Royal Monsters
Avery Free
Copyright Avery Free
Royal Monsters
Avery Free 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this book can be used without written permission from the author. The characters and events in this book are completely fictitious. Any similarities to characters, places, events, or companies are purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Table of Contents
R oyal Monsters is a bully academy reverse harem romance. As a bully romance, the guys are sometimes assholes to the heroine, but theyre always redeemable. This is also a reverse harem, meaning the heroine will have more than one sexy guy interested in her, and she wont have to choose between her studs at the end of the book.
A n episode for books is like an episode on television. Many things will get resolves each episode, but not the entire plot. These stories will be shorter, and typically end on a cliffhanger, but the next serial will come soon after, so you wont be left hanging for too long.
So, in other words, if youre looking for something hot and exciting to read, but dont want to get caught up reading for hours, you might enjoy these episodes!
C at
Seven years ago...
I wake up with a jolt, panting. The bright light above me stings my eyes, and I turn and cough out blood. The coppery taste lingers on my tongue, and my throat is scratchy. For a half second I expect to feel the empty spots where my teeth should have been, but my teeth have already regrown. I have brief flashes of my parents beating me. Of watching my teeth go flying. Of hearing the crack as my jaw broke. And of more. Much more.
So much pain.
My screams seem to echo through my mind before I take a deep shuddering breath and push the memories to the back of my mind, to the little box Ive named the do not open box.
Sitting up slowly from the metal bed, I stare around my parents lab, which looks like some madmans mix of a doctors office and a laboratory. My gaze skitters across the area on one side of the room and freezes, even though I beg myself to look away. The area is splattered with my blood, painting the white tarp that protects the walls and floor from staining. In the center of the tarp, a massive red stains marks the place I died this last time.
My gaze jerks away from it.
Sliding down from the table, I ignore the way my legs shake. The day after I die is always a little rough. I need a few good meals, lots of liquid, and sleep, before I feel like myself again.
I climb up the many stairs until I reach the metal door that locks me in this space. On the outside of it, just barely etched into the metal, are scratch marks. From the times when I was younger. When I still tried to escape.
Taking a deep breath, I knock on the metal. A minute passes before the door opens. My adopted mothers on the other side. Her hair is the same pale blonde as my own, only hers comes out of a box. Thats the only thing about her that might fool people into thinking were related by blood. Otherwise, shes a woman with her hair swept up into a tight bun and a wide smile painted in red lipstick. She wears an apron with little cows on it, over her pink dress.
Cat, darling, go wash up, breakfast is almost ready. She moves to the side to let me pass, and her voice holds the note of a mother scolding her child.
I flinch as I move passed her and head down the hall to my room.
Simon is sitting against the wall outside of my bedroom. He stares at me with big eyes peeking out from beneath a head of messy brown hair. Technically, were both thirteen... but whether its because our adopted parents treat him like a child, and me like a science experiment, he just seems younger.
You didnt sleep out here again, did you? I ask, glancing behind me to make sure our mom has headed back to the kitchen, which she has.
He rises to his feet and instantly pulls me into a hug, even though hes a full head shorter than me, his gentle touch always helps to remind me that not every touch has to bring pain. For the briefest moment, I hold him tightly. Letting my walls crumble. Then, taking a deep shuddering breath, I put my walls back into place and stiffen in his arms.
Im okay, I say.
Slowly, he releases me, and our eyes lock. You know youre covered in dried blood, right? Even your hair looks died red.
I force a smile. It was nothing.
He looks sad. You always say that.
Simons never seen what goes on in the basement, but he isnt stupid. He knows. As much as I try to hide it from him.
Im fine, I tell him, but Im going to run and take a shower. Save some bacon for me?
He nods.
I try not to move stiffly as I walk past him and into my room. Shutting the door, I glance back at the perfectly decorated room in different shades of purple, with its matching bedspread.
I hate this house. I hate the decorations my parents put up. But at least in here I dont have to pretend Im fine. And just being able to move stiffly, to not smile... well, it takes a huge weight off my shoulders.
Shedding my clothes, I throw them into the hamper, trying not to notice how the white t-shirt is now red. Going to the bathroom, I shower, wincing as the water stings my sensitive skin. But after a time, the warmth from the shower begins to ease my stiff muscles. Its almost pleasant, but I also know Ive burned through my time. If I dont hurry, my parents will be angry.
And its never a good idea to make them angry.
Turning the water off, I dry, dress, and head out to the table. My father is already seated at the table. The big man glances at me over his paper, then holds out his cup so my mother can fill it up with more steaming coffee. I sink into my chair beside Simon, and my brother piles my plate with eggs, bacon, and pancakes. For a while, we eat in silence.
At last, my father finishes his paper and sets it down beside his plate. He and my mother exchange a glance, and I slowly put my fork down. That looks never a good thing.
Next page