Noble Savages: A Dark High School Bully Romance Box Set Read online

  Noble Savages

  A Dark Bully High School Romance Multi-Author Box Set

  Logan Fox

  Nicole Cypher

  Rina Kent

  Esme Devlin

  Natalie Bennett

  Queens of the Dark

  Copyright © 2019 by Natalie Bennett, Nicole Cypher, Esme Devlin, Logan Fox, Rina Kent

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Blurb

  Cruel. Brutal. Vicious. Lawless. Merciless.

  * * *

  Maybe you’re the new girl.

  Maybe you’ve always had it coming.

  Maybe you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Either way, you’re about to become the victim.

  You’re about to bow, break, and bend the knee. You’re about to kneel at my feet.

  I’ll destroy your credibility.

  I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you by my side.

  I’ll make you learn the hard way there is only one way out.

  And when all is said and done, I’ll leave you begging for me to do it again...

  * * *

  Five possessive, controlling bullies.

  Five strong, spirited heroines.

  Welcome to their Savage Kingdom.

  * * *

  Noble Savages by Natalie Bennett, Nicole Cypher, Esme Devlin, Logan Fox and Rina Kent is a five books dark high school romance boxset.

  All standalone.

  All full length.

  No cliffhangers.

  All the angst, the steam, and HEA you've been looking for.

  Contents

  Warning

  Logan Fox

  Brutal Prince

  Nicole Cypher

  Vicious Knight

  Rina Kent

  Cruel King

  Esme Devlin

  Merciless Knave

  Natalie Bennett

  Lawless Kingdom

  Thank you

  Warning

  Mature Readers Only

  Please note that these are works of dark fiction and include intense sexual/violent scenes which some readers may find triggering. Please proceed with caution.

  Brutal Prince Blurb

  Everyone bows to the prince. Well, everyone except me.

  * * *

  Arrogant, brutal, sexy Prince Briar has made it clear that I’m not welcome at Lavish Prep, but I’ve got nowhere else to go and I’m not backing down.

  * * *

  Guess we’ll see who’s left standing when the dust settles.

  Vicious Knight Blurb

  Everyone has secrets...

  * * *

  What do you do to the person who learns yours?

  * * *

  I’ll tell you what I did. I went after her.

  * * *

  I wrecked her credibility.

  * * *

  I destroyed her friendships.

  * * *

  I ruined her reputation.

  * * *

  And she responded in the most foolish way possible. She fought back.

  * * *

  My last name might be Knight, but she’s the furthest thing from being rescued.

  Cruel King Blurb

  He’s no fairy tale king.

  * * *

  Levi

  Here, little princess. I'm your king.

  You have three rules. Bow. Break. Bend the knee.

  Fight me all you want, but soon enough, you'll be chanting long live the king.

  * * *

  Astrid

  One day I'm Royal Elite School's small fly, the next I'm hunted and left to die.

  He doesn't only shred my life to parts, but he's also coming after my heart.

  He thinks he broke me, but the new princess will bring the king to his knees.

  Merciless Knave Blurb

  I was traded like the Queen of Diamonds in a game of cards, before I was old enough to spell the word 'marriage'.

  * * *

  He says I'm his. Always have been, always will be.

  * * *

  Not while I'm still breathing.

  * * *

  Til death us do part?

  * * *

  If that's the way it has to be, I'm dragging him to hell with me.

  Lawless Kingdom Blurb

  One town.

  One school.

  One illicit affair that will span a lifetime.

  * * *

  You can never truly know someone.

  Not even the ones you love.

  * * *

  What started as the best summer of Rhiannon Clermont’s life ended with her world being flipped completely upside down. All because she got entangled with Judas Barron, blue blood, and heir to a severely twisted and cutthroat society.

  * * *

  Now forced to be part of a savage coterie harboring sinister secrets, their mutual hatred for one another breeds a lethal lust and the sickest kind of infatuation.

  Brutal Prince

  Logan Fox

  Brutal Prince Blurb

  Everyone bows to the prince. Well, everyone except me.

  * * *

  Arrogant, brutal, sexy Prince Briar has made it clear that I’m not welcome at Lavish Prep, but I’ve got nowhere else to go and I’m not backing down.

  * * *

  Guess we’ll see who’s left standing when the dust settles.

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  Contents

  Brutal Prince Playlist

  Prologue

  1. Indi

  2. Indi

  3. Briar

  4. Indi

  5. Briar

  6. Indi

  7. Indi

  8. Indi

  9. Briar

  10. Indi

  11. Indi

  12. Indi

  13. Briar

  14. Indi

  15. Briar

  16. Indi

  17. Indi

  18. Indi

  19. Indi

  20. Briar

  21. Briar

  22. Briar

  23. Indi

  24. Briar

  25. Briar

  26. Briar

  27. Indi

  28. Briar

  29. Briar

  30. Indi

  31. Indi

  32. Indi

  33. Indi

  34. Indi

  35. Briar

  36. Briar

  37. Briar

  38. Indi

  39. Briar

  40. Indi

  41. Briar

  42. Briar

  43. Indi

  44. Indi

  45. Indi

  46. Indi

  47. Indi

 
48. Briar

  49. Indi

  50. Indi

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Also by Logan Fox

  About the Author

  Brutal Prince Playlist

  French 75 — Cane Hill

  Cage — Blackshots

  Who’s Gonna Stop Me — Tommee Profitt, Jung Youth

  lovely — Billie Eilish, Khalid

  Forgive Me — The Plot In You

  My Body Is a Cage — Monarchy

  DRIP — Crywolf

  when the party’s over — Billie Eilish

  Your Love is Like a Car Crash — Blue October

  Stop a Bullet — Black Light Burns

  Heaven — Julia Michaels

  * * *

  Check out my Brutal Prince Playlist!

  Prologue

  Life isn’t fair.

  Life is fucking cruel.

  But we only get this one, so we have to make it count. You can’t dwell on the past. You have to look ahead, count your blessings, and make plans for the future.

  That’s what my mother used to tell me, when I was sad because my best friend moved out of town. When I had to have surgery to remove my tonsils. Then, a year later, my appendix.

  She’d always have faith that a better day was just behind the horizon.

  Go to sleep, my girl.

  Have pleasant dreams.

  Tomorrow is a new day.

  My mother was raped, tortured, and murdered last week during a home invasion. The sadistic criminal who did it then set fire to our home.

  Where was I?

  At a party, getting drunk and trying to lose my virginity.

  It’s been eight days, fourteen hours since my mother’s beautiful soul left this earth. Life should have been easier by now, but it’s not.

  See…Mom lied.

  It doesn’t matter how many times I go to sleep, I don’t have pleasant dreams anymore.

  When I try to count my blessings, I come up short.

  My plans for the future?

  I don’t have any.

  When I look ahead, all I see is darkness.

  I’m waiting for that bright new day you promised me, mom.

  Because tomorrow still hasn’t come.

  Chapter One

  Indi

  I don’t remember Lavish being this travel-brochure perfect town nestled against the gentle slope of a mountain. Somehow, it’s impossible for me to picture myself ever having lived here. I traveled through Mallhaven — Lavish’s sister town — to get here. The towns share sinister-looking black peaks, as if they were split down the middle when those spires rose up out of hell.

  When I drove through Mallhaven, the town was already cast in shadow. Lavish, on the other hand, dazzles in the remaining hour of sunlight.

  My GPS sends me straight through town, where my path winds up one of the roads leading higher into the mountains. There are tons of pines here; so many that twilight’s shadow falls around me as I stop outside a fanciful wrought-iron gate. I can’t see a house from here. Instead, I’m surrounded by more firs and the dark, distant peaks of the Devil’s Spine.

  Getting out of the junker Mom’s insurance company passed off as a rental car, I head over to the gate and grab hold of one of the iron flourishes.

  The metal is ice-cold, slightly damp.

  There’s an intercom to one side. I press its button, and seconds later a voice warbles out through the speaker.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s Indi.”

  “Excuse me?”

  I grind my teeth as I bend at the waist to put my mouth closer to the slotted microphone. “Indigo. Virgo. Your granddaughter?”

  “I was expecting you several hours ago.”

  I straighten, thinning my lips and hoping to all hell the voice on the other side of the line isn’t expecting a reply. It was a five-hour drive through states and counties I’ve never been. What the hell was she expecting?

  Slamming my car door, I rev the engine and tear through the gates as soon as they’re just wide enough for me to pass.

  As much as I would have liked to knock those majestic gates off-kilter, the last thing I need is Mom’s insurance company billing me for damage to their car.

  It’s super hard to stay angry. I mean, I’m trying, but this place is just so fucking beautiful. The air is fresh and piney. A chill promises a cool night.

  Lakeview — which I still insist should have been named Swampview — was always so hot and sticky. Even in winter, the nights were hot. We had air conditioning at our lake house, of course, but I’ve always been the outdoors type. I hated being cooped up in my room. Mom used to—

  The road curves, and I almost don’t make the unexpected turn. My wheels go off the side of the paved road, digging into soft grass and spitting it out behind me before I can steer back onto solid ground.

  “Fuck.”

  I slow down the car, and then stop. As I wait for my heartbeat to drop back to normal, I peer out my windows to take in the towering pines and the dark, distant peaks.

  They’re prettier on this side. Not as sharp, not as jagged.

  Hiding their true form.

  It takes me a good few minutes to reach my new home.

  I was expecting a mansion, but gran’s place is just a big house. Double story, with a loft or attic on top. Big wrap-around porch. Immaculate lawn. No fences either — the lawn ends several yards away from the house.

  Right where the now-black forest begins.

  There’s a woman standing by the front door. She looks like those old, rich ladies who wear pearls to breakfast and have a butler whose name is undoubtedly James. But contrasted against a house that needs a new coat of paint and some replacement roof tiles, Grandma Marigold looks out of place.

  I stop my car in the drive, get out, and wave at her.

  She’s wearing a dress-suit and standing tall and proper, with her lips pursed and red as a raspberry. She shifts her shoulders a bit, purse intensifying the closer I get.

  It’s been years since I’ve seen her last. Close to two decades, in fact. That was right about the time Mom and I moved to Lakeview.

  She’s not anything like I remember, except if what I have in my head are manufactured memories from a toddler. My gran had rosy cheeks, a chubby body perfect for hugs, and a smile that could light up the room.

  Just like my mother.

  I force a smile. “Hey, Granny—”

  “You shall call me Marigold,” she cuts in. Her eyes rake over me, and don’t I feel every inch of a pile of brittle yellow autumn leaves right now?

  “You look just like your mother.” It should have been a compliment — Mom was the epitome of grace and beauty — but in that tone of voice, it becomes an insult.

  Eyes the color of flint dismiss me. “And you’re late, just like she always was.”

  “Yeah, I do take after her,” I murmur to myself as Marigold pivots on her mules and struts inside.

  I glance out at Lavish before following. I’m starting to wish I’d had a flat on the way and had to sleep in my car instead of washing up here.

  Not that I have a choice, of course. I still have a few months to go before my eighteenth birthday, which means I’m still a minor.

  Someone, apparently, has to take care of me until then.

  Somehow, whoever gave Marigold that responsibility, has never met the witch in person.

  “Dining room,” Marigold states, flipping a hand in the direction of a glaringly sober teak dining room set sporting silver tableware.

  “Living room.” Another flip of her hand points at a room that hasn’t seen any living in a fuck-long time.

 
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