Found: A Reverse Harem Academy Shifter Bully Romance (Thornbriar Academy Series Book 1)

  Cali Mann

  Found

  Thornbriar Academy Book One

  Copyright © 2019 by Cali Mann

  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.

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

  Cali Mann has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

  First edition

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  Contents

  Hailey

  Hailey

  Hailey

  Hailey

  Hailey

  Terrin

  Hailey

  Adrian

  Hailey

  Sciro

  Hailey

  Terrin

  Hailey

  Hailey

  Adrian

  Hailey

  Hailey

  Terrin

  Hailey

  Hailey

  Hailey

  Terrin

  Hailey

  Sciro

  Hailey

  Hailey

  Terrin

  Hailey

  Adrian

  Hailey

  Terrin

  Hailey

  Terrin

  Adrian

  Sciro

  Hailey

  Hailey

  Sciro

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  1

  Hailey

  I squeezed my hands together, the rough bitten fingernails digging into my skin. Even with my enhanced vision, I couldn’t see a thing in the all-encompassing darkness. The night passed slowly in the closet. I knew wallpapered walls surrounded me, covered in tiny roses, stained yellow and brown from legions of smokers who once called Hastings House home. Even though I could reach out and touch the peeled edges, I still felt like I was floating in endless black space.

  My arms were wrapped around my legs, and I leaned my chin on my kneecaps. The closet no longer fit my seventeen-year-old body. I didn’t have enough room to stretch out, even to sleep. My ears pricked at the sound of mice scratching at the wall. A furry body ran over my foot, and I grabbed it, snapping my jaws at the creature. It squeaked, and I let it go. My whole body itched as if my skin was too tight on my frame. Closet punishments were so much harder during my wolf phases.

  The door creaked open, and I stared at the empty room, my eyes adjusting to the moonlight that streamed in through the thin curtains. Had three days passed already? Three days since I bit Rose’s arm? She’d made the mistake of picking on Cassie, the newest and youngest addition to Hastings House.

  “Out with you, girl,” snapped the female warden. Her gray hair was tied back in a severe bun, and her hawk nose took up most of her face.

  They never bothered to learn our names, even after I’d been a prisoner here for more than ten years. In petty revenge, I never learned theirs either.

  “To bed,” Hawk Nose commanded.

  I stumbled out of the cramped closet, trying to get my legs under me again after being in that tiny space for days. I headed out the door and down the musty stairwell to the dormitory floor. All of us slept in one big room on steel cots with thin lumpy mattresses. Still, after the closet, even my cot sounded like heaven.

  The dim hallway stretched out in front of me, as dark and dank as my life. Moving down it, I heard a giggle from the end, and I marched toward the sound. My stomach growled. There’d be no food until morning. Maybe I should take another bite out of angel-faced Rose.

  Girls, ranging in age from six to seventeen, clustered around a small heating vent set in the wall. We all wore the same bleached white nightgowns like we belonged in some musical on TV. I strolled toward them as casually as I could on my sore legs. My bare feet were silent on the wood floor. It wouldn’t do any of us any good to be caught out of bed after hours. I didn’t want to go back to the closet anytime soon.

  “They’re talking about you, Hailey.” Rose’s lower lip jutted out, her bandaged arm hanging by her side. Her dark eyes flashed with ferocity, but it was show. They were all terrified of me.

  “Oh, really?” I leaned against the wall, feigning carelessness. Tension strung along my nerves. Had Mr. Hastings found out? About my episodes? He didn’t tolerate anything different, anything imperfect.

  “He’s gonna sell you off,” Cassie squeaked, her blonde pigtails bouncing. She was six and had only been here a month or two. Cassie still called for her mommy in her sleep. She wouldn’t see her, not ever again. None of us would.

  I growled, the sound rough and harsh in the silent hall. A wolf night. I’d spend my dreams chasing rabbits and howling at the moon.

  As one, the girls trembled and appeared ready to bolt like a herd of deer.

  Shoving my black hair out of my eyes, I scowled at them. They all knew I was a freak. There was no hiding it when we all slept in the same dormitory. They’d seen all my phases. Mermaid nights when I woke drenched in seawater, crow dreams when I cawed as I soared the skies, and fire phase…well, there had been more than one near disaster on those nights.

  But the girls knew better than to tell him. So, how had he found out?

  With a wave of my hand, I marched forward. The girls skittered out of the way. Folding my tall frame down to crouch by the vent was harder than it had been when I was younger, but I made it work and I listened.

  “She’s a virgin,” said the unmistakable grumbly voice of Mr. Hastings.

  I shivered. The heavyset, balding man had been the one to lure seven-year-old-me into his car, telling me that he was looking for his lost puppy.

  Taking a breath, I coughed at the heavy scent of pine cleaner. The floor had been scrubbed this morning. Rose had done it, and she always used too much soap.

  A woman’s voice said, “Eighteen and a virgin? She’ll fetch a high price.”

  “Everyone will want to pop that cherry.” Mr. Hastings chuckled.

  I could almost see him rubbing his fat hands together like some cartoon villain. He rarely came upstairs, leaving our care to three female wardens, but I would never forget his appearance.

  “Next month then,” the woman said. “On the 30th.”

  “A grand auction,” he said. “We’ll be richer.”

  “And rid of a troublesome brat,” she said sourly.

  “Cheers to that,” he said, and glasses clinked.

  Closing my eyes, I shuddered. My eighteenth birthday was a month away. Unfortunately, I had lived long enough in Hastings House to know what a virgin auction was. Fear wound around my spine like a snake.

  Mr. Hastings hadn’t been patient enough to wait for all the girls to grow up before he sold them off. I’d comforted more than a few over the years after they returned from servicing a customer. TV portrayed the sex act as something loving and fun, but the girls had come back devastated. Their stories of pain and blood had chilled me to the bone. I shuddered.The a virgin auction was d
ifferent from a one-time customer. I’d actually have to go live with whoever bought me.

  Hearing a giggle, I glanced down the hall. Girls peeked around the doorway, eager to see my reaction. Schooling my features, I frowned at them, and they ducked back.

  I listened again at the grate, but even my more sensitive wolf-night ears couldn’t pick up any more voices. I heard the crackle of a fire and smelled burning wood from Mr. Hastings’ fireplace, but nothing more.

  Standing, I squared my shoulders. I had a month. I scanned up and down the dark hallway, at the barred windows on either end. Not only did I not want to be sold off and raped, but if I lived somewhere else, my secret would be exposed. They’d find out I was a freak.

  Padding down to the front window, I looked at the grassy yard. Billed as a home for wayward girls, Hastings House claimed to be a Christian charity. Though it sat just off the main road that led into the town, no one came near the iron fence that encircled the overgrown grounds. Insisting on the need to keep the girls safe, Mr. Hastings employed human guards to patrol the property as well as canines. My wolf growled at the thought of the rottweilers.

  Inside, the wardens kept us on a strict daily schedule of sleeping, eating, and chores. We were allowed one hour daily of recreation which most girls spent glued to the TV, seeking visions of a happier life. Any deviation was met with strict punishment: beatings, deprivation, or closet time. I’d experienced them all in my ten years here. I scratched at the scar that ran along my back from the whipping I’d received when I’d tried to escape before.

  But I was younger and less experienced then. This time I’d succeed.

  2

  Hailey

  As I scrubbed the supper dishes the next day, I considered my options. I’d spent the whole day cataloging escape routes from Hastings House. While Mr. Hastings tried to make us as self-sufficient as possible, we still lived in the modern world. The housing and care, if you could call it that, of a hundred plus girls required some planning and assistance from the outside. We had food deliveries, laundry was sent out to commercial washers, and so on.

  One of the wardens came up behind me. I could smell her hydrangea perfume before she touched my arm. It stank, and I rubbed my nose with the sleeve of my dress. Spinning around, I stared at Doe Eyes. She was the youngest of the wardens, with big blue eyes and a heart-shaped face. On first glance, one might mistake her for a kind woman, but no girl ever made that mistake twice.

  “You have a visitor,” Doe Eyes said.

  “A visitor?” I growled, my wolf getting the best of me.

  She slapped me hard and sharp across my cheek, and then she curled her hand around my arm. Her long nails dug into my skin through the worn fabric of my dress sleeve.

  The plate I was holding slipped from my hand and crashed against the metal sink before slipping under the water.

  “Come on,” she muttered, yanking me out of the kitchen and down the hall.

  There wasn’t any use resisting. All of the wardens were built from pure steel. Besides, I have to say I was a little curious about a visitor. Mr. Hastings wouldn’t be giving me to a customer if he expected to sell my virginity, so who could this be?

  Doe Eyes shoved me into the bathroom and under the shower head. Then, she turned on the faucet, and cold water poured over still-clothed me. After a minute or two, she tugged me out and sat me on a stool. She pulled a brush through my unruly hair and tore off my soaked clothing. After helping me into a short red dress, she blow dried my hair and tied it back with a red bow.

  I glanced at myself in the broken mirror that ran over the counter top. I looked ridiculous, like a wild animal dressed up for tea. My dark green eyes were liquid pools in my pale face, paler after the confinement in the closet. While my black hair was bound, wisps slipped free and danced around my face.

  Doe Eyes pinched my cheeks as if that would help their color, and she ran a red lipstick across my lips. Frowning, she inspected me and sighed. “That’ll have to do.”

  Carrying a pair of red dress shoes, she pulled me out into the hall and down the stairs. At the door of Mr. Hastings’ study, she shoved the shoes at me and jerked her head.

  I reached down and slipped them on. The shoes were a size too small and hurt my feet. I grimaced and stared at the chestnut-colored door. None of us went inside unless we were really in trouble. Through the wood, my wolf ears picked up the murmur of male voices and I took a breath.

  Neither Doe Eyes nor I moved. We stood frozen as the voices grew louder in argument. Then, Mr. Hastings caved.

  “All right,” he snarled. “Ten minutes. No more.” The door opened. He shoved me inside, and he and Doe Eyes departed.

  I blinked. The fire in the fireplace was built too high and the small space was stuffy and hot. Two large high-backed armchairs sat in front of the fireplace, their woolly green fabric set off by the red bricks. Between them stood a table on three spindly wooden legs and, on its surface, a decanter of brandy and two glasses, one empty and one full.

  A man rose from one of the chairs. Taller and slimmer than Mr. Hastings, he had a full head of curly dark brown hair sprinkled with grey. He wore a well-fitted black suit, meant to leave room for his muscled arms and chest. He approached me slowly, and his nose wrinkled as if he smelled something sour.

  “Do I smell bad?” I asked.

  “Like flowers, hydrangeas,” he muttered.

  “That’ll be the warden. Her perfume.”

  He sniffed again and nodded. “It’s fading.”

  I arched an eyebrow, annoyed and curious at the same time. Who was this man? And why was he behaving so strangely? He paced around me, inspecting me from top to bottom. “Like what you see?” I snarled.

  He met my eyes, and the intensity in his gaze made me look at the floor. Leaning close to my ear, he whispered, “Your wolf called to me.”

  Stiffening, I glared at him. How did he know about my wolf?

  “And my wolf answered.” Studying my face, he frowned. “I am here to rescue you.”

  I snorted. Men only wanted one thing, and it was never to save us. If I let him help, he’d expect something in return. Besides, I had my own plan to escape; what did I need him for? “I don’t need to be rescued.”

  “Of course not.” He glanced at my tawdry dress, and the corner of his lip lifted. He continued, his voice coated with sarcasm, “Hastings House- Home for Wayward Girls is exactly where you want to be.”

  “And what would I owe you for my rescue?”

  “Owe me?” His dark brown eyes studied me again, then he huffed and scratched his neck. He gestured for me to sit in one of the green chairs. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

  I sat on the very edge of the cushion, and tried to discreetly push off the heels of my too tight shoes, but I kept my eyes on him.

  “My name is Noah Reed.” He pushed a loose curl back out of his eyes and sighed. “I’m a recruiter for Thornbriar Academy, and I wouldn’t have even been in this tiny town except there’s a family of bear shifters not far from here who’s youngest has come of age. Mrs. Martin has a hard time letting any of the cubs go, but the baby is the hardest . . . .” He trailed off when he saw the confusion on my face.

  Shifters? An academy? What was a recruiter? I didn’t know what to ask when so many questions swirled through my head. Finally, I blurted, “You have a wolf?”

  Dropping down onto the other chair, he said, “Yes, I’m a wolf shifter.” He grinned. “As are you.”

  I’d watched as much TV as anyone. I knew the word, but . . . “I’ve never changed into a wolf.”

  “You wouldn’t until after your eighteenth birthday. But you’re having the dreams?”

  I nodded. A flutter ran through my stomach. I’d been having dreams for years. Even when I could hear better and smell better after a night of chasing rabbits in my mind, I still never imagined it meant what he was suggesting. Shifters weren’t real. They were just stories.

  “And you feel like your skin is too
tight some days or you snap at your fri—” He glanced around. “At the others here?”

  “Yeah,” I said, scratching my forearm where the cheap material rode up.

  “Thornbriar Academy is a place for young shifters like yourself. You can learn about your powers and how to control your abilities.”

  A wolf shifter? Me? It didn’t seem possible. And they somehow had a school? I licked my lips.

  Mr. Hastings banged on the door. “Two minutes!”

  “Listen,” Mr. Reed said. “We don’t have much time, and I need to get you out of here. Will you come with me?”

  I shook my head unsteadily. There was too much to process. I needed time to think. I already had a plan, and getting locked up in some academy wasn’t part of it.

  “Hailey, isn’t it? Surely you don’t want to stay here.” His lip curled in disgust. “You know what he plans to do with you.”

  “I do,” I said. But I would find a way out. I hadn’t gone to school since I was a kid. I’d be just as much a freak at Mr. Reed’s school as I was here. I squeezed my hands in my lap. “I can’t go with you.”

  Mr. Reed frowned, but he slipped a card from his pocket and pressed it into my hand. “That’s my number. If you change your mind.”

  The door slammed open, and Mr. Hastings glared at us from the doorway. “Humph,” he muttered. “Ten minutes, sir.”

  With a charming smile, Mr. Reed said, “Of course, of course.”

  Doe Eyes grabbed my arm and hustled me from the room. I’d been offered a rescue, and I’d declined it. I was such an idiot. I was going to have to figure out my own way. But at least I’d be dependent on no one but myself. There wasn’t anyone else I could trust.

  She dumped me back in the dormitory, and I slumped on my cot. The other girls were at recreation, thankfully. I slipped off the fancy dress and put on one of the white nightgowns. Our day wear wasn’t much different: plain cotton dresses. I suppose it had something to do with making us look more old-fashioned, like a religious charity, but I missed the feel of jeans and tee shirts. I’d kept the pink unicorn shirt I’d been wearing when I was taken under my pillow for a few years, but eventually one of the other girls had stolen it. When I complained to one of the wardens, I’d been beaten for holding on to useless things. Our life before was over, and we might as well get used to it, she’d said.