Fate of a Royal (Lords of Rathe, #1)(3)
Only this time, there’s no one there…
Two
Knight
Creed passes me another cup of shitty stale beer, the irritation on his face mirroring my own. If we knew the Giftless would be going cheap tonight, we would have found ourselves someone to play with at the game and headed straight to party with our own kind from there.
It takes a fuck ton of liquor for us to get a buzz on, let alone faded, which is exactly what I’m trying to do after the week I’ve had. Shit…after the month I’ve had.
My brothers and I spent most of summer at our family’s estate up north before we had to report back for practice. Why we bother with pre-season preparations, I don’t know.
We’re superior to the Giftless in every way, but I guess that’s the whole point. We’re forced to live at this fucking school for four years, so of course they dumb down our sport for the useless sake of the humans surrounding us. We’re not allowed to use our gifts in any way.
Reason number one-fucking-hundred forcing the graduated gifted to attend Rathe U is bullshit.
No motherfucker should be allowed to tell us when we can and can’t use the abilities we were born with, yet here we are, playing by their rules just so we can have some sort of time on the ice while we’re stuck here.
Creed goes along with it, ever the fucking diplomat when others are looking, but Sinner feels the same way as me when it comes to rules and regulations—he fucking hates and ignores them.
Our youngest brother, Legend, feels the same , but he’ll bend when he feels it’s right.
Sin and me? Ask us when it’s “right” not to stand superior to everyone else, and we’ll tell you never. Not fucking ever.
To think differently is to spit on our kind and pretend you did so to polish it, when really, it’s about control. We’re not meant to be controlled. It’s unnatural.
Of course, not everyone agrees, but the fuck do I care?
Sin and I get up to what some would call shady shit, and they might not be wrong if they’re thinking with the humanity we all possess. So while we think they’re fucking fools, we’re not about to waste our time forcing them to see it. We leave that to our old man until the crown is passed down and we’re forced to worry about that shit. And by we, I mean Creed.
Anyway, we’ve been back at Rathe U for a little over six weeks now, and since the day we portaled back into Daragan, this poor excuse of a town, my nerves have been shot. Last year was no more than the bullshit I expected it to be, not to mention a total waste of our time, but there’s something about this semester that’s got me on edge, and I don’t fucking like it. It’s got nothing to do with the trials we’ll be forced to face soon; I know where I belong when it comes to Light and Dark magic.
Sin says we need to play a little harder, but we’ve tried that, and still I’m in a constant state of I wanna rip your fucking head off.
And if the pretty boy of Rathe U, Zeke Mortar, doesn’t stop looking my way, I’m going to tear his teeth from his skull, including the ones that haven’t shown themselves yet, and stab him in the eyes with them.
Gotta say, it’s a compelling way to force our coaches to stop pretending Zeke’s half as good as Legend and making them split time on the ice. That shit would never fly in Rathe, but with the human world comes human politics and a twisted type of daddy ball is the shit they’re playing here.
Or mommy ball, since the coaches do it all to please the headmaster of Rathe U.
Pathetic.
“Boy wants his pretty white hair turned to ash, don’t he?” My boy Silver walks up.
I scoff, loudly saying, “I’m starting to think he wants my cock.”
Zeke looks off, bringing his bottle to his lips and I smirk at Silver.
He shakes his head with a grin, steps between our small circle, and plops down next to Creed. He elbows him lightly in the ribs.
“Easy win for us tonight, eh, captain?”
“When isn’t it?” He finishes off his fourth cup, still stone-cold sober and growing more irritable by the second. “Even without using our gifts, the competition is weak. No stamina.” His dark-blue eyes flick up to mine, narrowing. “You pick one yet?”
“Sin’s on the prowl tonight. All I gotta do is wait for him to bring one back.” I smirk, kicking my leg out.
“Well, find him,” he snaps, his own need to get laid clouding that genius brain of his. “Tell him to stop being fucking picky. I’m ready to get to the Rathe U party.”
I stare at my oldest brother for a minute. For no other reason than the pleasure that licks across my skin like a shot of toxic adrenaline when I refuse to follow an order. It’s a sick satisfaction I get, one our parents have very vocally attested I do, but Creed and I both know he isn’t giving me a fight right now. He just wants us to hurry the fuck up and steal some chick’s mind so we can get to the real fun of the night.
Finally, my brother’s low chuckle fills the air and he looks off. “Dick.”
The corner of my mouth hooks higher and I pull out my phone to call Sin, but then the dozens of voices fade away, the music cuts out, and pure silence fills my ears as my senses double down. Like a wave, they burst out of me, strong and vast, an invisible force to the Giftless and Gifted alike.