His eyes looked black, so much depth to swim in I almost fell in just taking stock of his presence. His fists were balled up on either side of his hips, and his shoulders were so squared off that it seemed threatening to even me.
Caellum wasn’t afraid of him, and he made it clear: “Are you gonna sulk or come in?”
He stepped forward, expertly around me, like I wasn’t there at all, when Nyx appeared and grabbed Bolton’s arm, holding him back. It was like watching Bolton become glued to the ground out of nowhere. Nyx’s strength seemed unreal; then again, all of this did.
Unreal.
Awful.
Insane.
A curse I didn’t ask for.
“Fuck you, Caellum. Always have to dip into your bag of tricks, huh? You can’t ever just bow to me like you should.”
Caellum didn’t seem the least bit affected when he moved around the table and perched on its edge, putting his feet in the chair in front of him. “I don’t bow to fake kings. Zeus never crowned you, and Arianna never married you. You don’t matter any more than the dirt under my boot, demigod.”
Bolton ripped his arm away, but I saw Nyx loosen his fingers, like Caellum’s insult finally crossed a line.
Bolton stormed towards him, wiping the smirk off his face with one unseen motion. I could only see Bolton’s hand on Caellum’s shoulder. I stood still enough to not make a sound, shocked, when I realized what had actually happened, and where Bolton’s other hand was: connected to a dagger that was full-blade deep in Caellum.
He had stabbed Caellum in the stomach with one easy motion.
He stabbed Caellum to feed his own aggression.
He stabbed Caellum, knowing he might be wrong about the rules and that he may not be okay.
Caellum coughed before letting his head fall back, and I saw a trail of gold liquid run down the side of his mouth down his sharp jawline.
“Bolton!”
He didn’t turn towards me once; he was soaking the pleasure of draining the life from Caellum, and his upturned mouth proved it.
I saw a ruthless side of Bolton I hadn’t seen yet, and for whatever reason… the dangerous parts of me swooned. I could feel every part of me swirl with desire at his brute force protecting me.
I was stuck in a state of confusion that I would feel this way and infatuation for this side of him, even while my morals begged me to check Caellum for a pulse.
Nyx leaned against the wall, looking at his phone more interested than Bolton committing murder in front of us. “Do you feel better now? Can we go now? I have plans.”
Bolton stood there, watching Caellum’s lifeless body fall back, and his head hung off the other end of the desk. Bolton removed the knife, pushing Caellum’s shoulder back. He couldn’t take his eyes off him. Nothing screamed remorse or guilt; he was pleased with himself.
Accomplished even.
Standing over a traitor’s body, like the king he was and always would be, because we built him up, all the way to the throne, and now he wasn’t giving it up—even if he was powerless and every bit as malicious as he seemed.
Bolton
Caellum did enough damage while I turned a blind eye. He chose to make Arcadia Prep our battle ground, and the fight was never about going home, but about who would wear the crown that was only made to fit my head.
Demigod.
He dug his own grave when he decided we were hitting below the belt. I may have a human parent, unlike the rest of the circle, but I only needed one to be considered royalty in Olympus.
I pushed my way past Arianna, who was shedding a displaced tear for Caellum. I was already a type of pissed off that gets people beheaded, and now she was pushing me even further into the arms of disobedience.
“Whisk those fucking crocodile tears away. He isn’t dead, Arianna. It’ll just slow him down.”
She pushed her face up to look at me. The tears were running down her face, and now her eyebrows pinched together in the middle. “You’re a monster.”
She was calling me a monster, but I could tell by her hard nipples and the extra violet in her eyes twinkling back at me that she was turned on. Arianna was turned on by the monster that had been lying and hiding instead of showing its face.
I shifted behind her, leaning down enough to whisper right into her ear, “I’m pretty sure it's ‘Betrothed’ to you, but ‘King’ is fine for now.”
Nyx was grinning ear to ear, seemingly no longer worried about their history we still couldn’t grasp… or he was just trying not to end up on the other end of my blade, like Caellum.
“Nice going, New Girl. Piss off the demon inside him; that’ll save us all.” He spoke while following Bolton out of the room, with his eyes still glued to his phone screen.
I listened to every word of their exchange, somewhat ready for some safe word to drag all the memories back.
She caught up to his side and asked, “Can I borrow your phone? I have to text Luna.”
Nyx twisted out of reach, as her hand lunged for his phone. “What makes you think I’m texting Luna?”
“You always have that stupid grin on your face when you’re texting Luna. I know, because she gets the same one.”
They both are so in love that their bodies can’t help it. Someone wanna fill him in so he can stop being angry about losing Arianna?
“Better than the other faces I make, alone, in my room while undressing her in my mind.”
I was sure his confession had her blushing all the way to her core, which was still aching for me.
I had more bad qualities than good right now, yet her clit was throbbing harder than ever for me.
“Use mine,” I told her. “We have a game tonight anyways. I’ll meet you there. Stay with Luna and Kate.”
“We have a game? Since when?”
“Since… any team who forfeits can request a game at any time.”
I glared at Nyx, already utilizing his full power and soaked in dream-like memories of Arianna—my Arianna.
“We were supposed to have a girls’ night. How long was I even gone?”
I stopped walking away from her, and all the anger she was kicking up abruptly. “Five hours. You stormed off like a child five hours ago. And for five hours of my day I looked all over for your ass. And who came to save you Arianna? Me. So next time you wanna tell me I don’t wear a goddamn crown, you better rip it off my head first.”
I watched her eyes drown in an ocean of unshed tears, and her face tried to iron out how much it was folding under my harsh words.
Almost—that’s how close she made me to feeling bad. She looked broken, stressed, and cursed, just like the rest of us. I had broken her resistance and attitude in a few sentences.
She shoved me out of her way. “You’re such as asshole, Bolton. No wonder I ran away when it came time to marry you!”
I let her shove past me, out of my sight, with my phone, because she just remembered something. Her remembering was the best feeling I’ve had in fourteen years, and I wasn’t letting it be ruined by her spite. Knowing Arianna, she’d force herself to forget just to have nothing to say to me.
Nyx loomed, unamused and ready to let the aggression out on the field. “She just keeps running away. Well, well, our king was always without a queen.”
He walked past me, the same way she did with a shifted shoulder and palm against my chest, like they’d blow me over in the process.