The breaking period: Day 2, hour 14
“Egan,” Malum snapped loudly.
I jerked awake, banging my head on the table. The harsh motion made my broken arm scream with pain.
“I’ll slit your throat,” I replied automatically, still partially in a dreamlike state. I always woke up homicidal. It was embarrassing how many times I’d woken up choking the life out of Sadie or one of the girls.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Malum leaned across the table in front of me, silver eyes flickering with the shadows of the red flames that leaped across his arms.
Plates were overflowing with food, and the men were still shoving their faces with ridiculous portions.
The hall buzzed with laughter and talk.
From the hands on the clock, I’d only gotten about thirty minutes of sleep. Fuck.
I felt sick.
Rubbing my eyes with my nonaching arm, I groaned with despair.
Scorpius sneered beside him and ran his long fingers through his slicked-back, perfect hair. “Pretty boy clearly has a death wish.”
I groaned again but didn’t argue, too busy feeling miserable and exhausted.
“It’s not personal.” John chuckled beside me, but his eyes were tight like he was faking it. “When I woke our Aran up from the two-hour nap, he tried to wrestle me into a choke hold and promised to ‘skin me alive.’”
“Sorry about that,” I mumbled.
I’d woken up from our two-hour sleep with my fingers around John’s throat. At least he’d been warm.
Unlike Sadie, who liked to grapple for dominance (she always lost; let’s be real), John had just arched a dark brow and smiled. Then he’d easily slammed me back onto my cot and detangled himself.
He had said nothing afterward, and that worked for me.
This was the shit Dr. Palmer said would come back to bite me. Digging my good hand into my pocket, I took out my smaller pipe and took a long drag.
Instantly, I felt calmer.
Relaxation settled through me.
I was fine.
Horace moved his chair with a squeak, and I screamed at the sudden loud noise.
I wasn’t fine.
Malum chewed slowly on a piece of steak and said, “You’ve got a lot of problems, don’t you, pretty boy?”
He had one of his arms draped over Orion’s chair, and his thumb was trailing slowly over the flower tattoo on the blond man’s throat.
He’d traced that callused thumb in a similar pattern across my neck. My lower stomach pinched, and the wound on my back burned.
Is Orion looking at me?
Pipe between my lips, I inhaled slowly and stared down at the table. There was no scenario where the gorgeous fae with chocolate-brown eyes ended up being mine.
I needed to concentrate on being a toxic dude with a dick.
Grabbing the pitcher of ale at the table, I tipped back and chugged. Sticky beer running down my throat, I slammed the glass down and let out a rumbling burp.
“Fuck yeah.” John high-fived me, and I grinned back at him.
Sixty percent bruh. Thirty percent dude. Ten percent fuckboy. Those were Aran’s stats, and I was embracing them.
I grimaced as I wiped ale off my lips. The aftertaste was rancid; how did anyone ever choose beer over wine?
Scorpius stared at my lips with disgust as I wiped at the sticky substance.
He said to Malum, “Egan’s probably crumbling because he’s never had to work hard a day in his life.”
I shook my head and sighed as I pushed my food back and forth across my plate. “Bruh. You wouldn’t survive a day in my life.”
Faster than I could track, Scorpius lunged and slammed my unbroken hand against the table. Plates clattered around us, and the other recruits turned to watch.
“Let me go, you pale fucking weirdo.” I yanked my arm back, but his long fingers were a vise around my much smaller wrist.
Scorpius tightened his grip. “First, I’m not your anything. You can call me sir, my lord, or master.” His other hand traced slowly across my fingers.
My breath caught.
For a second, it looked like yellow sparks were leaping between our hands.
“Second,” Scorpius sneered slowly. “You haven’t worked a day in your life, pretty boy. There isn’t a single callus on these soft hands.”
His rough fingers danced slowly along my palm as milky white eyes looked off in the distance.
The more powerful the species, the harder it was to have scars or calluses. The skin on Scorpius’s fingers was broken and scratchy. So were Malum’s.
I looked down at my hands with surprise. But it made sense.
Being lit on fire didn’t leave marks. And in the shifter realm, we’d done hand-to-hand combat, running, and fighting with enchanted guns.
I’d never had to do anything that tore apart my hands. Not consistently enough to counter my fast healing.
Scorpius kept mindlessly trailing his long fingers across my palms.
Mother’s words taunted me. “You’re a spoiled princess who doesn’t understand anything about the world. Someday you’ll thank me for doing this. Now don’t be a brat, and take it.”
Was I spoiled?
My childhood flashed before me: flames, torture, isolation, cruel taunts, beatings, crying, running away, and terror. Nah.
Jinx’s voice sneered in my mind, “Wow, letting your dead mother gaslight you, Aran. That’s even more pathetic than usual.”
Lately I’d been thinking about Jinx more and more.
There was something about a twelve-year-old tearing you to shreds that gave you perspective.
I realized Scorpius was no longer restraining me, and we were both staring off as he caressed my hand.
Yanking my hand away, I cradled it to my chest. “Some experiences don’t leave calluses. I’m not pampered.”
“Enlighten us,” Malum demanded, and he made a show of putting his other arm around Scorpius’s chair so he was holding both of them. He was staking his claim.
Whatever. My fictional man would destroy you.
I pushed food back and forth with my fork. “Trust me, you don’t want to know. I’d have to kill you.”
“Why?” Orion whispered so quietly I barely heard it. His full lips were slightly parted as he took a bite of food.
The table was silent as the kings waited for my answer. Even John had turned to give me his full attention, and the demons were leaning closer.
Because I’m the wanted fae princess who became the fae queen by brutally eating her mother’s heart. I’m wanted by millions of fae. Also, I’m a girl in disguise and lying to you. I’m not fae at all and have no clue who my father is. Or what I am.
I swallowed thickly and lamely said, “Just kidding.”
“No. You will explain,” Malum snarled, and fire crackled higher atop his shaved head.
He sat directly in front of me, and the brutal symmetry of his face was slightly overwhelming. Harsh angles framed almond eyes and a thick brow.
The girl in me couldn’t help but rate him.
Eight out of ten for looks. Negative one thousand out of ten for personality.
Malum was handsome in a way that was meaner looking than any of Sadie’s men. The neck tattoo of a dagger screamed, “I am toxic.”
Orion’s tongue darted out as he licked the ale off his lips, and I had to force myself not to stare at him with moon eyes.
Fifteen out of ten for looks. Undecided on personality.
Scorpius twirled the steak knife through his long fingers with a deftness that spoke of extreme control and skill. Only an idiot would think he was held back by his blindness. His masterful control of his other senses was terrifying.
Eight out of ten for looks. Negative two thousand out of ten for personality.
Malum was the harsh leader who ruled with brute force, but something told me Scorpius’s cruelty and sneering was a front. A disguise that hid an even bigger monster.
I studied the men for so long that my enchanted wound started to ache. It was a good reminder of why it didn’t matter how attractive any male was.
Dragging my hands over my forehead, I sighed. “Please, I just have anger issues. There’s nothing else to say.”
The kings and John stared at me in silence as they ate.
After an endless moment—where I was sure Malum was going to throw his chair back and beat me over the head with it until he uncovered my secrets—Scorpius broke the silence by sneering at me.
“You need to eat. You’re acting like a pampered fool who’s never had to fuel himself to survive.”
I couldn’t help myself. “And how do you know I’m not eating, Scorp? It’s not like you can see my plate.”
Scorpius’s upper lip curled back. “Because, Egan, I can fucking hear. You’ve been snoring the entire meal. And when you’re not snoring, you’re running your mouth. You haven’t chewed once. So why don’t you shut the fuck up and eat?”
I shoved a piece of lettuce into my mouth and smacked my lips obnoxiously. “I’m eating.”
After three minutes of my choking it down pathetically, Malum interrupted my struggle by pushing a heaping plate of food in front of me. He’d been piling stuff onto it since I’d woken up, and I’d thought he was just going for fourths.
“What is this?” I pushed it away from me with horror. It was covered in meat.
Malum’s eyes flashed, and I wondered how long it would take before he lit me on fire. “That’s your fucking meal, Egan. All the recruits have to eat at least two full plates if they’re going to survive training. We eat irregularly, so when we get to eat, you have to eat a lot.”
“I don’t eat meat.” I pushed my pipe into my mouth and inhaled the calming smoke.
A muscle in Malum’s jaw jumped, and Scorpius scoffed.
Orion shook his head, brilliant blonde hair shining in the light.
His hair reminded me of Xerxes’s. But where the omega’s hair was yellow blond and hanging to his butt, Orion’s was white blond and straight to his shoulders.
It was pretty.
I pushed the meat back and forth across my plate and tried not to gag at the scent. I wasn’t eating meat.
Never again.
The problem was I’d grossly miscalculated just how unwell the kings were.
“Hold him down,” Malum suddenly snarled at Vegar, who was sitting next to me silently.
Before I could blink, the demon wrapped his hands around my shoulders and held me down with freakish strength.
“What the fuck, Vegar?”
Black veins trailed across his cheeks, and the demon just shrugged as he pushed my chest against the table.
That was the only warning I got.
Malum lunged across the table and shoved a forkful of food into my mouth. I gagged at the sudden intrusion and tried to spit it back at him.
“John, hold his jaw shut,” he snarled and glared at my best friend.
John grabbed my face and squeezed so I couldn’t do anything but choke down the food. His dark eyes were sad as he whispered, “Sorry, Aran. It’s for your own good. If you don’t eat, you won’t survive training.”
I glared at him as I swallowed thickly, and my stomach burned with nausea and betrayal.
“Open his fucking mouth,” Malum demanded again, and John’s fingers pried my mouth open.
So much for friendship.
The massive hall fell quiet as everyone turned to stare at the assassin table, where the leader of the kings was force-feeding the newest recruit.
If I could cry, I probably would have.
Instead, I death glared at Malum and let him know with my eyes that I was going to rip him to shreds.
If he noticed or cared, it didn’t stop him from shoving the fork between my lips.
Scorpius smirked next to him and kept adding food to the overflowing plate. Orion did nothing but watch me.
For the first time, I felt like my monster.
Our interests were aligned.
I gagged and gagged as more food, which included disgusting meat, was shoved down my throat. The men were so massive they easily overpowered me. I was helpless.
The meat tasted like my mother’s heart.
Juices dripping down my lips.
Chunks of gore in my throat.
Tangy copper.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the plate was empty, and Malum sat back into his seat with a triumphant expression on his cruel face.
His voice was rough and low. “This is my assassin program. If you want to survive, you’ll do everything I say when I say it. This isn’t a democracy. I’m a fucking king, and I will be treated as such. Do you understand, Egan?”
My legs trembled with rage as I stood up.
I leaned across the table.
Intent on my action.
Long fingers tangled in my short, curly hair and wrenched my head back. Scorpius had also stood up, and once again he pulled my head back at an impossible angle.
What was the fucker’s issue with my hair?
Scorpius used his height to hold me immobile. My hips dug uncomfortably into the side of the table as he towered over me.
“Don’t you fucking dare throw up on him. I’ll take you back to the tank myself.”
How did Scorpius know exactly what I was planning to do?
I trembled with anger.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with, Egan,” he sneered dangerously, then flung me backward with so much force that my chair clattered to the ground beside me on the floor.
Broken arm screaming with pain, I dragged myself back into my chair. Chest heaving, I stared down at the table and refused to look at any of the men.
John shuffled uncomfortably beside me, but I didn’t look over at him. He’d betrayed me.
They all fucking sucked.
I was going to make them pay. Someday, they’d regret how they treated me.
With my head lowered, the next hour passed in a blur of nausea as I rode out the pain of an overly full stomach and the taste of Mother’s heart in my mouth.
I sat with the other recruits in a small classroom as we waited for Lothaire to enter.
Malum had ordered us all to go to the classroom after the horrible meal.
From what I could gather, Lothaire informed Malum about the daily plan, and he was in charge of ensuring we showed up on time.
Malum was our leader.
I’d never felt less like following someone.
Suddenly, the classroom door flung open, and Lothaire stalked into the room with Lyla following gracefully behind him.
The witch’s green hair shone like emeralds, and white runes glowed across her dark skin.
Lothaire looked at me. “Every few days, Lyla works with us to ensure you’re well enough to perform at your highest.”
He narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe our wellness mattered. “Most importantly, she reads the aura of each recruit and lets you know your biggest weakness. What’s holding you back from being your best.” Lothaire snapped his fingers. “Stand in a line, recruits, and show some fucking respect to her for having to deal with your miserable asses.”
“Yes, sir,” we chorused back and shuffled quickly into a line.
I made sure I was last because I didn’t want to give the kings my back. Who knew what type of shit they’d do when I wasn’t looking.
One by one, Lyla inspected the men with her glowing hands.
Apparently, Horace was blood deficient and needed to drink another pint. Lothaire pulled out a bag of blood from beneath the front desk and handed it to him.
Who kept bags of blood in a classroom?
Creeps. That was who.
Vegar and Zenith had hairline fractures in various places, and Lyla held her hands over those spots on their bodies until she was satisfied that they’d healed.
John’s body temperature was dangerously low, and Lyla chanted in Latin until his pale cheeks regained their healthy olive flush.
The three kings were completely fine, which made my petty ass seethe with annoyance. Not a single broken bone or latent sexually transmitted disease.
It was official.
There was no god in the realms.
Finally, it was my turn.
For a long moment, Lyla trailed her glowing hands across the air in front of my body, and her emerald eyes bore into me like she could see my black soul.
I shifted back and forth under her piercing gaze.
Lyla’s perfectly shaped dark eyebrow lifted slightly, and it was the most outward emotion I’d ever seen her express.
I swallowed thickly.
She kept staring.
For some reason, I knew in my bones that she saw every single one of my secrets.
My stomach dropped. Was this it? Would she out me and sign my death warrant?
Her lips parted. “Severe hypothermia. Arm broken in four places. Cracked femur. Internal organ damage, and…”
I held my breath, certain she was about to say, “He’s a she.”
“Severe psychological trauma.”
A manic giggle bubbled up my throat, and I couldn’t swallow it in time. The last one I could have told her for free.
The leg part was a little surprising.
I’d noticed a slight pain when I walked and wondered why my leg hurt. It was probably from one of the many times I’d been shoved to the ground.
Was it the ocean, run, baton, monster, tank, beating, or the public force-feeding? So much to choose from.
The room was uncomfortably silent as the other recruits gaped at me, and even Lothaire narrowed his eyes like he was surprised I wasn’t complaining.
What did they want me to do, cry about it?
The white light on Lyla’s hands shed warmth as the pentagon runes on her skin glowed brighter.
Her hands lingered on my arm, stomach, and leg for a while.
Searing pain split through me with such ferocity that I barely swallowed my scream.
Lyla chanted louder as her Latin words transformed into another language, one I’d never heard before.
Knees trembling, it took all my willpower not to collapse as she kept giving attention to my wounds.
Finally, she pulled away, and the agony stopped rocking through me.
She’d healed all my wounds, except for the constant dull ache that pulsed through the wound on my back.
Still. It was better than nothing.
Lyla stood in front of me with a blank expression back on her serene face.
“Thank you,” I whispered reverently and infused my words with everything I couldn’t say.
I knelt before her and bowed my head.
She lightly patted the top of my head like she understood I was thanking her for not outing me, for keeping my secret.
Lothaire’s harsh voice broke the moment. “Aran, you will wear thermal compression wear under your clothes at all times, do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded and took my seat like the rest of the recruits.
“You will also eat more at every meal until you’re no longer pathetic and scrawny.”
I gritted my teeth and said, “Yes, sir.”
No one had ever called me scrawny in my life, and it was only because the other men were built like tanks.
It wasn’t fair.
It also didn’t slip my attention that Lothaire had ignored doing anything about my severe mental trauma.
No wonder he’d crawled into bed with Mother.
They both thought physical violence was the only acceptable solution.
Lothaire pointed to the witch. “Lyla will now read your auras, an ancient practice that is more than some of you deserve.” He lingered on me when he spoke, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him.
He really was annoyingly dramatic. I mean, it was obvious when he’d started demanding the “yes, sirs,” but it still surprised me how aggressive he was.
Did he ever just chill?
Have any hobbies besides torture?
I couldn’t see it.
“Your fear for Vegar holds you back, and it will do nothing but hurt him,” Lyla said to Zenith.
She moved to the next desk and said to Vegar, “You’re too dependent on Zenith.”
The demons stared back at her with sullen faces.
Lyla turned to Horace and said, “Your lack of empathy will doom you. You will be destroyed by a close friend if you continue to not care about others.”
Horace glowered at the witch.
I’d bet all the fae palace riches that Horace was a dead man walking. You didn’t fuck around with a witch’s prophecy.
And since you could see in his eyes that he didn’t give a single fuck about anyone but himself, he was so dead. Good.
The real question was, who would ever befriend such a jerk?
When Lyla got to the kings, she spoke to all three of them and paused for a while.
Then she said, “You’re incomplete and will never be what you need to be until you’re whole. You will never serve him properly if you can’t find your missing fourth.”
Her green eyes glowed brightly as she spoke.
Scorpius scowled, Malum squeezed his fist, and Orion slumped his shoulders like he was defeated.
John had talked about them having a secret mission for Lothaire. Was that the “him” they were serving?
What type of psychotic man could ever earn Malum’s respect and be their fourth? I couldn’t see it.
My musings were interrupted when Lyla moved in front of John and said, “You are split in two. You must find balance, or they will tear you apart.”
Maybe he’s split in two because John is also a girl in disguise?
I swallowed down a chuckle at the ridiculous image of John in heels. Nah, he couldn’t pull it off.
John shifted uncomfortably and looked away as his dark eyes glittered with some intense emotion.
I was still mad at him for obeying the kings and holding my face, but something about the way his body tightened with tension made me want to ask him if he was all right.
One second, John was jovial and sweet, and the next, he was radiating danger. That was probably what Lyla was referring to.
Even if I was mad at him, I didn’t want to see him torn apart.
I thought back to how we’d slept side by side with our arms entwined for warmth. And he hadn’t admonished me for trying to choke him in his sleep.
He was becoming my friend.
John slumped lower in his chair, and I awkwardly patted his back. He looked up at me and flashed a dimple, and I was glad I’d extended the olive branch.
But now it was my turn.
As Lyla stood in front of me, my heart rate went through the roof. I rubbed my clammy hands across my pants.
Please don’t out me. Please don’t reveal my secrets.
“You will not be who you need to be until you embrace the dragon.”
What?
In my peripheral vision, Malum reared back like he’d been hit, then whispered something to Scorpius.
Sun god, talk about confusing.
An awful sensation squeezed my gut. Technically, I knew a dragon. The half warrior Demetre’s alpha form was a dragon, but he was the man who’d betrayed me to Mother.
I was going to be sick.
Maybe the dragon is symbolic of something else? It better be.
Malum looked over at me and glared with vehemence like I’d done something yet again to offend him.
I itched my nose with my middle finger.
Lothaire clapped his hands, and I whipped my hand down before he could beat me with his baton.
Malum’s silver eyes promised death and pain.
“Thank you, Lyla,” Lothaire said as the witch exited the room like she hadn’t just eviscerated all of us. “Now we have one more announcement. Our other instructors this year have been away completing a mission for me. However, things are not progressing as expected.” His scar pulled tight as he scowled.
Their mission seemed important, and Lothaire was clearly not happy about it.
He continued, “As a result of some unanticipated obstacles, they’re going to split their time between their mission and training your sorry asses. I’m pleased to introduce three of this academy’s most successful assassins. For the last two centuries, they’ve served me and successfully infiltrated the fae monarchy. They’ve gathered political support in the region and are experts at espionage.”
The door opened.
Three men stalked inside.
The room tilted, and my white-knuckle grip on the desk was the only thing that kept me from falling out of my chair.
“Demetre, Noah, and Shane will be helping me train.”
I roughly swallowed down the scream that burned my throat.
What were the odds that just after Lyla told me I needed a dragon, a literal dragon shifter walked into the room?
The three reasons I had an enchanted slur carved into my back stood before me.
“We’re excited to see what you can do.” Demetre’s pink eyes flashed as he smirked at us.
Noah and Shane nodded, and their orange mohawks were bright against their dark skin, green eyes gleaming like snakes.
My first true friends.
The men who’d turned into my worst enemies.
The three men who’d dragged me from the fae sex clinic and thrown me at my mother’s feet.
The half warriors were my new teachers.
I needed harder drugs.
