Chapter 4

CHARLOTTE

“You always do this, Sean!” The sound of a curling iron hitting the sink counter travels through the closed bathroom door, as Madeline yells on the phone.

It’s another one of those days. Another one of those endless arguments she always gets into with her on again-off again boyfriend, Sean.

“I don’t even want to go to the party anymore, do you always have to be such a goddessdamned asshole?” Madeline barks.

Gosh.

I wish my comforter would open up and swallow me whole.

Mads is my best friend, probably my only friend, and I love her to motherfucking shreds. But if I have to listen to one more fall out between this toxic ass couple, I’ll literally loose my damn mind. At least more than I already have in the last five days.

Six months ago, life here was a breeze. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder wondering when the next Prince would round the corridor with a harem of his sluts to put me down, or worse, stick a ‘free blowie for $1’ note slapped on my back the second he walks past me without my knowledge. Both of those instances aren't made up at all, curtsy of both Reigh and Taide respectively. But now that they’re not only back for the school year, but also my… my…

Fuck, I can’t even think it.

I feel like I’m the main character of a freaking heist with the way I’ve been treading the halls of Lupin Prep. Every second feels like the build up to the most disastrously intense situation I’ll ever be involved in.

Like my death maybe.

I wouldn’t put it passed someone like Caeson.

Who’s been oddly quiet on his end… as well as Taide and Reigh.

It worries me.

Gearing up for what they have in store for me on a daily is one thing. But gearing up for nothing? An entirely different feeling. And ever since they cornered me in the hallway on the first day back, they’ve been MIA.

And not even entirely. Because I’ve caught glimpses of them here and there. Caeson always has his fake bitch, Emmalaine, hanging on his arm like a goddessdamned puppy in training. The guy couldn’t look more bored even if he tried, but they’re engaged, and they wear that status like a neon sign.

Weird. The fact one of the males I’m supposedly destined to spend the rest of my life with has already had his future Luna chosen from him since the day he had his first shift.

I mean I’m not one to give into the rumors, but that’s honestly the quickest way to get information around here, especially for an outsider like me.

King Auric had Caeson and Emmalaine engaged ever since they were 10 and 9. The Von Pierce family is known to have the largest weaponry artillery in the entire realm. Joining the two families is beyond logical. But I wonder how it feels for either of them, knowing their fate’s been set in stone in that way.

Why the hell am I sitting alone in my bed analyzing the status of Caeson and Emmalaine’s relationship?

Am I jealous?

Ugh. Hell no!

I can’t even bring myself to consider the possibility. Caeson doesn’t have his head on right, and I have the stories to back me up. And the experiences. He’s like a psychopath hidden behind the face of a Greek god and the proper vocabulary of those human Englishmen. It’s so deceiving.

I’m certain ninety-five percent of Lupin Prep’s entire population are yet to see the real monster he hides so well.

So well.

But sometimes he slips, not often, but he does.

And I see it, when we’re alone, and he’s backed me into a helpless corner. I see the real devil he is, and exactly what he’s capable of. And just how much he enjoys it.

But those are parts of him I only get to see so scarcely. In fact, he’s walked passed me everyday for the last five days with the straightest, most uninterested face ever.

Like what we know to be the truth is nothing but a joke.

Like he never grabbed my arm and whispered rough words in my ear.

Like there isn’t an invisible force pulling us together with such magnitude that I can’t breathe sometimes when we’re in a space together.

It’s like that with all of them. But something about the way Caeson acts like he’s oblivious to it all just… fascinates me.

At least I got a wink from Reigh on Wednesday, one that made my shoulders stiffen. And the day after orientation, Taide did a double take at lunch hour, or I could have just imagined it. But still.

At least with them, it feels like something actually did happen that Monday. Like there’s actually a fucking mega sized elephant in the room.

But I’ve gotten nothing from Caeson.

Absolutely nothing.

And it’s keeping me on edge.

The bathroom door swings open, and Madeline drags heavy feet over to her bed, flopping down on it without a care, as she mumbles, “I’m so done with that dirt-bag.”

I roll over to my side, so I can look at her on the opposite side of our shared dorm room, “Wanna talk about what happened this time?”

“He’s just so controlling, you know?” She sighs, “Just cause he’s out of town for the weekend he’s all like, ‘don’t go to the Deviltree’s party tonight, you know how you are when get drunk and let loose.’ Ugh, it’s like, hello? This is the twenty-first century, I do not need a fucking chaperone. How sexist is he? Does he think I can’t handle my own? I’m not some dumb, defenseless party girl who’s gonna be vulnerable at a shebang and have guys waiting to take advantage. Has he forgotten about my brothers?”

I pick my words carefully, “I’m sure he’s just trying to look out for you. In his own way.” I add.

“Yeah, well he should choose another way to show it.” She bites, “If I want to go to the party, I fucking will. He’s all the way in the docks sailing with his family for the weekend, having the time of his life, and I’m supposed to what? Stay home and knit?”

“Well, we could try learning one of those complicated knots?” I joke.

Her head lolls to the side on her pillow, before she rolls her eyes. But a slow smile tugs her lips upwards, “You’re such a homebody, Char. You literally never come to these things.”

“Uh, because they’re littered with the worst of the worst.”

“You know the Deviltree aren’t so bad.” She lifts a shoulder, “I mean three of them are my family.”

“Yeah,” I say, “So you should know exactly just how horrifying they can be.”

She laughs, “Fair.” Rolling onto her belly, she pins me with a look, “But still, scary actions aside, they’re a bunch of hotties, don’t you think?”

My cheeks heat.

Is she talking about the triplets?

I don’t have to support or object that notion regardless, because it goes without saying. But Madeline doesn’t know the truth about what’s going on yet, and it sucks that I haven't had the courage to tell her about it. She’s been nothing but a life-line since the day we bumped into each other sophomore year. But come on, we’re talking about my mates being her brothers for goddess’ sake.

And she already has a vague, vague idea of the hell they put me though, so goddess knows it’ll be one of the most awkward conversations ever.

One I’m just not ready to have yet.

“You know what?” She says, sitting up in her bed suddenly, “We should totally go to that party tonight.”

I mirror her exact position, shooting up in bed, my face incredulous, “We should totally not!”

“Come on, Char! It’s the first weekend of the semester, you know how hot this party’s gonna be before the school session really kicks in. Everyone’s gonna be there!”

“Yeah, exactly.” I say, “Not really my type of crowd.”

Her eyes soften, “I know how shitty things were sophomore year. And I also know that the boys being absent made things better last semester. Maybe things are different now, like who knows, what if their succession training made them better men fit to sit the throne one day?” She says the last part without even being able to keep a straight face.

“Hardy har har, Mads. But I highly doubt six months is long enough to change the Devil Princes. Those boys need a lobotomy.”

She full on cackles. I’ve never pulled my punches when it comes to throwing jabs at the triplets, and Madeline never bats an eye at all the disastrous thing I say about them either. She knows they deserve it.

“Please, Char!” She pouts, “I refuse to rot away on a Saturday night when I could be out having fun.”

“I’m not stopping you, Mads. You can have all the fun you want and then tell me about it when you're shitfaced and talking out of the toilet bowl.”

“Nooooo!” She cries, “I wanna get shit faced with my best friend!”

“There is nothing on planet earth that could make me show my face at another one of those Elite parties.” I tell her, “Goddess literally forbid it. Nothing, no one, not even you. Sorry! End of conversation.”

-x-

That totally wasn’t the end of that conversation.

The party’s already in full swing by the time we make it to the mansion.

“It’s good vibes all around, see!” Madeline shrieks, tugging me through the front door. I shoulder through the crowd, wondering why the hell I let her convince me.

“I’m gonna go get drinks so we can actually get shit faced!” She shouts over the blaring music, “You wanna come, or wait right here?”

“I actually need to find a bathroom.” I shout, “I’ll meet you back here in ten minutes.”

“Alrightie!” She hip bumps me and struts off.

This goddessdamned house is the size of a football field. How the hell am I going to find a bathroom in this place?

I move along the space, shifting closer to an area not packed with as many people. I pop open about three wrong doors before moving to the only one left at the edge of the hall.

Is this the back patio door?

Tugging it open, and walking right through fills me with instant regret. And my entire body just freezes at the sight in front of me.

“Oh! Fuck!” Emmalaine’s cries are unrestricted, her head pulled back with a large hand fisted in her hair, as someone thrusts into her from behind. “Caeson!”

As Caseon fucks her from behind.

She’s in nothing but a slinky red bikini, the cups pulled apart, exposing her breasts to the night air. She mid-thigh deep into the Jacuzzi tub, with her hands gripping the edges for balance. Her mouth hangs open with pleasure, her eyes squeezed shut.

Goddess.

Why the hell am I still here?

I know I should walk away, turn around and forget this ever happened. But my eyes travel upward of their own accord. Trailing up Caeson’s bare stomach, transfixed at how the muscles of his abdomen contract with each slow roll of his hips. My eyes follow the broad expanse of his chest, moving over his clenched jaw right to his arctic blue stare.

He’s fucking her, but his eyes are on me.

My chest tightens, but I don’t move to break the trance. He reaches forward, pinching her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting another shrill cry from her lips. He doesn’t physically react. Doesn’t even look like he’s enjoying it. But there’s something so… erotic about watching him pound into her. The rough way he handles her--fist in her hair, rough glides of his hands.

The heat in my face makes a delicate, confusing path between my legs. Till I’m clenching my thighs to keep myself standing upright.

This is absurd.

I spin on my heel and walk out of the door like the place just caught fire. I need to bleach my fucking brain if I’m ever going to burn that image from my memory.

Or the memory of me… being turned on by it.

“Well if it isn’t the scholarship stag.”

The sound of his voice stiffens my shoulders into blocks of ice. But my entire body reacts otherwise though. Ever since Monday, every time I’m within range of either of them, my body picks up a tornado of feeling. Most of them confusing and disturbing as hell, because in no way should I be feeling those very questionable feelings towards these monsters.

Taide eats up the distance between us, draping a heavy arm over my shoulder.

I actually fight a shiver.

Of pleasure.

Ugh!

Just such little contact already has me pressed to jump out of my own skin. But like hell if he’ll ever know that for sure.

I park a hand over my hip, not slowing down my pace, “I know you’ve been gone for so long, but that name doesn’t stick anymore.”

“Yeah,” He bites back easily, leaning in to whisper, “Heard ‘Harlot’ suits you so much better.”

My eyes roll. If anything, that’s the nickname I hate the most, yet it’s the one that’s stuck the longest.

Charlotte the Harlot, Reigh’s stupid play on my name that he made everyone run with sophomore year.

“Is there anything I can help you with? Or are you just going about doing your daily rounds?”

“Daily rounds?”

“You know, charm a girls pants off, sneak into the closest bathroom, forget her name the next day?” I lift a brow as I shift to look up at him, my face innocent, “Too bad for you though, this Harlot’s already fully booked for the night.”

He laughs.

Laughs.

It makes me grind my teeth, hard. I thought I did pretty good on that one.

“Now that seems a little unfair.”

“In what way?” I ask.

His voice drops an octave, “I’d think I would have first dibs seeing as I’m the only one who has it written on my destiny to fuck you one day.”

My feet stop.

I pull away, looking into his smug stare. “Don’t make comments like that.”

His forehead creases, “Comments like what?” He grips my shoulder, tucking me back to his side as we step out to the pool area. It’s packed with people, and more than half of them give a well deserved double take to Taide and I casually walking down the poolside deck.

“I’m only speaking the truth,” he shrugs. “Why? Does it bother you?”

“Well if we’re stating facts, then you’re not the only one who has it written on your destiny.” I say, pinning him with a pointed stare, “And unfortunately for you guys, it’s one hell of a destiny that’ll never, ever come to pass.”

A slow grin stretches over his face, straight white teeth and deep dimples on full display, “Is that a challenge, Har?”

“It’s a fucking fact, and you know it.”

“Hmm.” We walk in silence for a moment, before he speaks again, “You know, your temper seems real short right now, Har. I think you need to cool off.”

What…?

I barely have a second to react, before he presses against my arm, shoving me sideways and right into the deep end of the pool.