”
His bronze eyes shine and his fingernails are sharp against my chin. I grab his hands. “You have claws.”
“Shifter. Remember?”
I moisten my lips. “Have you become a mid?”
He smiles as he examines the tips of hidden black claws. “No. I’m old enough to shift now; I’m choosing to remain ready.”
Ready?
As he stands, I take a closer look at him. Apart from his claws, the stripes I noticed are deeper. Zeke laughs at my scrutiny and bares his teeth, revealing sharper, longer canines.
Whoa.
“I’d best not upset you,” I say jokingly.
Zeke holds out a hand and pulls me to my feet. “I healed you, Eloise. I don’t go through that pain for just anybody.”
Our position outside the academy changed something between us, and the change becomes tangible as he gently rubs his finger across my lips. “How did healing hurt you?” I whisper.
His eyes zone in on my mouth and he licks raindrops from his. “We need shelter or you’ll catch your death. Metaphorically speaking.”
Zeke drops my chin and turns away, holding his arm behind him, hand outstretched.
The change isn’t only between us. Away from his friends, outside the academy, Zeke’s attitude has shifted as much as he physically did yesterday.
My stomach growls again as I stumble into a small cave at the bottom of the cliff face and weathered by the sea. The space is wide but short and offers no real protection. I sink to the floor and stare out at the waves churning onto the pebbled beach, closer than ever before, taunting me.
“I could fucking swim across that if I had all my abilities,” snarls Zeke.
I nod and my shivering moves to my face as my teeth chatter.
“Shit, Eloise.” He sits beside me. “Take your clothes off.”
“What?” I ask weakly.
Zeke grins. “I know, this is exactly what I asked you to do last time you needed my help, but I never touched you, did I?”
I blink at him as he drags his damp shirt over his head. I’m shocked again by the white scarring covering his skin; will he ever tell me about his past? If I weren’t shivering with cold, I might appreciate the sculpted body more. He may not be as large as Ethan, but there’s power in his muscles as they move in his shoulders, and I couldn’t pick who’d win in a fight.
Zeke takes my hand and places it against the circular tattoo, and his heat surprises me. “Are you sick?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Shifter heat.”
Like Ethan.
I peel my sodden shirt off and drop it to one side. Zeke stares at my breasts covered by the thin cotton bra, then lifts his eyes to mine. He pulls an apologetic face. “Sorry. Male. Shifter. Animal.”
I swallow at the last word and wipe rain from my face. “It’s okay. Let me see what I can conjure up.”
My hands are damp, and I outstretch them as I focus on creating fire, but however hard I try, I can only produce the tiniest spark. Frustrated tears push at my eyes. Maybe I should give in to the tears, because if I cry, Zeke wouldn’t know if it were tears or rain. “I’m too weak.”
“Don’t stress. We’ll be okay.” Zeke pulls his jeans off and I stare again, relieved he has boxers on. My jeans have become a second, unpleasant skin and I steady myself on the small cavern wall as I stand and attempt to drag them down my legs. Zeke bites his lip as he watches me struggle, then moves to hook his fingers into the half-removed jeans.
“I imagined undressing you a few times, but not like this,” he says as we both work on removing them. “Hell, you’re cold.”
I shiver as his hands trail along my skin as he helps undress me, but my skin is numb from cold and this dulls his touch.
“I’m not taking anything else off,” I warn him.
He looks genuinely hurt. “I wouldn’t take advantage, Eloise. You’re safe with me.”
Zeke sits and holds his arms out, so I sit and wriggle closer, allowing him to wrap them around me. He shuffles back to rest against the cavern’s back wall and I curl up as he hugs me tighter. He’s as warm as an electric blanket and in places as soft as one. I touch the arm around me and feel a light downy hair amongst his stripes.
My stomach growls again.
“I should try to get back into the academy,” he says and rests his chin on the top of my head. “Screw the guards and whoever put us here.”
“No. Don’t leave me,” I say. “We don’t know what else is on the island.”
“You’re weak and can’t survive without food and water.” He hugs me closer. “I can already feel you fading.”
“I’m not,” I protest.
“I don’t understand what the bastards are doing to us—you.” He threads fingers through my damp, tangled hair. “Unless they want me to tear someone apart, because I’m angry at how they’ve hurt you.”
“It’s been less
than twenty-four hours, Zeke. I’m not about to drop dead!” I burrow my face into the crook of his neck, and he hisses at the cold. He doesn’t reply and moves to rubbing his thumb up and down my lower back. His heart beats strong and fast, and speeds as I wrap my arms around his chest, craving more warmth.
“Did you tell me to run?” I ask him.
“When?”
“Last night. When I woke up on the ground, somebody called out ‘Eloise, run’. A guy’s voice.”
“No.”
“Then there’s somebody else out there,” I say and swallow.
“Maybe.” He shifts to wrap his arm around my waist. “If there’s someone else out there, they’ve shit tracking skills. That was probably some arsehole like Marcus trying to mess with your head.”
“Do you think Dorian and Ethan are out here too?”
“Nah. Dorian would’ve found you. Ethan too, probably.” He moves to look down at me. “What’s the deal with you and Ethan? Are you screwing him?”
“Uh. That’s a personal question, Zeke.”
He blinks slowly. “That’s a yes?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. He’s a bloody eunuch.”
I snort softly. “Not quite, but he doesn’t want to take things that far with me.”
“Huh. Mad bastard.” He nudges my nose with his. “And he’s lying—Ethan looks at you as if he wants to devour you.”
“Like Dorian?” I say and cough a laugh. “He wanted my blood. I almost let him.”
