Wicked Royals (Elites of Macedon High 1)

***

I should be hungry, but the hunger pangs in my gut don’t register. My brain has been spinning all morning about who could have possibly killed my father. Any one of those powerful families could have had a hand in it—and maybe even more than one. Maybe it was a group effort.

A shudder rips through me as I shrug my shoulders. Bright daylight glows through the expansive windows of Macedon High, yet I feel chilled right down to the bone. It feels like someone is watching me, eyes roaming my body, waiting for a time to strike. Am I being followed?

Glancing over my shoulder produces an empty hallway. I clutch my brown paper bag tighter, circling the banister to the stairs that lead to the second floor. The halls are abandoned right now, my sneakers squeaking as I rise to the second landing and take a step toward the next set of stairs.

Footsteps reverberate off the brick and tile. I lift my gaze to find two of the four horsemen hovering above me, Soren and Parker. Their eyes glitter with mischief, alerting me that I should retreat as slowly and carefully as possible.

But when I back down, I bump into a steel body. Turning around reveals Tomas. His eyes are fixed to the ground, hazel brown pools swirling with flecks of teal that I hadn’t noticed until now, until I’m standing inches away from him.

I don’t mean to drop my bag of lunch from the cafeteria.

Soren whistles. “That’s a short skirt. Care to share what’s hiding under there?”

I glare up at him. “Fuck off.”

He rolls his blue eyes at Parker. “What do you think, Parker?”

Sharp green eyes assess me, jaw tense and fraught with concentration. His nostrils flare as he reveals a sinister grin. It’s hard seeing Parker smile when it’s something he only does when he’s victorious.

What the hell does he feel victorious about right now?

I gulp as I try to back up, but Tomas is too close, boxing me into the corner of the stairwell with his chest. His lip piercing reflects light from the windows in the hallway above, causing the ring to glitter. Ignoring the fact that I notice his tongue dancing on the edge of his bottom lip, I turn to Parker with a glower, giving him my strongest frown.

“Leave me alone,” I hiss.

Soren responds with a husky chuckle. “Only if you beg on your knees.”

“In your dreams,” I snap.

Tomas rests his hand on the brick next to my head, a leather bracelet decorating his wrist. “Yeah, that’s why we’re here.”

“Today is your lucky day,” Parker announces. “We’ve chosen our toy for the year.”

Soren wrinkles his nose as he smiles and says, “And that’s you.”

“You should be flattered,” Tomas adds, his thumb extending to stroke my cheek. Hot flames dance across my flesh where he touches me, igniting a fury that lodges in my chest as a scream—a scream that refuses to break free. “It’s an honor.”

“No, a privilege,” Soren claims, while touching his chest lightly. He looks proud, like he’s about to accept a reward. “And considering you were such a goddamn tease in the past, we thought it was an easy choice.”

“So easy,” Tomas agrees.

Parker grins wider, but the joy doesn’t reach his eyes. “Especially since you’re not that innocent.”

My lower lip quivers. I’m trying to keep my expression under control, but I can’t help myself. I’m terrified of what’s about to happen. Being a toy to these creeps means being used in ways that I can imagine far too vividly. It’s the stuff of nightmares.

Tomas strokes my skin from my jaw to my ear, trailing over my earlobe. I swallow hard, hoping he doesn’t notice. But fuck, I know he does. His eyes drill into my throat, hyper-focused on the tender flesh just above my blouse.

My eyes fall to the ground. Soren’s legs come into view and then Parker’s, the two of them closing in on me like predators.

Like I’m a wounded gazelle.

There’s no way to get out of this without serious repercussions. Now that my father is gone, I don’t have a safety net from the alphas. They’ll get what they want, whether I give it to them willingly or fight. And only one of those choices will let me walk away without too many bruises.

Shuddering, I flatten against the brick behind me, seeking to steady myself.

“It’s easier if you don’t fight back,” Soren assures, his voice so deep that it rumbles in his chest. “Get on your knees.”