“No, no, no,” he repeated pathetically.
Orion laughed cruelly. “No, no, no,” he mocked.
I bared my teeth.
Adrenaline and satisfaction coursed through me in an intoxicating rush. They’d touched what wasn’t theirs to touch, and they’d died.
I didn’t need to use my powers to know that justice had been served.
“You can’t just do that,” the man whimpered in Corvus’s grip and kicked out desperately.
“Here’s the thing,” Corvus growled. “You messed with her when she was clearly drunk. You knew she’d experienced trauma and was in a delicate state.” His voice got deeper as he shook with rage. “You don’t get to take advantage of her. She’s our teammate. She’s ours.”
He said “teammate” like it meant something else to him.
I understood exactly what he was saying, and I agreed.
Orion and I moved closer.
The three of us surrounded the remaining commoner so our much larger bodies blocked him from view of the rest of the party.
People danced against our backs.
The floor shook as students jumped to the pounding beat.
The man kicked out desperately and said, “Queen Aran wanted it.”
Corvus laughed cruelly.
Orion and I smiled.
“No, she didn’t,” Corvus scoffed.
He sobbed brokenly, “This isn’t fair.” The air whirled as he kicked and punched aimlessly. He was also an air nymph. “She’s our queen. We worship her. It’s different.”
Corvus’s flames crackled louder in the wind.
“Wrong,” I sneered as I reached out, wrapped my fingers around his throat, and squeezed.
“She’s not yours,” Orion said.
Corvus said darkly, “She’s so much better than you that you’re not fit to lick her boots.”
The man went limp beneath my hands as he passed out from lack of oxygen.
Students yelled lyrics and laughed as bodies pressed together. If anyone noticed the kings were surrounding a student, they ignored it.
We ran this academy for a reason.
We were kings of the deadliest race in the realms.
A god had chosen us to be his killers.
We’d earned every title we had with blood and sheer power.
Muscles twitched beneath my fingers as the fae regained consciousness. He begged pitifully, “Please stop, I won’t touch her again.”
“You’re right.” Corvus slammed his fist into the commoner’s stomach.
Organs exploded.
I tightened my grip on his neck so he couldn’t move.
He gurgled in pain.
Orion punched him in his back, and bones cracked. My fingers squeezed so he couldn’t scream. Corvus punched him in the nose, and blood sprayed against my face.
I smiled at the savagery.
It was ecstasy.
Finally, it felt like I was doing something right.
The constant need that plagued me, the itchiness that made my skin feel too tight, disappeared.
For the first time in years, I was at peace.
We didn’t have any weapons to dole out our punishment, and we couldn’t use our powers. All we had were our fists, and it made it so much sweeter.
Orion and Corvus didn’t pull their punches like we had with Aran when we were playing with him.
No.
This wasn’t about asserting dominance.
This was about punishing.
Sending a message.
Blood sprayed, bones cracked, and cartilage snapped as Orion and Corvus whaled on the man with everything they had.
I held him in place.
Choked him so he couldn’t say a word.
“What are they doing?” Arabella’s voice slurred somewhere in the crowd behind us.
Luka said something, but I didn’t catch it.
Arabella made an annoyed noise. “No, I want to see.” Her voice was closer.
“She’s nearby,” I warned my mates.
Corvus and Orion didn’t stop punching, their fists slamming against flesh with a frenzied speed.
A lesser species of immortal would have been long dead.
Corvus said, “Don’t let her see.”
I stepped to the side and dropped the commoner so his abused body thudded down at our feet, but Arabella moved quicker.
The surrounding students stopped dancing and made noises of surprise.
“Look away,” Corvus ordered them.
Footsteps pounded as the students resumed dancing and singing like they hadn’t seen a thing.
Arabella made a harsh noise and said, “Let him go.” She’d pushed past me and from the sound of her ragged gasps, she was staring down at the man at our feet.
“No, sweetheart,” Orion whispered. Crunch. He slammed his foot into the bloody body to punctuate his point. “He touched you, and you’re drunk.” He stomped viciously.
Blood splattered.
Corvus swore and yanked Orion off the body. “Not with her watching.”
“But he didn’t do anything wrong?” Arabella asked, her intoxicated voice filled with confusion.
“He took advantage of you,” I said darkly.
Arabella whimpered, “It wasn’t like that.”
Corvus swore and tugged her away from us. “Don’t think about it,” he said as I heard him shuffle to shield her view with his body. “They deserved it.”
I nodded in agreement.
We didn’t like what had happened with John during the punishment, but we understood the circumstances had demanded it. Also, none of us would ever admit it, but we recognized that John helped her.
What he did for her.
It was different, and we all knew it.
Meanwhile the piece of shit at our feet was nothing. A random man who thought he could touch what wasn’t his because she was famous. He thought he could put his dick near a queen.
My hands shook with rage.
The fool thought he could go above his station and touch his betters. I stomped down on his crotch.
Arabella made a pained noise as she tried to tug away from Corvus.
“Go with Luka.” He gently transferred her into the other man’s arms.
Corvus walked back to us, and I asked, “We’re not going to kill him, right?”
“Fuck no,” Corvus said. “We’ll send a message to the rest of the school. He’ll live. But he’ll wish he hadn’t.”
Orion whispered, “They’ll know…”
“…what happens when you mess with Arabella,” I finished his sentence.
Everyone knew that death was justice. It was a blessing. We’d killed the two men because we were merciful and the punishment fit the crime.
The music switched to a slower song.
I walked over and pulled my mates against me.
And we danced.
A few feet away, a bloody carcass moaned in agony as feet jumped around him in rhythm with the song.
He would suffer.
He would wish he were dead.
But he would live.
That was his punishment, and it fit his crime. He’d learned just what it meant when people whispered that we weren’t normal men.
We were devils of the House of Malum.
We hoarded and protected what was ours.
Violently.
No exceptions.
Chapter 32
Aran
POST PARTY
Metamorphosis—Day 42, hour 5
The music shut off.
I sat up in bed with a gasp as I looked around. From the swirly feeling in my head and the drunk laughter outside the door, the last partygoer had just left. Luka was sprawled out snoring beside me.