5. Chapter 5
Alexi
You’d think coming home would put a smile on my face.
The road curves beside the ocean like a dream.
Water stretches to the horizon, glittering under the afternoon sun, while palm trees sway in the breeze.
Their shadows slide across perfectly paved streets that lead toward pristine white resorts and rooftop pools where wealthy Vail tourists sip neon cocktails and convince themselves they’ve discovered paradise.
If I only focus on that side of the view, I can almost pretend I’m coming home to something beautiful.
But the smell ruins the illusion every time.
Even with the windows rolled up, it seeps into the car. Sweet at first, before the sour edge underneath it settles in. Like fruit left too long in the sun. Rot wrapped in sugar.
The scent sticks to the back of my throat, familiar and impossible to ignore.
Lust looks like paradise if you stay on the beach. Step two streets inland and the mask slips.
Across the road from the glittering coastline, the actual city sprawls out in cracked pavement and flooded alleyways. Trash floats through standing water that never quite drains. Broken glass catches the sunlight like tiny mirrors. Needles glint in the street gutters.
The resorts along the coast rise like a wall—tall, gleaming towers positioned so their guests never have to see what sits behind them.
A beautiful lie protecting a rotting city.
I rest my head against the passenger window and watch the ocean blur past.
For most of my life, I thought the academy would be my way out of this place. It’s the dream every kid in Lust grows up believing. Climb high enough and you escape decay. Bigger houses. Better views. The power to ascend so high above the streets that their smell becomes a distant memory.
Of course, nobody talks about the price of that climb.
You sell pieces of yourself along the way until there’s not much left to bargain with. I should have known the academy wouldn’t be any different.
My gaze drifts toward Thomas in the driver’s seat as he steers us down the coastal highway. A year ago, this ride would’ve been loud.
Thomas never shuts up when he’s relaxed. He fills the silence with stories about parties, women, whatever ridiculous scheme his den is running that week. I’m right there with him, laughing and throwing fuel on the fire. Pointing out all the holes in his ridiculous stories of conquest.
Now the quiet between us feels heavier than the ocean air. Things have changed.
My den sent me to the academy with a simple goal: get close to Ryker. Strengthen the alliance between his people in Greed and my den back home. Expand influence. Secure power.
And I did what they asked.
Ryker’s posse opened their circle easily enough.
I know how to say the right things, laugh at the right jokes, and make myself useful without looking like I’m trying too hard.
I was trained for this. But my time with Ryker and his questionable academy politics put a wall up between my friends and me.
A high-end boutique with gold lettering across its windows draws my attention as we hit a stoplight. A man is crouched close to the dumpster. He rolls his sleeve up and ties his arm off with a dirty strip of cloth. Then he searches for a vein like it’s a treasure map.
The shop window beside him displays silk dresses worth more than most families in this district make in a year.
No one inside seems to notice him.
Or maybe they’re just good at pretending not to.
At first, it was just strategy with Ryker. Draw him in with my charisma, the same way the design of the boutique draws in the wealthy.
Then it became something else.
My thoughts drift—as they always seem to lately—to a girl with sharp blue eyes and a stubborn mouth.
Arwen.
Just thinking about her tightens something deep in my chest. The bond almost feels normal now. Like an uncomfortable side effect that you learn to live with.
It snapped into place during the ceremony before I even realized what was happening. One moment I was sitting there like everyone else, the next it felt like something inside my chest had detonated silently as a small redhead walked across the stage with her head down.
Thankfully, I was so in shock that I didn’t make a sound. And neither did she.
Lust’s don’t bond.
Bodies are currency here. Commitment belongs to your den. Hearts aren’t really part of the equation. I doubt any of us in this shithole even have a heart.
Movement catches my eye as we slow down in traffic. Above us on a patio facing the inner city, a woman is bent over the railing. A heavy weigh man pounds into her from behind, eyes rolling to the back of his head in ecstasy.
The second woman on the patio has her nose pressed to a table as her tits spill out of her bikini.
A billboard directly above them shows a smiling man and woman posing with 3 kids, all in matching clothes. The sign lights up in bright words, “Family Friendly!”
Damien takes his foot off the breaks as we inch forward.
After the ceremony, I told myself I was only watching her because Ryker had taken an interest. That keeping an eye on her was just another way to stay useful.
But somewhere along the way it got harder to pretend and ignore the truth.
One moment she was just the girl I’d been observing from the edge of Ryker’s circle.
The next she was under my skin.
I expected her to fold to Ryker’s charms immediately. Suck all the power and attention up that he gave her. She certainly needs someone in her corner of his caliber.
Unfortunately, the universe enjoys a good joke because I’m not the only one tied to her.
After her trial at the end of the semester, the rumors spread faster than wildfire. The bond ceremony had not only linked her to me but also linked her to Atticus Willshire. The ‘Golden Heir’ of Pride. Future Council seat. The kind of man whose name already carries weight in every faction.
As if that wasn’t absurd enough, Ryker claimed his father said a proximity bond formed during the trial itself.
Maddox West.
Another Councilor’s son and one of the most dangerous gang leaders in Gluttony.
And then there’s me.
“Look at the size of those jewels,” Thomas mumbles, nodding his head towards his window. I lean forward as a couple steps out of a polished restaurant entrance, laughing as they stumble toward a waiting car. Diamonds flash at the woman’s throat when she tilts her head back to laugh.
Ten feet away, a kid no older than eight digs through an overflowing trash can beside the building, probably searching for edible leftovers.
No one pays any attention to him.
The light turns green, and we keep driving.
Let’s be honest. Compared to Atticus and Maddox, I barely register. They’d be the diamonds that draw all the attention. I’d be the kid on the side of the road digging through trash.
My power may impress those around here, but at the academy, I’m just another pretty face from a city that sells pleasure like it’s a commodity.
In Lust, power comes from desirability. From how easily you can charm, seduce, entertain. From how willingly you sell pieces of yourself to climb higher.
When I left for the academy, I felt untouchable. My den sits high enough in Lust’s hierarchy that most people treated me like minor royalty.
If I wanted something—or someone—I got it.
But the academy has a way of reminding you where you stand in Vail.
I’m not important.
I’m just… convenient. A body filling space behind someone far more significant.
My gaze drifts back to take in the ocean as we get closer to home.
The official story is that she was exiled to the wastes after the trial, but I don’t believe that.
Not when Atticus disappeared the same night. Not when Maddox vanished too.
Two of the most powerful heirs in Vail don’t just wander into the Wastes and quietly die. Which means there’s a good chance the three of them are somewhere together.
The thought twists in my chest.
They’re probably holed up somewhere in Gluttony right now, somewhere luxurious and protected. Enjoying their new bonds.
Maybe she’s already forgotten the quieter bond that formed at the ceremony.
I doubt Arwen Davies ever mentioned me. Why would she?
Compared to Atticus Willshire and Maddox West, I barely deserve the conversation. Not even to mention Ryker’s fixation…
Arwen is probably better off without me.
The car turns off the coastal road and deeper into the city. The polished resorts disappear behind us, replaced by sagging buildings, barred windows, and flickering neon signs advertising things no one should be proud to sell.
I breathe in through my nose and regret it.
That rotten sweetness is stronger here. Familiar. Home.
I watch the dirty streets of Lust slide past the window and shake my head.
Yeah…
Arwen is definitely better off without me.