The beginning: Shackles—Day 5, hour 3
“You’re disgusting,” I groaned.
John’s powerful thighs took up the width of my bed as he knelt before me, making indecent gestures.
He raked a hand through his messy brown hair and smirked. He was clearly still Dr. Jekyll. Thank the sun god.
Then he punched me in the middle of my chest.
My heart temporarily flatlined, and I yelped as I fell backward.
John moved quickly and straddled my hips, the heat from his crotch burning where it pressed against my stomach.
His face hovered inches from mine.
“I’m your best friend,” he said, as his dark eyes glinted with an intense emotion. “You’re still the person I’ve trained and fought beside for months. Still the person I sat next to at meals. Still the weirdo who refuses to eat meat and chokes people in their sleep.” He stared at my mouth. “Never doubt that we’re besties.”
My heart burned with emotions.
It also burned from the giant hematoma on my sternum that his knuckles had caused.
“Okay,” I whispered.
John leaned closer and flashed a dimple. “Did I not promise you I’d dispose of a body if you asked me to?”
I sighed. “Yes. You did.”
His nose brushed against mine as he asked, “And did you not kill someone three days ago? Did I not dispose of them without asking questions?”
“You did,” I whispered. “I think? What actually happened to the body?”
Dark eyes glanced down at my lips. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”
“Tell me.”
“Aran.” His lips hovered centimeters from mine, and I could taste his minty breath. “You can’t handle my secrets.”
“What do you mean?” I breathed into his mouth.
John straightened his wide shoulders and pulled away. “Don’t worry your cute little head.” He ruffled my curls aggressively. “My little depressed, angry Smurf.”
I forgot how to breathe.
He was kneeling atop me wantonly, but he was acting casual like it was perfectly acceptable for him to straddle me.
Was this normal friend behavior?
I’d always thought of John as a friend. The special kind that you snuggled in bed with and held on to for dear life as you drowned in the ocean for hours.
I’d grouped him in with Sadie, but there was a problem.
I was bizarrely aware of the fact that he wasn’t a woman; he was an extremely handsome six-foot-five supernatural assassin.
John was definitely treating me differently than he had when I was disguised as a boy.
There was an unfamiliar edge in his eyes.
The way he looked at me.
It made me squirm.
I cleared my throat and tried to appear relaxed. “You still haven’t told me what type of creature a Smurf is. Also, I’m almost your height, so I’m not little.”
I flexed my arms.
Sadie was short and petite. I was tall and strong, and there was nothing little about me.
John chuckled, and I felt the vibrations in my groin.
Pain streaked across my back with such intensity that I barely heard him say, “Please, I have half a foot on you. You’re girly and adorable with your big blue eyes and hair, a little Smurf princess.”
His hand was resting on my thigh, and he absentmindedly drew circles with his thumb.
The maroon rays of the eclipse wrapped around John in a hazy glow.
Everything took on a dreamlike quality.
Warm feelings of friendship were twisting in my lower gut and becoming something more.
Something dangerous.
Streaks of pain lit up my back where “WHORE” was carved into my skin.
Whatever was happening between us needed to stop.
“Actually.” I pivoted the conversation by flipping my hair over my shoulder and pretended to put lip gloss on with my middle finger. “It’s Queen. Why does everyone keep calling me Princess?”
John laughed as he punched me in the gut. “Calm down.”
The pivot worked.
I punched him back. Harder.
The weird tension between us dissipated as we beat the shit out of each other like we always did.
After a light spat of arm wrestling (fourteen rounds later, we were evenly tied), John pinned me to the mattress and asked, “Did you really think I was going to treat you differently just because you’re a girl?”
My stomach flip-flopped.
I flexed and rolled so I was on top.
John punched me in the kidney and used my momentary shock to roll so he was once again hovering above me.
His eyes narrowed. “What type of misogynistic, close-minded jerk would hold the fact that you’re a girl against you? From what I’ve heard, you disguised yourself for a good fucking reason.”
I smiled widely at him, and he grinned back.
Everything with John was so simple.
He got it.
He understood.
Lately it felt like he was the only man who actually listened to me.
“Excuse me?” Malum growled roughly, and his deep baritone voice sent goose bumps down my spine. “Why are you on top of Arabella?”
Speaking of men who didn’t understand.
Malum stood in the middle of the room, glaring at me and John like he wanted to kill us with his stare.
Apparently, he really had been napping and not in a stress-induced coma.
Disappointing.
“Looks like our property is not only a murderer and a liar, but she’s also a slag,” Scorpius sneered.
“Don’t call her that,” Orion whispered and shoved at the blind devil he was lying on.
Scorpius lounged on the bed with his hands behind his head. He smirked like he was unconcerned that Orion was mad at him.
There was something dangerous about two powerful warriors cuddling. It lulled you into thinking they were soft and approachable.
They weren’t.
I snapped back at Scorpius sarcastically, “Don’t forget that I’m also a whore.”
The blind king smiled condescendingly. “Thanks for the reminder.”
I slumped back against my pillows and answered John’s rhetorical question. “The kings are those misogynistic, close-minded jerks.”
John climbed off the bed and stood in front of me protectively with his arms and legs spread.
He physically blocked me from the kings and asked incredulously, “Did you call her your property?”
I peeked over John’s back.
“It’s Arabella,” Orion mouthed like he was making a point as long lashes framed stunning brown eyes that stared at me without blinking. Scorpius’s fingers dragged across his muscled chest.
Orion met my gaze while Scorpius played with his nipple.
The quiet devil kept staring.
Since I’d revealed I was a girl, Orion had also been watching me with a new intensity. Every time I glanced at him, his eyes were on me.
I had yet to see him blink.
What did I really know about him?
I knew he tasted like raspberries, chocolates, and sin. He’d grabbed my jaw in his powerful hand and kissed me like he was consuming me.
I knew he was the most attractive man I’d ever seen.
He’d also whispered that he wanted me to be his toy, in a silky-smooth voice that was lyrical like a haunting song.
He stuck up for me.
I shivered and looked at where Scorpius touched him.
The weight of Orion’s gaze made my skin prickle, and I knew he was still staring. Little pinpricks of pain danced down my spine.
The blind king dragged his fingers up over Orion’s sharp jaw and high cheekbones, then he buried them in blond hair.
They were both shirtless. A tangle of pale and gold.
Scorpius slowly licked the cherry blossom tattooed on Orion’s neck. A pang of jealousy stabbed my gut.
I shivered.
Orion still hadn’t taken his eyes off me.
Scorpius bit down, and Orion jerked, a droplet of red dripping across pink petals. The flower turned red.
I blinked at the optical illusion.
“What’s going on?” John asked as he narrowed his eyes at the kings’ sexual display, then looked back at me.
The devils were always loud bullies, but unlike the demons, they were mostly private about their lust for one another.
They’d been aggressively horny since I’d gotten the tattoo.
I shrugged at John. Who knew why bullies did what they did?
Across the room Scorpius laughed darkly. “I called her that because it’s true. Arabella is our filthy property.”
He nibbled at Orion’s neck as he grinned.
Only Mother had called me Arabella.
While Scorpius was sucking on him, Orion licked his lips and stared at me.
I shivered harder.
John flexed and made a harsh noise. Darkness expanded around him, and he moved like he was going to go fight the kings.
I sat up and wrapped my arms around John from behind.
Resting my head on his shoulder so our faces were side by side, I said, “Try not to panic, but I have something to tell you.”
John went still beneath me.
Malum snarled from the middle of the room, “Stop touching him like that.” Little scarlet flames danced along his wide bronze shoulders.
Layers of muscles ripped, and he cracked his neck back and forth like he was getting ready to explode.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I said as I hugged John tighter. No one was going to tell me I couldn’t lean on my friend for support.
John was tight with tension.
Scorpius licked the side of Orion’s stunning face, then said, “But Arabella.” He kissed along his jaw. “We own you, so technically we can.”
“Oh, shut up,” I said through gritted teeth.
The slave tattoo was annoying, but we were all aware of the circumstances and that it meant nothing. I didn’t know why they were putting on a show.
Even for them, this was dramatic.
I pulled back from John and said to Scorpius, “I prefer Aran, not Arabella. Grow up.”
Scorpius chuckled darkly. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re grown.” He lifted his hips provocatively and smirked. “Your comebacks are shit. You need to work on them, Arabella.”
“Fuck you,” I snapped.
Malum took a step closer to my bed and said, “How dare you talk to my mate like that?”
My life felt like one never-ending argument with the kings. It was like bashing my head against a brick wall. You couldn’t reason with narcissistic, Machiavellian psychopaths.
John cracked his knuckles in warning.
“I told him not to call me Arabella.” I rubbed at the beginning of a tension headache.
“When will you learn?” Malum asked roughly. “We don’t care what you want, Arabella.”
I flinched as he emphasized the name, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
A cold sweat broke out across my hairline.
“Arabella, you’re so weak,” Mother whispered as she snapped her fingers and set me on fire. The terrible cold came after as my body shook from stress on the icy palace floor.
I blinked and realized John was holding me and rubbing comforting circles against my back.
I slumped against him.
Over John’s shoulder, Malum scowled as flames covered his arms like sleeves.
“You don’t own me,” I said forcefully. “I’m just temporarily enslaved to you. There’s a difference.”
Scorpius scoffed.
Orion kept staring.
“Excuse me?” John asked as he went still in my arms.
“Um.” I gnawed on the inside of my mouth. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Malum laughed cruelly. “There’s no difference.”
My stomach cramped with nausea.
The devils didn’t talk about ownership in the way Sadie’s mates talked about her, which was with an edge of obsession and devotion that was kind of endearing. They called me property like I was the muck beneath their boots.
If I had any self-esteem, it would have been crushed.
Good thing I had none.
The air around John shimmered with darkness as he pulled away and asked darkly, “You’re their slave?”
Across the room, Zenith and Vegar stopped making out and turned to me with startled expressions.
I grimaced and rubbed at the back of my neck.
The flames in the fireplace screamed in a frenzy, and I pretended they were aggressively yelling compliments at me. You’re so pretty and smart. You’re so cool. You have an impeccable sense of style.
No. Coping was not a linear process.
“Oh, did Arabella not already tell you?” Scorpius taunted, and his high cheekbones were sharp as glass as he smiled.
His handsomeness was captivating, like a grotesque disease that made you stare in horror.
He pulled down the corner of his sweatpants, and his Adonis belt gleamed in the firelight.
With Orion draped all over him, he looked like a painting. The title would be The Carnal Delights of Monsters. Or something equally off-putting and sexy.
Scorpius showed off the tattoo of a snake eating its own tail that was wrapped in four chains. He proudly said, “Arabella is now our slave, and she can’t leave our presence without pain.”
Chains glinted as they rotated on pale flesh.
John stumbled back and leaned against the bed as he clearly recognized the symbol.
Dark eyes widened.
He looked at me with horror.
John had been present when Lothaire had forcibly taken me from the realm to bind my life to the kings, but just like me, he hadn’t realized it was through slavery.
I sucked on my pipe and nodded gravely.
John choked.
Darkness expanded around him like it was sentient.
It didn’t take analytical skills to see that John was not fully human, but I had no clue what type of creature wielded literal darkness.
The darkness dissipated, and John’s expression changed from furious to concerned.
He hugged me and said, “I get why you were having a pity party.”
“It’s fucked up, isn’t it?” I whispered.
John squeezed me tightly, then asked, “Should we kill them?”
“The kings?” I asked.
“Mm-hmm,” he confirmed as he played with one of my curls.
“For sure.” I closed my eyes and enjoyed his warmth. “But right now? That seems a little aggressive.”
Sometimes a girl was just too tired to murder. My creative killing juices weren’t flowing.
Yes, my depression was definitely impeding me from living my best life. I was aware. Just another thing to talk to Dr. Palmer about if I survived this realm.
John wrapped my curl around his finger. “We might as well just do it now.”
“Maybe?” It was all sorts of complicated with my lives tied to theirs, and my headache was making it hard to think. “You decide.”
John tugged at my curl. “Come on, I don’t want to choose.”
“I decided to kill Horace all by myself last time,” I pointed out.
John sighed and mumbled against me, “You’re being a bitch.”
“Don’t try to goad me into action.” I pulled back from his embrace. “You know it’s your turn to choose if we kill someone. You can’t just expect me to always decide. That’s rude.”
We glared at each other.
Someone growled, and the pitch was reminiscent of whiskey, cigarettes, and broken glass.
“Are you two done?” Malum snapped. “Neither of you is going to kill us.”
“Now who’s acting like they’re on their period?” I pointed at Malum and arched my brow.
John slapped his hand over his mouth to muffle his laugh.
I drew on my inner fae bitch and whispered dramatically to John, “He probably has a heavy flow, but is one of those weak bitches who refuses to use an enchanted period cup because he passes out at the sight of blood.”
I’d listened to elite fae women talk for hours at the palace balls and had learned a lot from them.
Men thought they were so big and scary, but a gossiping woman was evil incarnate. They knew how to eviscerate a person with a few words. I aspired to be like them.
John choked.
Scorpius clapped and said, “That’s a better insult. Still not great though.”
Unsurprisingly, Malum’s red flames shot higher into the air.
Orion still hadn’t blinked.
Sadly, before Malum could light us all on fire and end the misery that was known as existence, Lothaire walked into the room and distracted everyone.
Lothaire asked, “What’s going on here?”
I studied my cuticles. “Malum needs a tampon.”
There was a long moment where my vampyre sire—the only man I’d ever call Daddy was my fictional lover who’d raze the realms for me—stared at me like he was trying to figure out if I was being serious.
“Is this a daughter thing?” he asked slowly. “Do you need sanitary products?”
I blew out a smoke gun.
And shot myself in the forehead.
I was twenty-four, not twenty-five; obviously, I hadn’t started ovulating yet. Men were ignorant, dumb, ugly creatures.
Frankly, I was done interacting with them.
It wasn’t good for my constitution.
John’s shoulder shook, and he slapped his other hand over his mouth to muffle his laugh.
Scorpius sneered something under his breath. Both Malum and I opened our mouths to speak.
Lothaire held up his hand.
No one spoke.
His brutal training was so ingrained in us you could instantly hear a pin drop. We barely breathed.
I half-expected him to whip out his baton and start beating us all bloody in a rampage.
Lothaire pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s forget whatever just happened. We have something important to address.”
“Coward,” I mumbled under my breath.
Personally, I respected him more when he attacked us. But maybe that was just me.
He turned to the kings. “First, I want to confirm that you will do everything in your power to keep my daughter safe like you promised. Otherwise, you’ll never find your mate.”
Malum’s chest rose and fell as he breathed harshly.
“Am I understood?” Lothaire’s voice cracked like a whip.
“Yes, sir,” the kings said in unison, but the expressions on their faces said they weren’t happy about it.
Lothaire nodded like they were in agreement.
How he missed the manic sadomasochistic glint in their eyes was beyond me.
“Good,” Lothaire said gravely. “Because there’s been a change of plans with this year’s training.”
Everyone froze.
“The High Court has ordered all of you to form a legion and compete in the Legionnaire Games. The games will be held here at Elite Academy. I’ll be the host.”
I blinked.
Swallowed thickly.
I dug my nail into my lower lip. I pulled off a flap of skin.
New life plan: figure out how to kill myself before the Legionnaire Games began.
