Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 114617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
“Thank you, everyone.” I waved to my subjects. “No one’s got time for a long speech, so here’s all I’ve got to say: have fun, party, dance, and enjoy your fucking life on your terms, because that’s what you’re going to do every day that I’m queen.”
“Yeah!” they roared back, taking to the command with enthusiasm.
“There you go again,” Edric thought, “getting cocky. Everyone loves you now while you’re throwing parties and giving them everything they want. But pawns wake up quick when the general starts sacrificing them.”
“Well then, you might want to think less about betraying me and more about how we’ll hang on to our army. Because I’m not the only one who loses everything when Destiny takes over.”
We argued back and forth as we headed for my throne, because of course we did. Edric had to make everything difficult—even saving his life. The guy would make a priest break the seal of confessional just to tell everyone what an arrogant asshole he is! Not that that’s a secret!
We were halfway there when a figure stepped in front of our path.
I cringed, sucking in a hiss. Ratty clothes, unshaven face, messy hair, beer stains on his shirt, and red-rimmed eyes—
Nyx looked terrible.
“Hey,” he muttered, head hanging to let his hair cover his face. “Hey, Edric. What’s up, man?”
Edric raked him up and down, lips curling. Turning his back on him, he walked away.
There answered the question of if Edric knew about his former hookup’s gay-bashing past, and if he’d forgiven him for it.
No and no.
“Yeah, that’s about right,” Nyx muttered, the picture of resigned.
“Did you want something?” I asked.
“Yeah. This.” Nyx shuffled in his pockets and pulled out a folded-up slip of paper. “Since you’re the headmistress now. You’ve got to sign this.”
I unfolded it, and read the line across the top. Letter of Expulsion.
Nyx held out a pen, making his intention clear.
I eyed him. “Why bother with this? You can just leave. No one’s stopping you.”
“Because once my father reads this and sees your signature at the bottom, he’ll think you threw me out over your own vendetta, and not the truth. That I washed out,” he replied, voice dead. “The difference between the former and the latter is me thrown out of the pack with my ears cut.”
I hummed. “So basically, you’re asking me for a favor. One that lets you drop being an outcast and return to your life of privilege.”
He shook his head, throat raspy. “There was nothing privileged about life in my father’s house.”
I fell quiet. For some reason, I believed him.
“That’s why I’m not staying,” Nyx went on. “I’m just going home to pack up my stuff, clean out my trust fund, and move on. There are wolf packs in Europe that take newcomers. I’ll try those.”
Without a word, I took the pen, signed it, and handed it back.
Nyx accepted the letter, but didn’t move. He stared at it for a long pause. “I am sorry, you know.” His voice was small. “For what I did to him.”
“Sure you are... now.”
He flinched. “I was sorry then too,” he cried. “I was scared and confused. I lived my whole life up till then trying to please my father and be the perfect son. I didn’t know how to handle being bi.”
I looked around, genuinely not understanding why he was choosing me of all people to unburden himself.
But then again, the guy had no friends now, and I was the only one listening.
“I get all of that, Nyx. I really do. But none of that explains why you didn’t try to make things right with Patrick after you made peace with yourself. Not even a fucking sorry.”
“It does explain it,” he rasped, bright eyes staring at the floor. “Shame. I was so fucking ashamed and disgusted with myself because I knew if I ever faced Patrick, I’d see the truth in his eyes. That I was just like my father.”
I nodded slow. “Well, if your father is an abusive bully, he’d be right. You’re exactly like him,” I returned, snapping his head up. “But don’t mind me, that’s just the opinion of Pinata de Bitch. Another victim of your bullying that you have yet to apologize to.” I sidestepped him. “Goodbye. Nyx. Have fun in Europe.”
“Daciana,” he cried, grabbing my hand. That was the first time he said my name. “Wait, please, let me—”
“—enough!”
“Whoa, man, chill out!”
“Turn it off!”
I snapped up, landing on the commotion happening on the stage.
Badr grabbed the deejay and threw him. He crashed onto a dining table and flipped it, raining glasses, plates, and macaroni and brie on himself.
The party ground to a sudden, crashing halt.
If I thought Nyx looked bad, it was nothing compared to Badr. His clothes were shredded as if he shifted in his closet and went wild, tearing and ripping everything to confetti. Wild, bloodshot eyes glared at the slack-jawed faces looking back at him.