The Roaring is a game—or, a set of games. It pits the most dangerous and intelligent monsters against each other. There are battles of wits, but also battles of strength and physicality. Students from across the world come to Prodigium to participate in the Roaring. Hell, it’s not even just students. Some of the more seasoned monsters play as well.
“We don’t see your name on the list of competing monsters,” Charles Thethird says, crinkling his nose as if he has gotten a waft of a particularly pungent smell.
Me. I’m the smell.
“Um…” How do I kindly say that me and athletic events don’t mix well? Unless it’s a competition to see who can fall the most times in a ten-minute time frame. Then, I’m your girl.
A part of me—a part that I don’t dare to acknowledge—is terrified. The games are immensely dangerous, and more people die than survive. I’m not sure I’m ready for death yet.
But this is a new me, a better me. I came to Prodigium Academy in order to make myself a better monster. All I have ever wanted is to make my dad proud. And winning the Roaring? There’s no way he won’t be proud of me. I will train diligently, find my limit, and break through it.
I’ll prove Dracula, Vin, and all of the other monsters wrong.
“You know what,” I begin, flashing a cocksure smile I don’t actually feel. But you know what they say—fake it until you make it. “Sign me up. Violet Dracula. With a D.”
Charles glances up from his clipboard with piercing eyes. “We know how to spell Dracula.”
“Well, pleasure doing business with you all.” I smile first at Charles and then at his terrifying brother before skipping away, a bounce to my step that hadn’t been there prior.
Look out, world. Violet Dracula is back.
I’m writing notes to Jack in Proper Ways to Dispose of a Body—a class once taught by my very own psychopathic murderous sister, Ms. Stevens, and now by pudgy Mr. Skeletal—when a classroom attendant rushes in. He pants, offering a slip of a paper to the monotone professor, who I’m pretty sure, before teaching, worked at a gas station. He uses a lot of gas analogies in his speeches.
Don’t ask.
“Violet Dracula,” Mr. Skeletal says, clearing his throat. “You are requested in the headmaster’s office.”
I still, my movements in direct contrast to my rapidly pounding heart. I haven’t met the new headmaster yet, but the old one…
He sort of tried to kill me.
The whole situation put a sour taste in my mouth.
Jack stiffens, his narrowed eyes the only indication that he has transformed into Hux.
“I will be going with my precious treasure,” he bites out, moving to follow me.
“You will not!” Mr. Skeletal’s voice turns shrill, as if he truly believes that the louder he screams, the more commanding he sounds. “The headmaster only requested a meeting with Ms. Dracula.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warn my teacher with a pointed look in Hux’s direction. He’s either oblivious or stupid…or both. The verdict’s still out on that one.
Instead of taking my advice, Mr. Skeletal moves around his desk until he’s toe to toe with my glowering monster.
“You will sit back down instantly—” Before he can finish his command, Hux’s hand is around his throat and he’s pinning him to the wall. The class immediately breaks into anxious whispers. Gills—overdramatic bitch—begins to scream bloody murder. The noise makes me want to scratch my own ears off…if that’s even possible. As my dad always says, if there’s a murderous will, there’s a way.
“You will not keep me from my precious treasure, do you understand?” Hux thunders darkly, and I swear my vagina jumps for joy at having him threaten a teacher for me. Heat suffuses me, migrating from my stomach to my core.
Mr. Skeletal attempts to speak, legs kicking as his face turns a hideous shade of blue.
“Do. You. Understand?”
“Umm…he can’t answer you, Chocolate Bar,” I say, tapping Hux on the shoulder. When he turns towards me, I pantomime choking with both my hands wrapped around my throat. Understanding flares in his eyes, and he drops our teacher unceremoniously to the ground.
“You are lucky, Mr. Skeletal Dick, that my mate has offered to show leniency.” Hux’s face could’ve been hewn from stone, slashing eyebrows pulled low over glowering eyes. “Kiss her feet.”
“We really don’t have to do all of this,” I begin half-heartedly, but Hux has already grabbed Mr. Skeletal by the scruff of his neck and has lowered his face to the ground.
“Kiss her feet,” he demands.
Immediately, Mr. Skeletal begins peppering kisses to my Mary Jane shoes. It’s awkward as fuck, if I’m being completely honest with myself. What the hell am I supposed to do? I can’t very well make eye contact, now can I?
Finally, our teacher ambles back to his feet, body physically shaking, and writes two hall passes for me and Hux.
“Let’s go, my precious treasure,” Hux breathes, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side.
The halls are vacant as we exit the classroom, the rest of the students either in their classes or at their dorms.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” Hux begins in a soft, demure voice. His ebony lashes feather against his chiseled cheekbones as he blinks at me. “That was never my intention.”
“Scare me?” I release a bark of laughter. Before I can stop myself—before I can even wrap my head around my actions—I turn us both so Hux’s back is to the wall. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
I’ve kissed Jack before, but never Hux. Would he taste the same? Feel the same?
Without giving myself a moment to reconsider, I press my lips to his. At first, he stiffens underneath me, as if my touch, my kiss, has set off a thousand internal alarms. And then, his lips move under mine in the sweetest, most innocent of kisses imaginable. He growls against my lips, but doesn’t make any effort to deepen it.
It’s almost as if he’s unsure, hesitant, allowing me to take the reins and control the pace.
Fuck, that’s sexy.
I grab his hands and place them on my breasts. My nipples are already beaded diamonds, desperate for his touch. He begins to knead my fleshy globes as my tongue enters his mouth, tangling with his own. It’s a dance, a battle, reminiscent of swords clashing against shields. Surprisingly enough, he tastes different from Jack. It’s barely perceptible—something I wouldn’t even notice if I wasn’t searching for it specifically. While Jack tastes like spearmint, Hux has a distinct peppermint flavor that assaults my taste buds in the most delicious way possible.
I trail my hand down his sculpted chest until I reach the waistband of his jeans. I pause there, caressing the sliver of skin exposed, before lowering my hand. I cup his erect cock through his jeans and begin to rub in tandem to our heated kisses.
Hux makes a noise in the back of his throat—a combination between a pleading mewl and a groan—and begins to kiss me harder.
“It was so fucking sexy when you choked that teacher,” I pant as his finger caresses the seam of my jeans. Fuck, why didn’t I wear a skirt today? Of all the days…