Descendants Academy: Young Adult Urban Fantasy by Belle Malory (best books to read .txt) 📕

Descendants Academy

Belle Malory

Contents

Prologue

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

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Keep In Touch

Copyright © 2020 Belle Malory

All rights reserved.

KDP ISBN: 9798639585999

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

You can visit Belle Malory at: http://www.bellemalory.blogspot.com

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Cover by Christian Bentulan

Editing by Cheryl Murphy at https://inkslingereditorialservices.com

Prologue

Don’t look inside.

My steps slowed at the stairs, all of my senses heightening. Balsam and cedar—Riley’s favorite scents—filled every shaky breath. My vision sharpened on the closed door at the end of the hall, soft moans coming from the other side. Muffled, uneven, and full of pleasure. I gripped the banister, my knuckles white with strain.

We’d spent a lot of time together lately, more than usual. At first, it seemed strange. My sister and I hadn’t bonded over anything since grade school. Back then, we were basically the same person. All we cared about were unicorns and big-eyed surprise dolls. With only a year separating us in age, everything about us was alike, down to our mannerisms and the way we spoke. People even referred to us as the Thorne twins. If not for the slight difference in hair color, it might have been hard to tell us apart. Riley’s was strawberry blonde, while mine was more rose gold. Now hers was streaked with purple, and I usually kept mine in a pony.

Go back.

My bones ached as I moved toward the door. A powerful intuition I’d never experienced cautioned me to tread carefully. To stop. Better yet, turn and run the other way.

Now we contrasted like night and day. Riley excelled at everything. Sports, friends, school, it didn’t matter. She was outgoing, ready for any adventure. I was the shy one, nose in my books, and my eyes on the stars. She cast a wide net with friends. Mine was a small trio. She went through several boyfriends. I’ve only ever noticed one guy. For all our differences though, I still worshipped the ground my sister walked on. Everything about her was shiny and pretty and gutsy. I admired that.

When Riley turned seventeen, she changed drastically, and almost overnight. Suddenly rebellious, always getting herself grounded, and an overall bad attitude. After several months of this, Dad banned her from hanging out with her friends altogether. Totally her fault—she was stupid enough to get caught drinking and smoking weed and breaking curfew all in the same night. Dad said he couldn’t trust her, and until he could, she wasn’t allowed to leave the house except for school. That’s where I entered her world again. Me, the girl quietly reading in the background, pretending not to notice when she snuck out her bedroom window. Me, the same girl she used to overlook. We became friends again, and I was happy to have any piece of my sister’s attention, no matter how it started.

Don’t open it.

Most of the time, she acted as the third wheel since Connor was always over. That was another one of Dad’s rules. My boyfriend could hang out here, but I couldn’t go to his house. Somehow, we all got along really well though. We watched movies, did homework, binged on junk food, and played card games. Riley and I made up for lost time.

Why does it sound like his voice?

My hand trembled as I reached for the handle. There was so much good in my life. So much happiness. If I opened that door, it would change everything. Bring hurt and pain into a world that was perfect and beautiful.

Still.

I had to know.

So I slowly twisted the knob.

1

It was one mistake.

One mistake in seventeen years. I’d been the good daughter. My dad’s baby girl. His perfect angel. Granted, as far as mistakes went, this was a big one. No one took it lightly when you attempted to commit murder. Even less so when you tried to murder your sibling.

Grandpa drove while I slept in the passenger seat, my suitcase tucked away in the bed of his truck. They were sending me away. To where, I didn’t know yet. Creature of habit that I was, everything about this felt unfamiliar and terrifying—I hated having to leave my whole life behind. Then again, I’d dug this grave for myself.

At one point I’d woken up, screaming. The night’s events replayed in the form of nightmares. A thermos of liquid that reeked of alcohol was shoved into my hands, along with a book, one of the latest bestselling thrillers.

“To help you sleep. I remembered you like to read.”

I looked over at Grandpa. He sat ramrod straight, a pair of dark aviators hanging from the neck of his short-sleeved button-up. Apart from the tan lines and extra grays, he looked the same as he had the last time I saw him. Face like stone, salt and pepper mustache, and a gaze that tore through to the bone. Everything about him had always been intimidating. Twenty years in the military had seen to that, followed by twenty more in the FBI—probably the reason Dad chose him to deal with me.

“I’m barely seventeen,” I said, wondering if he needed the reminder. “You’re supposed to keep me in line, remember?”

I expected backhands and pushups, not booze and books.

He snorted. “Perhaps you’ve been walking in your straight line too long. Perhaps that’s why you don’t know how to walk outside of it without completely veering off course.”

I blinked once, considering that. The old man might be terrifying, but he made a solid point.

Everyone had an evil streak. It felt like I’d worked my whole life to ensure that side of me never