3. Astor
THREE
ASTOR
Ihate him the second he steps in front of the other member to toss me the sword.
His black button-down is stretched tight over his muscular arms, buttons slightly strained in his disheveled shape after rolling around on the ground.
The terrifying mask obscures most of his face, only revealing dark hair and piercing blue-and-brown eyes.
I’ve never seen anything like it. They are mostly blue, but with brown shapes carved into both.
They’re warmer than I expect a future assassin to have.
And he’s…jovial?
Seemingly delighted by our entire fight.
But I guess he’s nothing like what I’m expecting. It doesn’t seem like there is a serious bone in his body, and he’s openly flirting with me? But none of that matters, because he’s clearly messing with me. He wants to make a fool out of me, and it’s enraging.
I don’t take any of the other stuff seriously though, as lots of men like to try to emasculate others with a show of dominance. I don’t think he’s actually into guys. How could he be? Don’t those kinds of organizations have rules against being with men?
I instantly hate him. Because no matter his unusual personality for what he is, I still know the type. He’s probably never been told no. These families control half the world with their crime organizations. Or at least they’re tangentially connected to power.
This place is merely training wheels before they enter a much more dangerous playground at the Velleity. None of them have any qualms about their heinous acts. They are raised in it, and I can only assume they are used to taking whatever they want.
But I’m not here for a joy ride or a peek into how this side lives, like any other student who takes on the nearly impossible puzzle-like process of getting into Legacy.
I’m here because I have to be. Unconventional for a prince, but I’m third in line for the throne of a tiny kingdom no one has ever heard of, with an unsecured and treacherous path to succession.
If my brother is to succeed, he’ll need my protection. I’ve known this my entire life.
There are two birds to be had by going to Exitier. Being in the States gets me out of the public eye, and Legacy could provide me with valuable tools and contacts to help my brother when my uncle inevitably dies.
Everything I’ve done is for him.
I’ve given so much already, and the idea of paying a higher price twists in my gut like a three-day-old meal my stomach is trying to expel, but it’s either pay now or pay later, and later the cost will be much, much greater.
But I’d do anything for my brother.
I can’t bear to lose the other half of myself.
He’s the only one who’s kept me sane through it all.
How does anyone get into Legacy? I’ve trained in the rapier my entire life, and this savage beat me like it was a joke.
I wipe my bloody lip, already feeling the bruises he gave me, and every single one compounds the anger building in my chest. I’d never let anyone see it, but it fuels me.
I hold my head high and take my leave. If there is another way to gain entrance to the Velleity, I’ll find it. If not, I’ll prepare in other ways.
“Where are you going?” His voice is deep and commanding, but amusement colors his tone, and he’s enjoying this more than he should, confirming my assessment of him.
The question stops my retreat, but I don’t turn. I won’t show him weakness. “You beat me. I’ve failed.”
“I never said those were the rules.” He wants to keep playing with me. “If you want a chance to join, you better fucking stay.”
If I stay the torture will get worse. These are people who get off on suffering, but I’m no stranger to men who get off on torture. Monarchies are full of them.
I lock my feelings back in their vault before I turn around. “Forgive my mistake.”
“You’re forgiven, for now.” His delight flickers in his strange eyes.
Why is he so fucking happy? He’s really got to be a sick bastard getting off on all of this. I half thought it was an act to get an edge over me, but I’m starting to believe him.
Did he really think I’d leave?
Not until I get what I want. He may never have been told no, but my life revolves around turning no into yes. I’ve had to fight for every inch. I’ll fight him too, if that’s what it takes.
The rest of the prospects fight different members and those of us they decided passed are led deeper into the woods. The old-growth trees are thin but tower over us, almost completely blocking out the full moon, making it feel like we’re some cult on the way to do a ritual, and maybe we are.
We’re entirely alone out here and I wouldn’t put it past the children of spies and assassins to put down a group of incoming students. The bodies probably wouldn’t be found for some time, if ever. The expanse of the States is something I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to. Europe could never.
“Are you scared?” He slips in beside me keeping his voice low.
“Hardly.” I don’t reward him with even a glance.
“Maybe I want you to be afraid.”
Fear crawled up my throat, spreading out to choke off my words. I fight it back down, not willing to let him see me weak. “I’m sure you do.”
He turns on me, hand shooting out before I can react, closing his fingers around my throat and slamming me into a tree. “You should be scared.”
My breathing hitches. I grab his arm to fight him off, but I can’t bring myself to push him off me. His fingers bite into my neck. “Fuck you.” It’s pathetic, but it’s all I can come up with, him being this close.
“Where did you come from, little monster?” He smells like smoky oakmoss and amber, like he was meant to be under these trees.
It’s sinister and rich. But under the obvious, it’s deeper.
Tattoo ink and laughter. How someone can smell like laughter, I don’t know.
It’s taunting me, and he’s getting off on it, which makes me hate him more.
“Nowhere.” I shove at him, but only half heatedly. I don’t move him at all.
He searches my face, but I don’t know what he’s looking for. “Someone trained you. Don’t lie to me. I’ll figure it out.”
He’s going to look until he does. And he has the resources to dig.
I can’t allow him to suspect the truth so I make up a lie. “My family comes from an old Dukedom and holds on to strange traditions. So I figured I’d put them to better use. It’s not as exciting as you think.” The best lies are wrapped in truth. Hopefully it’s enough.
He considers my words, keeping me pinned as a show of dominance. “Just remember you asked for this.”
Finally he releases me.
“How do you figure?” I smooth a hand over my shirt, righting myself and regaining my control.
“You didn’t have to come.” He walks off to join his mates.
Before I can figure out what’s going on, they have us all lined up against a row of trees about five feet apart from the other recruits. We’re shoved and positioned so our backs are against the hard bark but not tied.
The leader with the Anubis mask steps forward and snaps his fingers. Hundreds of candles ignite all around us, illuminating the open space. This had to be deliberately built into the forest, because you don’t get this kind of natural clearing in a forest with trees lined as they are.
My blood turns to ice when it occurs to me what this feels like.
An execution.
It’s the perfect place for a firing squad, and the Legacy members draw straws. This must be a ruse. They are merely trying to get a rise out of us. It can’t truly be anything dangerous. The university would never allow for such things.
I keep reminding myself of that fact while the winners choose a recruit and line up across from them.
I keep my control tightly coiled in my chest. The only person who can fail me is myself, and I’ve carefully constructed my life to keep it in order.
I’ve withstood worse. As long as I keep it together, I’ll get through it. My walls are well built.
When all are chosen, the leader speaks: “There’s only one rule. Don’t move. As long as you don’t move, you’ll survive…mostly.” His deep voice booms out across the clearing, but what could he possibly mean? “If you move, you’re out. It’s as simple and as complicated as that.”
Rage flows through me. I hate games. I hate having to perform for them.
The same arsehole I fought takes the place across from me because of course he’s going to keep playing with me. He’s clearly getting off on it. He smiles with his eyes and is way less stoic than the others. He’s enjoying this too much. And why does he keep seeking me out?
“I don’t even want to see a flinch,” he threatens playfully. His voice feels intimate even across the field, like he’s whispering in my ear again.
I hate it.
I search his face. But I can’t see enough of it to discern what’s going on.
“Your choices, gentlemen?” the leader asks.
From first to last, Anubis stops before each of them and lets them choose something. But since his back is to me, I can’t make out what he’s giving them.
“Show your choices.” Anubis slips behind the line of the Legacy members, swirling his cape behind him.
They step forward in unison all carrying—weapons—they’re fucking joking.
But I know they’re not.
Dread cracks my hard exterior, and for one terrifying moment, I’m exposed to them all. I grind my teeth, working my facade back in place. I cannot let them see my anxiety.
My tormentor lifts a long bow. My stomach turns.
He holds the bow like he knows how to use it, but that doesn’t make my heart beat any more regular.
Every masked man holds a different weapon. One has a crossbow, another throwing knives, still another with an axe.
None of their choices look dulled. I’m dizzy, and my head is screaming at me to run. To do anything but stand here against this tree and let this psychopath use me as target practice.
I don’t move.
All of my training prepared me for this. If I don’t flinch in the face of any of the monsters I grew up with, I can’t now.
But my rage grows.