Chapter 4
Chapter Four
luna
year one
Frost.
Cold.
Shivers .
Snow.
I gasp, squeezing the blanket to my chest as I fly up from the bed, my skin slick with sweat. I’m here. In a room. Alone. Locked away like Rapunzel with dar—I pause, distracted by the glow of paper near the door.
Shit.
Shoving the covers away, I crawl across the carpet so fast I’m sure my knees will have scars to show it, snatching the paper and fumbling it open.
Blonde isn’t your color.
My face falls.
Bastard. Mother fucking asshole.
I don’t swear often. In fact, I don’t think I swear much at all, but right now, I could name one thousand swear words and they all fit him. How would he know what I’d suit?
I tear the paper up and curl my arms around my legs. I spent too much time waiting for River and being a good child by not asking questions that I haven’t explored the space. But my patience is running thin, and it’s only been—frustration leaves me as a whine. I tug at the strands of my hair. Why’d I stop tracking my days? I don’t even know how many damn days I’ve been locked in this hell.
Because that’s what it is. Hell.
Movement catches the corner of my eye, and my heart skips a beat. I reach for it slowly, less enthusiasm this time since the last one pissed me off.
There’s a TV built into your bed. Are you as stupid as you look? Don’t answer that.
White noise fills my ears, and I blink up at the vanity that sits in front of the window before pushing myself to my feet. The carpet is plush on my toes when I find the pen I used, flipping it over and pressing the point down hard enough to tear the paper.
Apparently so, since I allowed my parents to talk me into the loyalty of societies and all that.
I want my hair dye. Go be a good rabbit and fetch it for me.
I finish the note and fold it neatly before slipping it beneath the door. I’ll start in a place that is easy to hide in if someone catches me. As I approach the threshold to the bathroom, the texture beneath my feet switches from soft to hard. The design is a minimalist’s dream, with cement floors that match the ceiling and walls and doorless cabinetry. I run my hand over the glass wall that offers a direct view of the endless bath of ocean. Without the blanket of darkness, the lighthouse is impossible to see, but some nights, when I’m nose deep in bubbles that smell of expensive perfume, I can see the reflection hitting the mirror.
How many secrets can one person hold in one house?
I study the oval-style bookshelf that is twisted like a beehive above the tub, ending on the ceiling. I find it interesting. But everything in this house is interesting until it’s terrifying.
I skim the base of the hive, tracing each line with my finger. “What are you?” Lines blend into thousands of spines, only not for books. DVD cases. So many cases. I pop out the first one I see, flipping the sleek black velvet case over to the back.
Sighing, I slide it back into its spot and take a careful step back, colliding with a hard wall that wasn’t there before. My skin prickles and I spin around, colliding with the smirking face of a certain “nice boy” with a filthy heart.
“You scared me!” Backing up, I slide onto the counter to put distance between us.
“Really? I haven’t even tried…” he teases, moving to the other side of the room while undoing the first two buttons of his shirt behind a smirk. The fabric falls off his body, exposing the muscles in his back that pull over broad shoulders.
My throat turns dry. “How’d you both get so big? Is War the same?”
“Nah…” He flashes me a wide grin. “He’s not as big.”
I bite my bottom lip. Out of all the things to ask after not seeing him or Priest since the night I found myself here, I choose his physique to talk about. Lame.
“Listen.” His tone dips. Maybe they won’t lock me in here alone. What if they put someone in here with me?
Wait. What if it was with Priest…
In that case, I’d prefer to be alone.
“I’m not going to do the things to you that I’m supposed to do, based on history. Had you been here on my grandfather’s clock, he would have toyed with you until you wanted to kill yourself, and if you were around on Dad’s, he would have just killed you and called it a day so that he could go back to making a slave out of my mother. But me?” I pause, eager to hear his next words. He curls his thumb beneath the H on his belt buckle. “I’m not interested in that. You just so happened to get the nice King.”
My laughter dies a tedious death. I wince. “Sorry. It’s just that, there are no nice Kings.”
“True…” He swipes a toothbrush, biting it into his mouth. “But I’m about as nice as they come, and trust me when I say, you’re lucky you got me when you did.” He scrubs his teeth, spitting out the paste and gesturing to the beehive behind him. “Just watch any of those and you’ll see why.” I don’t have to. Vitiosis translates to Vicious in Latin. Each last name in the EKC has meaning.
“Why would my mother send me here?” It’s more to myself, but I rest against the mirror, swallowing past the ache in my throat. I will not cry. I’ve never cried in my life and I’m not about to start today.
Vaden stops brushing. “Because your mother and Fathers understand the worlds we live in, even if you don’t. You weren’t raised the same way the rest of us kids were, and I’m guessing your mom wanted you to go off with your circus family.”
Memories flicker of Mom forcing me to try every stunt I could in an effort to see where my talent was. Midnight Mayhem isn’t a circus, and they don’t simply perform. They require a specific set of sorcery from you to even be considered partaking.
I never had it.
Maybe they were right. Maybe I was meant to be here, since I’m old enough to know where I’ll be assigned. If I couldn’t be in Midnight Mayhem, what was I to do?
Nothing.
I was useless. It was that or be outlawed. I guess this was Mom’s way of keeping me within a family.
“But you will.” He places his toothbrush into the holder. I should ask why it’s there and whether he’s staying, but he draws closer, his hip skimming my knees. He’s almost a foot taller than me, even sitting on the counter.
My mind goes blank when his knuckles graze my cheek. “…but he will not be so kind…”
My eyes pop open. “What?”
Tension snaps through the air and he drops his arm to the side as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Without moving his attention from me, he turns over his shoulder, revealing Priest.
He’s glaring at Vaden. “You done?”
The hostility is too tight to brush off, even with Vaden’s attempt at smirking his way out of it.
“One year down.” Vaden brushes his lips over the side of mine. “How many more to go?”
“A year!” I shove Vaden away, following Priest back into the bedroom. It’s obvious now. The way they both seem so much bigger, taller, and wider. As if they absorbed the time that passed and used it to juice their muscle.
Priest glares at Vaden again, but Vaden only replies with his signature Cheshire grin. As if they’re sharing some weird joke. This is probably all a game.
“You once asked what you were doing here.” He bends down and slides out a satin box from beneath the bed, before pushing it toward me with his foot.
“I did.” I look between him and the box, before lowering myself down. Velvet meets my palm as I run my hand over it.
He hunches down to my eye level, hooking his finger beneath my chin. “And what is it that you think you’re doing here? Does it anger you that you don’t know? Are you bored?”
Anticipation has his pupils ballooning wide.
“Bored? Yes. Angry? No.”
His eyes narrow, his shoulders turning stiff. Is he disappointed with my answer?
I lose myself in the vein that travels up the side of his neck and disappears beneath his jawline. He slowly raises to his full height while keeping his eyes on me. “For the years that you’re here, you simply will not exist. Vaden…”
“What do you mean?”
He ignores me, moving to the other side of the room. A cold draft prickles down my spine, and I look between them both.
“You didn’t tell me what happens!” I call out past the swell of my throat. I don’t have time to be sad. I have time to be anything else but sad.
Vaden’s expression is like a punch to the gut. His usual flirtatious smirk and playful energy vaporizing as more seconds pass. It’s bad.
I fall backwards, landing on my butt as Vaden disappears through the open bedroom door. Priest stares back at me, his distance as clear as ever. Reality shifts around me. What if this is all a trap for me? The bed. The clock above the bed. Beehive. The window. The fucking carpet! This room is here for me. Only for me.
This is bad.
My shoulders straighten as I lift my eyes back to Priest. A face too beautiful to cover a soul so dark. Is it true what River said? Will he kill me? I don’t know anything about Priest, only that he’s the quietest one in the group.
He takes three steps toward me, placing his hand out between us. Am I willing to find out and get lost with him? Will it still be an adventure if I lose a part of myself on the way, or would it just be a tragedy…
I take his hand like a lamb being led to slaughter, and he uses it to gently lift me from the floor. A kindling of fire bristles against my veins and my heart stutters in my chest.
This is pure madness.