Falling shadows silvercr.., p.1
Falling Shadows (Silvercrest Academy Book 1), page 1
FALLING SHADOWS
SILVERCREST ACADEMY #1
KC KEAN
Falling Shadows
Silvercrest Academy #1
Copyright © 2023 KC Kean
www.authorkckean.com
Published by Featherstone Publishing Ltd
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referred to in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Editor - Encompass Editing Service
Proofreader - Sassi Edits
Interior Formatting & Design: Wild Elegance Formatting
Falling Shadows/ KC Kean
CONTENTS
Prologue
1. Raven
2. Raven
3. Raven
4. Raven
5. Raven
6. Eldon
7. Raven
8. Raven
9. Raven
10. Eldon
11. Raven
12. Raven
13. Raven
14. Raven
15. Eldon
16. Raven
17. Raven
18. Raven
19. Zane
20. Raven
21. Raven
22. Raven
23. Raven
24. Eldon
25. Raven
26. Brax
27. Raven
28. Raven
29. Brax
30. Raven
31. Raven
32. Raven
33. Creed
34. Raven
35. Zane
36. Raven
Afterword
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by KC Kean
To Heather,
Making memories with you is always a gift I will treasure forever.
“Follow your heart, find solace in the shadows, and take down the dawn.”
PROLOGUE
RAVEN
Wind sweeps through my curly locks, dusting around my neck as tears stream down my face. I don’t know why I’m crying. I just know that the sound of Mama and Papa arguing hurts my heart.
Sniffling, I wipe my nose on the cuff of my dress as a rumble of thunder sounds in the air. Mama is mad. The thunder bites like that every time she gets a twitch in her left eye.
Another tear rolls down my cheek as I stand on the porch of our home, helplessly looking up at my older brother. I’m four and he’s six. I’ve never seen him smile, but maybe he’s just never smiled at me. Maybe he does it when I’m not around. Maybe he’s happier then.
“Seb,” I start, but he quickly dismisses me with a shake of his head and his finger pointed in my face.
“Shut. Up. Raven.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, my bottom lip trembling once more as the front door bursts open and I startle, blinking up at Mama. The wrinkles around her bright blue eyes, almost onyx in color, are more pronounced than usual as I hear my papa call out her name.
“Evangeline, listen to me.” His tone is cold, his arms folded over his chest as he glares at her, completely ignoring Seb and me.
“I’ve listened enough, Abel. It’s not going to change, you’re not going to change, and if the consequence is a lifetime in Shadowmoor, then so be it. At least there, I’ll know where I stand and what I’m up against.”
Her hands vibrate at her sides with pent-up magic, a duffel bag hanging from her shoulder as she heaves with every breath. I reach out to touch her without realizing it, her fingers long and dainty compared to my own as she peers down at me.
A soft, sad smile touches her lips and I try to give her one back but fail miserably.
“Mama?” I ask gently, and she sighs, grabbing me under my arms a moment later and lifting me onto her hip.
I nestle into her side, resting my head on her shoulder as another rumble of thunder ripples through the air. “Forget it, Evangeline. She remains here. They both remain here.”
Mama scoffs. “What, so you can destroy them too? I don’t think so.” Her arms tighten around me and I cling to her collar. The smell of her familiar scent cocoons me as my sobs slowly subside.
Everything is always better when I’m in her arms, where I’m safe from Papa’s wrath and Seb’s…anger.
“You don’t get to make all of these decisions, Evangeline,” Papa bites, but Mama takes a step back.
“You’ve made enough decisions for the entire family without considering anyone else but yourself. You don’t get to pass judgment, Abel. I’m done with all of this. Consequences be damned.”
My eyebrows furrow as I squint between them both, even chancing a glance at Seb, but he’s glaring at Mama as he stands beside Papa. Papa's jaw ticks and Seb reaches for his hand.
Lines have been drawn, solidarity among the Hendrix family torn apart in a matter of breaths.
Not another word is spoken.
Not as Mama puts me in the car, not as I glance out of the window and watch as we leave them behind, and nothing at all for the next fourteen years.
Yet it somehow still feels too soon.
Pain at the hands of family, in the name of love and pride, even without physical harm, can destroy you.
How do you come back from that?
1
RAVEN
The crowd roars with triumph as I keep my back plastered to the wall. The bloodbath in the pit below holds everyone captive as the referee counts down to zero and calls the fight. The winner throws his hands above his head, celebrating his victory, while healers swarm the man at his feet in an attempt to save him.
Resurrection is against The Monarchy’s law, so it’s no surprise when the healers call time on the man’s life, sending another ripple of applause around the underground setup. We cheer at the loss of a man’s life. That’s what everything has come to. There’s no hope here, no blossoming gut feeling of a future that equates to more than this.
Shadowmoor.
Filled with shadows and…moor shadows.
Nothing more, nothing less. It’s in the name, but when we came here fourteen years ago, my mama and I, I didn’t understand. Yet day after day, week after week, it has drained my perky step and cheery smile and turned me into just another one of them.
I lurk in the shadows, hiding from the sun's glare as if threatened by its rays. I don’t know why I’m here. I do this every week, watching the brutality before my eyes, but I gain nothing. There’s not much else you can do here, though, and the four walls I call home were consuming me. This was the only alternative that didn’t involve a mistake at the end of it. More specifically, a guy. Any of them. Shadowmoor produces bad people and even worse lovers.
Sighing, I throw my hood up and stuff my hands into my pockets as I slink away from the pit. I avoid the larger crowds, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other until I step through the side door and find myself in the forest again.
I purse my lips as I glance back at the tree trunk I just stepped out of, expecting something…more to happen, but, as usual, nothing does. Keeping my hood over my face, I head for the clearing that is the fastest way home.
After only two steps, I halt at the sound of a snapping branch. I know it wasn’t me. The noise came from my left. I was hoping to avoid this tonight, my knuckles still busted from the beginning of the week, but there’s no rest for the wicked.
“Is that little Raven out all alone? Whatever will we do with her?”
Disappointment washes over me. I know that voice. The man behind it is why I’ve sworn off men. Again. It’s not my fault his pencil dick didn’t make me want to stick around. His asshole complex definitely didn’t help either. Now it seems his ego is here to rear its ugly head. Delightful.
Pulling my hood off, I turn to face him, not at all surprised to find him lurking in the shadows with his two closest friends flanking him. Alone, he was needy, whiny, and a raging fucking pussy. With his friends? He’s just an asshole with an inflated sense of self-importance.
“Are we really going to do this, Wyatt?” I ask, bored as hell with the inconvenience, and he sneers at me.
His head tilts to the side as he steps toward me. The only light comes from the moon, but it’s enough to make out his features. Not that I need the illumination, I can envision him from memory, from the crook to his nose and the scar down his left cheek, to those thin lips that were so gross against mine.
“No one will care about another dead shadow. There’s no one to protect you and you can’t defend yourself. You’re. Nothing. Just like all of the others. Especially since you have no magic to even put up a fight, Void.”
I resist the eye roll threatening to take over my face. I’ve known this guy all through school. He lives on the next road over from my house. I’ve never been shy nor meek and I’m pretty sure when he was dick deep inside of me, he proclaimed my badassery was a turn-on. Now? Not so much, it seems.
The sting of the truth on his lips burns my veins, though. I don’t have powers. He’s right. Nothing manifested on my eighteenth birthday, not even a flicker of energy, which is
Unzipping my jacket, I drop it to the ground, my adrenaline keeping my arms warm against the wind whipping up around us. “Let’s get this over with. I’m tired,” I grumble before charging toward him. The grin on his lips quickly dissolves as I throw my shoulder into his stomach, knocking him backward as his friends laugh.
“Fucking stupid bitch,” he grunts before we tumble to the ground. His friends quickly rip me from his body and I’m relieved they’re using their bare hands. It means I haven’t thrown myself into the deep end against guys with highly-graded powers. Not that anyone in Shadowmoor has substantial gifts. It’s like our magic is as sullied as our lifestyle. Rotting in the pits of Hell taints our abilities.
Not in my case, obviously. This place took them away entirely. Just like it enjoys taking everything else away from me. It sucks everything from my body and soul without ever offering anything in return, and it won’t stop until we’re all drenched in the same darkness it consumes us with.
Each of them grabs an arm but I still kick my legs, smashing Wyatt in the face with my boot. I grin when he dramatically falls back again, his attempt to stand squashed beneath my heel before I turn my attention to the two goons he brought with him.
Gripping the guy on my left by the arm, I dig my nails deep into his flesh and pull him toward me, smashing my skull into his with a precision that I know will leave him worse off than me. His hold on me drops instantly, his groan like music to my ears as I turn my slightly-dazed attention to the final fucker.
Before I can consider my next move, he lets me go, cursing under his breath before he takes off running. I frown, trying to catch my breath, my chest heaving as I glance down at the fallen attackers at my feet then back to the one who got away.
I might chase him down any other night to put him in his place, but Wyatt’s jibe at my lack of power is causing more of a stir in my chest than I’d care to admit. I just want to go home and nurse my bruised ego.
Reaching for my jacket, I zip it up and hover over the fucker who thought attacking me would be a good idea. “What I lack in power, I make up for with strength because I refuse to be left vulnerable to motherfuckers like you,” I bite, ready to kick him while he’s down, but I think I’ve already proven my point.
“Void bitch,” he grunts, hand cupping his bloody nose. I kick that fucker where it hurts before offering him a two-finger salute and getting the fuck out of there.
Once I’m out of the forest and onto the road, I slow my pace but remain alert, avoiding the gazes of everyone I pass with my hood firmly back in place. Curiosity always gets the better of me, leaving me wondering if any of these people are Void too. Are they proud of what they can do if they are gifted? Do they take pride in where they come from? Is their home complete, or broken like mine?
I don’t know what it’s like in the rest of the realm, but here in Shadowmoor, being a Void is more common than not. The second your magic doesn’t manifest on your eighteenth birthday, you become even more of an outcast than before. We’re already residents in the worst part of the realm, but to have no magic as well? It’s game over.
No magic means no entry into the academy, where you can at least try to better what the rest of your life looks like. Which means meddling in the fighting pits and salvaging some kind of income to survive is all I’m left with. I shouldn’t react so hard to being called a Void, but I can’t fucking help it. It’s still fresh, and all you can do in Shadowmoor is hope and dream that your magic will help set you on a better path. So, to have nothing to be thankful for but your every breath is soul destroying.
Every day is even more of a battle than before. I wish everyone wore a sign proclaiming what they are or what they can do. At least then I would know what I was up against the next time someone tried to attack me. It’s a common occurrence in Shadowmoor. I don’t think I’ve gone a week without someone swinging their fists at me since I turned thirteen. Even before then, it still happened. It was just less often.
It’s not how I remember my life before I came here, but it all feels so vague now that I can’t be sure. It’s just me and my will to survive. Along with Mama when she deigns to make an appearance.
Turning onto my road, fourth house down, I notice the front light isn’t on, which is a sure sign that Mama isn’t home yet. Disappointment twists inside me like it always does but I quickly squash it down and roll my neck, telling myself that I’m the independent badass bitch I pretend to be and her presence doesn’t make a difference.
We left our home together, standing in solidarity that I didn’t understand, but we have grown apart as the years have dwindled on. Yet she’s been my only constant for the longest time. Even if she’s never home, there’s always a roof over my head and food in the cupboards. It may be sparse some days, but it’s there all the same.
I take the key hidden under the plant pot and let myself inside. It’s safer than carrying it on me in case someone successfully brings me to my knees. Plus, it stops me from using it as a weapon, which got me into trouble a year or so ago.
Kicking the door shut behind me, I sigh, hating that this is what my life has become. Shadowmoor is one giant pit of pain, hatred, and dishonor. Just how The Monarchy likes it to be. Separate us, tell us we’re bad for long enough, and we’ll just start to believe it. They live their best lives in Haven Court, where the sun gleams brightly and gold touches most surfaces the light kisses, and we survive in squalor among the darkness.
My head falls back with a thud and a floorboard squeaks from the kitchen a moment later.
Fuck. My. Life.
I would really love to catch a break right about now.
I wonder if I mention my head is pounding and my knuckles are still red from the previous run-ins I’ve had this week that whoever it is might fuck off, but a second creak sounds in my ears and I know I’m shit out of luck.
Holding my breath, I square my shoulders and curl my hand around the key I'm still holding. I give myself to the count of three before slamming my hand against the light switch to illuminate the room.
A figure stands in the doorway leading from the lounge to the kitchen and I freeze in place. I must have hit my head harder than I thought because I sure as shit can’t actually be seeing what I think I’m seeing right now.
“Oh, good. You’re finally home.”
His voice is the same crisp ice I remember in my nightmares. The only thing different about him is the scar across his chin and the gray peppering his temples.
“Abel,” I croak despite myself, refusing to refer to him by anything other than his given name. I’ve hated him all my life and craved his approval and presence more than I can bear to admit, but how he looks at me hasn’t changed. He still has the ability to leave me standing here feeling like I'm…less than.
A flash of memory from the last time I saw him flickers in my mind. The smell of rain in the air, the wind in my hair, the tears running down my cheeks, and Mama’s grip around my body as we left.
“This isn’t quite the warm welcome I expected, Raven.”
I’m still rooted to the spot, shock leaving me weak as irritation quickly cuts through my veins at his comment.
“I don’t recall inviting you here, so I’m struggling to see why you would be welcomed, let alone warmly,” I grunt, hands flexing at my sides as he simply smirks at me.
