St. Sebastian's at Cravenmoor Academy Series by Eve Newton

Bodies fall like autumn leaves when you wear the Corbyn-Hale crown, and I’ve run out of white dresses to bleach. After an attempt on my life, my dad ships me to St. Sebastian's at Cravenmoor Academy. With its Gothic arches, Latin oaths, and enough mafia heirs to staff a small army, he gifts me a Viper. Twenty-five, tattooed with sins, answering only to the highest bidder. I hate cages, even the breathing kind. So I make my own rules. Rule Control the heirs... moreBodies fall like autumn leaves when you wear the Corbyn-Hale crown, and I’ve run out of white dresses to bleach. After an attempt on my life, my dad ships me to St. Sebastian's at Cravenmoor Academy. With its Gothic arches, Latin oaths, and enough mafia heirs to staff a small army, he gifts me a Viper. Twenty-five, tattooed with sins, answering only to the highest bidder. I hate cages, even the breathing kind. So I make my own rules. Rule Control the heirs. Blake Locke wears a smile sharp enough to cut throats. Rafferty Warrick drifts past guards the way poison slips past lips—quiet and fatal. Rule Keep Viper on a short leash. A man who kills without blinking shouldn’t make my pulse trip, but I’ve always loved venomous things. Rule Survive the year. Assassins lurk in lecture halls, and someone keeps slipping toxin-soaked lilies onto my pillow. Each petal is a countdown. If St. Sebs wants a queen, it will take my venom along with my blood, and when the final bell tolls, the men who circle me will I’m not the girl worth saving. I’m the empire worth burning the world down for. This is a dark contemporary romance book 1 out of 3 in a brand new reverse harem romance by USA Today Bestselling Author, Eve Newton. You will come across TWs so please see inside for details. less

The Sanctuary Statute has turned Cravenmoor from gothic university into a polished oubliette, and every heir inside is starving for power—or simply starving. I can feel the pressure rising under the stone. When an arsonist reduces our seventeenth-century library to ash, armed mercenaries ring the moat and BBC drones circle overhead like carrion. Cravenmoor is no longer an academy; it’s a pressure cooker. Good. Because I’m ready to turn up the heat.

Rival syndicates have laid siege to our walls, bribed half the porters, and trained rifles on every stained-glass window. The Sanctuary Statute still holds—and my Court, now owns every staircase. So we weaponise the curriculum. The enemy has been granted “diplomatic access” to the Garden Party, certain that British decorum will keep the croquet lawn blood-free. They forget Cravenmoor sits on flooded Roman tunnels—and that I hold every key. The academy tried to cage me. I made it my kingdom... moreRival syndicates have laid siege to our walls, bribed half the porters, and trained rifles on every stained-glass window. The Sanctuary Statute still holds—and my Court, now owns every staircase. So we weaponise the curriculum. The enemy has been granted “diplomatic access” to the Garden Party, certain that British decorum will keep the croquet lawn blood-free. They forget Cravenmoor sits on flooded Roman tunnels—and that I hold every key. The academy tried to cage me. I made it my kingdom. Kneel—or burn for extra credit. less