Vicious Prince (Royal Elite #5)(3)

I nudge him so he’ll give me some space. He’s crunching in my ear, the sound heightened with his proximity, and that’s another way for the triggers to seep in.

Knox releases me, now only holding on to Elsa.

“So, what do you think?” she insists.

“Me?” He feigns innocence. “I don’t care.”

Liar.

“Really?” Elsa grabs him by the elbow.

“I’m T’s brother, not her father. She gets to do what she wants. Do you know how freaked out I was when she said she had something to tell me? I thought she was going to say she’s pregnant and was planning a party to mourn my youth.” He points at me with his bag of crisps. “I forgive anything except making me an uncle this young.”

“Anything?” I smirk.

His grin falters for a second. “You’re a pain in the arse, T.”

“Compliments first thing in the morning?” I feign a gasp. “What have I done to deserve you?”

“You kind of stole my egg.”

“Your egg?” Elsa asks.

“Ellie, you know how twins are formed, right? Like once upon a time, I was swimming in my whore mother’s womb and I fought all the other fuckers who wanted to go into the egg. I won, by the way. So there I was, happy in the egg and shit, and then T here sneaks in and shares my egg.”

Elsa bursts out laughing as I just give him my signature blank stare.

“What are you laughing at?” Knox squeezes Elsa’s shoulder. “That’s really how twins are formed.”

“Identical,” she says.

“Huh?”

“That’s how identical twins are formed. You and Teal are fraternal. She didn’t steal your egg — there were already two.”

“How do you know that?” He narrows his eyes on her. “Were you there?”

“God no.”

“Then we’ll go with my story.”

He’s so daft, my brother, and I have no words to describe how much I appreciate him for it.

I wouldn’t have come this far if I didn’t have him.

When the darkness swallows me and I have nowhere to go, he’s there, telling me without words that we have each other.

We always have, since our whore mother’s womb.

We had each other even when that same whore wanted to make us like her.

When we thought we were going to die in that hollow, dark place while we almost bled out.

I retrieve my phone, ready to go back to my article about Napoleon. There’s something interesting about war, not the mass destruction or the casualties, but the ways they’ve started.

They ways they’ve been finished.

In between, there’s chaos, but chaos doesn’t come randomly.

I’m at the beginning phase, where the smallest action can trigger a bloody battle.

The first of many.

As I’m about to get lost in the words, in the debauchery of the human mind, another presence steals my interest.

He walks towards us with an arm around Aiden’s shoulder. The latter — Elsa’s boyfriend — is the tall, dark, and handsome type, and he’s playing the role with that scowl that says Come close and I’ll slaughter your family tree. It’s why the onlooking students admire him from afar, not daring to get in his way. For Aiden, only one person exists in the female population — or the entire population, actually — and it’s my foster sister.

Aiden King is one of a group known as the four horsemen of this school’s football team, something stupid about the damage they do to their opponents’ defences. Aiden is Conquest, and true to his name, he’s already conquered Elsa.

While he ignores everyone, his attention falls solely on her, as if he can cut the distance and magically appear beside her.

The one by his side is doing the opposite of ignoring his surroundings.

He winks at one girl, high-fives another, and tells a random freshman to call him with a huge grin that nearly splits his face open. They all eat it up, nearly tripping over their feet in front of him.

Ronan Astor.

An earl’s son with a Prince Charming complex.

Nicknamed Death for his position on the team.

He doesn’t know that death isn’t a title. Death is the beginning of every war, and I’ve already started mine.

I stole his will, his future, and soon enough, his life will follow.

I have a secret, I’m a thief.

Ronan Astor is my next target.

As well as my future husband.





2





Teal





Beauty is subjective.

I read that once, and since then, I’ve had this weird feeling that it spoke to me.

Beauty is a strange concept for me. Black is beautiful, and dark chocolate with nuts can also be considered beautiful.

But other than that, what’s human beauty? Gigolos — sorry, I mean guys with model-like looks such as Knox’s — are considered beautiful. Aiden, Elsa’s boyfriend, is handsome, too.

There’s a different type of beauty that’s darker, a bit sinister, hiding under the surface rather than pushing to the top.

I guess that’s beauty for me. It’s not about the physical aspect but rather about what the exterior hides. You can feel it when someone possesses no beauty by societal standards but their charisma speaks to you in one way or another. You can’t see it, but it’s there.