Wicked Royals (Elites of Macedon High 1)

ChapterFive

Alex

Sweat decorates my brow, the high heat of the gym barely offering an excuse for my poor performance. The bleachers to my right come into focus briefly, revealing a hopeful Demetra and a glaring Parker. Soren stands before me, all dressed up in his fencing garb, sparkling white jacket, gloves, and breeches free of stains—even sweat.

“Ms. Alex,” he purrs. “Never thought I’d see you holding something so hard.”

I struggle to breathe through my irritation when Soren flicks my épée and feints an attack. Struggling to recover his assault puts me squarely in position for his thrust into my center.

“Oops, you’ve been pierced,” he teases. “But not impaled the way I want you.”

“Alexandra,” Coach Neill calls out, her voice echoing in the gym. “Get off the defense. Attack him.”

Emotions whirl in my chest as I focus on his mesh mask. Though his face is hidden, that smug grin, those piercing blue eyes, and those angular features are all I can manage to see while trying to formulate a plan of attack.

“Come on, sugar,” he taunts. “Attack me. I dare you.”

The way he stared down at me while he shoved his cock into my unwilling mouth and the sound he made when I gagged…

Coach Neill groans. “Alex, get it together!”

I grit my teeth as I lunge forward, extending my weapon to get a jab into Soren’s chest—but I fucking miss. He swats my weapon, knocks it from my hand, and then holds the tip of his épée at my throat. I can feel him grinning beneath his mask.

He clicks his tongue. “Too slow. Guess you’re better at taking it than giving it, huh?”

“Fuck off,” I grunt.

“All right, that’s it for today,” Coach Neill announces. “Get hydrated.”

Soren whips his mask off, revealing tousled fair hair that still somehow appears stylish even when he’s been exerting himself. The only sign of his effort resides in his neck that’s slick with a light sheen of sweat. Other than that, he appears perfectly normal, eyes narrowing slightly as he watches me remove my mask.

I look over at Demetra on the bleachers, at her easy smile and relaxed posture. Just above her sits Parker, features a striking contrast to my best friend. Seeing his sneer makes me think about the pier, the yacht, his fingers. Tension mounts in my core, a flash of arousal accompanied by guilt.

He made me come.

I hate that he made me come.

My vision tunnels as I gulp and shake it off. But there is no shaking off Parker Somerville. Not with the way he’s drilling his eyes into me right now. Without responding to his gaze, I head to the locker room to change, attempting to carry myself with confidence. When I’m in comfier clothes, I join Demetra on the bleachers.

Parker and Soren are gone, making me sigh, “Fuck Mondays.”

“I agree,” she says while rubbing my upper back. The way her fingers run over my tense muscles makes me smile weakly. “He really beat you up out there.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about…” I shake my head. “Whatever. I can’t believe my father drew up four marriage contracts. With the worst fucking boys in the entire world.”

She nods sympathetically. “What’s your strategy? Are you going to pick a husband based on protection or revenge?”

“Fuck if I know. I feel like I have no control here.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to choose a husband right away.” Her eyes darken slightly. Is that mischief dancing in her irises? “You could always make them fight for you. That way you’re taking back some of your control.”

I grin wickedly. “And here I thought you were made of puppy dogs and rainbows.”

She smiles as she wraps her arm around me. “That’s just my creative problem solving coming out to play.” She pauses and then says with conviction, “You’re smart, Alex. You’ve always been smart. You’ll figure something out.”

If only I didn’t have to do that. I try to smile. I try to lean into her comfort. I do my best to focus on the things that are within my reach. Parker, Lev, Soren, and Tomas are at my fingertips, and it’s clear that they’re competing with each other. Putting them at odds would make my revenge that much sweeter—and maybe the victor will be someone worth guarding me. But if only…

Now isn’t the time for sobbing over my situation. My hands are tied. I have to do what I can to survive, even if it means compromising a few things. I give Demetra a long hug before hopping down the bleachers and heading to my next class. I don’t want to talk about those alpha jerks anymore.