Chapter 11
Eleven
Vox
E ach of the Upper Six Lines took it in turns to host a party. I didn’t usually attend, unless I thought it was beneficial to whatever alliance I needed to create, or I needed to get my dick wet, or it was held by the Third Line.
Which was why I was here today. I couldn’t let the Third Line get too out of hand, couldn’t let Hayle Taeme win more people to his side. So I came to the Third Line parties, and I held court like I was royalty. I invited people to sit with me. I engaged. I was personable and friendly, sociable to a degree that I wanted to vomit at the shallowness of it all.
Looking around the room, I was surprised that Taeme wasn’t here; I could see his cousin and a few of his inner circle mingling, as well as people from every one of the other Six Lines that mattered, most of them already well on the way to being black-out levels of inebriated. Before the end of the night, Lines and alliances wouldn’t matter as they all got drunk off their faces and fucked like the Lower Lines. Like animals.
A murmur flowed through the crowd, and I tuned out what Ephily from the Fifth was droning on about on my lap, because Taeme had arrived, but not alone.
No, he’d brought three dirt scrabblers from the Twelfth, and her.
I clenched my back teeth, grinding them together, as Avalon Halhed looked around the room with wide eyes. She looked unsure of herself, but fuck, she was beautiful. She was in a dress in the style of the Twelfth Line, which might explain the other guests, but with her soft, creamy skin and her full breasts, she looked like a goddess.
I fucking hated her. Or perhaps more correctly, I hated that I wasn’t fucking her.
“What the hell, Taeme?” Eugene from the Fourth Line muttered. “These parties aren’t for them.”
Audacious of him to say that to the host of the party.
I made a mental note to talk to Eugene, especially if he got on Taeme’s bad side. The enemy of my enemy was my friend, or whatever the saying was. I dreaded it already, though, because Eugene was a boring, pretentious asshole.
Taeme’s eyes snapped to Eugene, his vicious smirk just shy of a snarl. Eugene was an idiot; he wouldn’t be able to sense the pure threat in Taeme’s stance. “What floor are you on right now, Eugene? Is it yours? No?”
Eugene just stared.
“Then shut the fuck up. I’m the Heir to the Third Line, this whole domain is mine, and I’ll invite whoever the fuck I want. Or uninvite anyone who I want. Get the fuck out.”
Eugene blustered, stuttering over his words, but Lucio Taeme just picked him up, walked him to the door of the dorm, and threw him out.
Hayle spun in a circle, meeting the gaze of every person in the room who was staring at the small group. “If anyone else has a problem, get the fuck out.” His eyes met mine, a challenge in them once more. I could fight him over this, but why bother? Having her here would just give me a better chance to fuck with Hayle.
And I didn’t give a shit about the dirt scrabblers either. I didn’t need to jockey for power like the rest of them. So I shrugged, like it meant nothing to me.
With Taeme and I in agreement, the party had no choice but to restart, and Lucio Taeme turned the music back up. “Shots!” he yelled, receiving some half-hearted cheers, and the night went on. Taeme directed the girl to the other side of the room from me, and pointed out the bar to the Twelfth Line conscripts.
Ephily crawled back into my lap. “What is Hayle thinking, inviting this trash to our parties? Look at their clothes, their hair. They don’t fit in here at all,” she tittered, and I resisted the urge to shove her off my lap. Ephily sometimes forgot she was Fifth Line, so to me—and my parents—she may as well be Twelfth. She wouldn’t be suitable for the Heir of the First Line. I was probably going to end up with someone from Fourth, or if my parents wanted to appease Third, someone from there. If they wanted to cement our place among our own people, I’d probably marry the daughter of one of the Capital diplomats.
What Ephily seemed to fail to understand as she “accidentally” ground on my dick with her ass, was that she could warm my bed, but I had little to no choice in who I married. She was still yammering on, and it was beginning to give me a headache.
Time to distract her. “I’d like a drink.”
As predicted, Ephily leapt off my lap like this one act of service was going to secure her a ring.
I watched Avalon Halhed until she was shifting around, and just to fuck with her, I wrapped a small thread of wind around her ankle, then up her calf muscle. Her eyes snapped to mine, and I hated how much I enjoyed the fire in them as she glared. I wondered how she’d look at me if I ran the wind thread a little higher.
Holding her gaze, I curled it further up her dress, twisting it around her knee, then her thigh. Her jaw clenched, her eyes turning furious. I should stop, but something about her reaction was almost addictive. The dislike in her expression that she didn’t even try to mask. Her complete lack of social etiquette. So I didn’t stop. I moved the wind thread higher, at her very upper thigh, a mere inch from her pussy.
She leapt to her feet, marching toward me. I leaned back in my chair, giving her a crooked grin. I liked her flushed cheeks, even if it was with anger. I liked the way her eyes flashed at mine.
“They really are letting anyone into these parties.” I echoed the words of Eugene. “Is there something I can help you with, Ninth?”
She glared at me. “My name is Avalon.”
I arched my brow. “I know. And you are infecting the air around me with the scent of mountain sheep shit. So I repeat, what can I help you with, Ninth?”
“You can keep your magic to your goddamn self,” she snapped.
I tilted my head and ran a small tendril of air across the seam of her panties. They were damp. “Seems to me you might like it.”
Predictably, her eyes went wide. Unpredictably, her fist snapped out and cracked me in the nose.
I roared as pain shot through my face. I could feel the splash of blood on my hands as I jumped to my feet. “You little…”
Taeme was immediately there, his eyes flashing with his beast that he kept leashed inside. At his feet were his hounds, growling with their teeth bared and saliva dripping from their maws. He stepped between me and the girl. “Make a move, Vylan,” he rumbled. “We’ll see which one of us is more powerful, once and for all.”
I scoffed, which made blood fly between us. “That isn’t even a question, Taeme.” The rest of his Line were behind him, and I didn’t even need to look behind me to know that my own Line was prepared to retaliate on my behalf. I waved a hand behind me, telling them to stand down. I’d gone too far. “Apologies, Avalon. I will keep my magic to myself until you beg me to share it.” I winked, though it hurt my face to do so.
Taeme hissed an angry noise at me, and I rolled my eyes. Fucking Third Line. Little better than animals.
Shaking my head, I looked around the crowd of people all staring at the three of us with varying levels of horror and glee at the thought of me and Hayle throwing down. Turning my back on him, I looked at Shay, my cousin and the next most powerful person in this school after Taeme and I. She was glaring at him, but gave me an equally annoyed look.
“Relax. Just a misunderstanding.” Someone handed me a pocket square, and I squeezed my nose to stop the flow of blood. It had been a decent punch, so I guess Avalon Halhed was learning something at Boellium after all. “Isn’t that right, Ninth? You wouldn’t purposefully commit treason by hurting your superior?”
Avalon’s eyes were still flashing, but she turned on her heel and moved back across the room to her Twelfth Line friends. I found her lack of bootlicking refreshing. How long had it been since someone other than Hayle Taeme and the rest of the Third Line disrespected me so thoroughly?
I grinned, and when Ephily shied away, I knew I must look like a mess. Taking the drink from where it dangled in her hand, I gulped it down. My nose stung, but I pressed a finger to the bridge, icing it so it didn’t bruise too badly. It didn’t feel broken, and I didn’t want to leave the party just yet.
The altercation had changed the vibe of the party, adrenaline now running high, and I noticed more and more people coupling up. One of the Third Line couples was already fucking against the wall, the steady thump of music muffling the girl’s moans. As if permission had been granted, the party kicked into gear, devolving into the debaucherous sexfest that it normally did.
It was inevitable, really. We worked hard, and we partied harder. Most of us would never get the choice later to choose our marital partners, and it was an unspoken agreement through the Lines that what happened at these parties stayed here. The price for running your mouth was ostracization, and I knew that in previous years, there’d been more than a few “accidents” in the training ring for those who’d opened their mouths to people they shouldn’t.
Hayle was sitting with Avalon, and whatever he was saying to her was making her laugh. But her eyes kept shifting around to couples fucking, the room getting hazy and filled with pheromones. The music was low and sensuous, made for fucking and dancing, and more than a few people were doing both right there on the makeshift dancefloor. Third Line parties always ended here faster than any other Line. Animals.
Avalon’s eyes met mine, and I grinned. I reached for Ephily, and she came willingly. “My nose hurts. Make me feel better?” Her eyes sparkled with glee as she began to kiss her way down my body, unbuttoning my shirt as she went. Her fingers scraped down my skin, and I gave myself over to the sensations.
Ephily slowly kissed her way down my abs, and I resisted the urge to push her head where I wanted it. I didn’t want or need foreplay. She undid my pants, dropping to her knees between my thighs. So pliable and eager to submit. Tedious, really.
I hated the idea that Ephily was blowing the Heir and not the man. However, she served a purpose for stress relief, and when she took my semi-hard cock in her mouth, I closed my eyes and buried my fingers in her hair. Avalon Halhed’s face popped into my mind, and despite the fact it was unfair to Ephily, I imagined it was Avalon’s mouth on my cock right now. Imagined her defiant eyes looking up at me as I fucked her face. I was suddenly rock hard and fucking Ephily’s mouth, her saliva dripping down my shaft.
“Good girl,” I growled at imaginary Avalon. She would be a good girl as she took everything I gave her.
My eyes snapped open, and I looked straight into Avalon’s, feeling them burning against my skin. I held her gaze as I blew inside Ephily’s mouth, and when Avalon dragged her eyes back to Hayle, I realized he’d been staring at me too. His expression was harder to read.
Ephily tugged on the ends of my shirt, and guilt swept through me. I looked down at her, staring up at me with stars in her eyes. She might have been using me to get a better position in society, but I’d always promised myself I wouldn’t use women the way my brothers did, the way my father did with his mistresses.
So despite the fact that I’d just imagined she was a stubborn girl from the Ninth Line—and I’d just blown in her mouth while Avalon was hatefucking me with her eyes—I pulled Ephily up onto my lap and spoke to her softly for the rest of the night, like she mattered to me. Like that blowjob had meant anything more than a quick release.
I ignored the woman across the room, ignored the way she was laughing huskily at Hayle Taeme, ignored how much I still wanted her. Because she wasn’t for me, and never could be.
If I was honest with myself, that was the real reason why I hated her so much.