Hex thinks he’s safe, but he forgot to guard his heart…
Six years ago, Hex arrived at Ravenswood an unruly eleven-year-old, starved of affection. Since then, the prestigious boarding school has become his home. Now in his final year, Hex refuses to think about the future, determined to enjoy the time he has left. This plan unravels on the very first night of term when he breaks curfew and runs straight into Jayce—the infuriatingly calm, frustratingly attractive new security guard.
What begins as mutual irritation soon sparks into something more, something forbidden. Hex knows falling for Jayce is against the rules, yet he can’t seem to stay away. But the closer he gets, the more he senses Jayce holding back. And Jayce isn’t the only one with secrets. As Hex’s world fractures around him, he discovers that Ravenswood is no longer the sanctuary he once believed it to be.
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What Readers Say
“As these days we’re saturated with dark academia, it was such a joy to discover a story of cozy academia! The intrigue kept me guessing—who is the mystery person seeking to thwart our protagonist’s happiness at every turn? It’s a true pleasure to read the prose of someone with such a deft hand at blending sweet romance and sinister suspense.”
– Molly Ringle
Excerpt
Beyond the rugby pitch, where the north and east walls meet, grows an ancient cedar. Not only is it a doddle to scale with plenty of hand- and footholds, but one of its sturdy branches forms a perfect bridge between the trunk and the top of the boundary wall. We’ve shared many a daring escapade, this tree and I. It has waved me off on countless nights out, kept my secret when I emptied a gut load of Bacardi and Coke into its roots.
With the instinct of long practice, the toe of my trainer finds the first ridge in the bark, and I begin to climb. In a matter of moments, I reach the fork and inch my way along the branch on my belly, fingers grasping for the wall.
Almost there.
“Mr. Reid-Fox?”
I nearly topple head first out of the tree and onto the lane below. Heart pounding, I dig my nails into the brickwork. What to do… Should I make a dash for it, dive over the wall and run? But, no, he used my name. How could whoever it is have recognised me in the dark? He can’t have followed me all the way from Nightingale…can he?
I pull myself upright to sit on the wall. No choice other than to brazen it out. “That’s me. Lovely evening for a walk.”
Read more…“A walk.” The statement drips scepticism. Anyone would think he’s never heard of a moonlit stroll before.
His tone catches me off guard. Not hostile, exactly—it’s too calm for that—but several light-years away from friendly. I narrow my eyes, peering into the darkness. I can just make out the solid outline of a figure in the shadow of the tree. Too stocky to be Ryan, and Omar left last year to become a bodyguard to some oil mogul. Besides, I’d recognise their voices. When you’ve spent your school career testing boundaries, you get to know the security guards pretty well.
“Sorry.” I adopt my best dinner-party manners. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Indeed. And we’re meeting here, now, half an hour after curfew, because…?”
“Oh. Well, the thing is, I suffer from the most crippling insomnia. Stretching my legs is the only cure.”
“I see.”
Still not so much as a flicker of amusement. If I could see the guy’s face, I’m betting it would be set harder than the bricks beneath me, but his features are a blur in the gloom. I frown. Ryan always chuckles at my attempts to wriggle out of trouble, while Omar treated me with wry exasperation. This new guard, if that’s even who he is, will need more coaxing onto my side.
“Absolutely,” I assure him, all earnest sincerity. “Fresh air and exercise are so beneficial for sleep.”
“And the pub has nothing to do with it, I assume.”
Well and truly busted. Not that I really thought he’d buy my tale of insomnia; I just didn’t expect him to call me out so blatantly.
“The pub?” If only it were daylight, I could dazzle him with the full force of my blue-eyed innocence. “I’m not sure what you mean. No, I like to come and sit up here sometimes…for the view.”
“The view. Right.”
This guy isn’t giving me a millimetre. My evening of drinking and flirting skitters away through my fingers.
Time to try a different tack.
I lean forward, lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You could always pretend you haven’t seen me.”
“Pretend I haven’t seen you.”
“Exactly. No one would ever need to know. You could just carry on with your round, forget any of this ever happened.”
“And you’ll sit here for a while, admire the view, then head back to bed.”
“Precisely.”
He’s silent for an eternity. I squint at him, watching for his demeanour to soften. He remains as immovable as the tree trunk behind him. He has to be considering my proposal, though. After all, what would be the harm? He’ll scrub my existence from his memory and I can continue my evening. Everyone’s happy.
“Well?” When he eventually speaks, the steel in his voice crushes my hopes. So much for us coming to a mutually beneficial arrangement. “I’m waiting.”
“Excuse me?”
“Enough play acting. Get down from there, please. It isn’t safe.”
I hesitate, glancing behind me at the lane and the promise of freedom. I could push some more, really ramp up my powers of persuasion, but I know when I’m fighting a losing battle. This guy isn’t budging, and I can’t afford to burn my bridges this early in the term. I kiss my plans farewell and shimmy back down the tree.
The instant my feet touch solid ground, his rigid stance relaxes and he gestures towards the path. “Lead on.”
Wait. Is he seriously going to march me back to the house? “You don’t need to escort me. I can find my own way.”
“I’m sure you can.” His snort contains a galaxy of cynicism. “Come on.”
There’s trust for you. This guy has one hell of a suspicious mind. I begin retracing my route, Mr. Killjoy a granite presence at my shoulder. I feel like a prisoner being returned to his cell. The only saving grace is that no one’s around to witness my humiliation. Enzo Grant-Taylor would have a field day.
As Nightingale looms into view, I clear my throat. “Um, I suppose there’s no chance we could avoid mentioning this to my housemaster?”
I hold my breath. Mr. Killjoy is silent for so long, I’m in real danger of asphyxiation. Still, I had to ask. A ticking-off from Pierce on the first night back wouldn’t be the ideal start to my final year.
When he still doesn’t answer, I assume the worst. My shoulders slump. Well, it was worth a shot.
Then he huffs. “Just get in.”
“What?” I straighten. “Really?”
He steps away from me, pointing towards the house. “Promise not to pull another stunt like this one and we’ll say no more about it. Now go, before I change my mind.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I hurry to the trellis below my window, get-out-of-jail-free card clutched to my chest. As I climb, Mr. Killjoy watches my every move. Typical. How come Tom’s dad chose this moment to hire a security guard who takes his job seriously? He could at least have waited till I’d left. If I want to enjoy the sort of freedom I’m used to, I’ll have to be more careful in future.