I couldn’t find the energy to do anything but stare back at her blankly.
She waited for me to freak out.
My lips curled downward in a frown as I took in her battered appearance.
Jinx’s advice about doing the right thing pounded against my skull.
I rubbed at my chilled arms, and my fingers snagged on stitches. I hadn’t even realized I was still wearing my tattered sweatshirt.
“I’m sorry about Tara.” I pushed my pipe between my lips but kept my eyes locked on hers.
I let her see my regret.
Sari’s pretty face contorted into something hideous. “How dare you say her name,” she spat. “You didn’t save her.”
I nodded and refused to look away like a coward. “I know. And every day, I regret that I didn’t get there sooner.”
Sari’s eyes widened. “Please,” she wheezed harshly. “You were there in time. You just froze. If you’d acted sooner, she’d still be alive.”
I rubbed my eyes.
Thought back to the night.
Everything was a twisted blur of drugs and intoxication.
Loud music. Dancing. Running through the hall frantically. Horace leaning over Sari, killing her. Tara dead on the floor. Stabbing Horace as I straddled him.
“She was already dead.” My voice cracked. “On the floor.”
Sari leaned closer. “She was still breathing, and you paused and wasted time. Time that could have been used to save her.”
She spat onto the floor in front of me.
I rubbed at my face with both my hands, my harsh movements opening the stitches on my face.
Blood dripped.
The man on the sacred tree gurgled louder, and it sounded like he was crying for help.
“I know. I should have done more,” I said defeatedly. “You’re right.”
Sari’s voice was filled with abject loathing. “You’re a disgusting, worthless person.”
I could feel how much she hated me; it was a tangible energy between us.
My shoulders slumped, and I nodded at her. “I know.”
“Go back to your royal table, you useless whore,” Malum snapped, and his voice was harsher than I’d heard it in a long time. I’d forgotten how cruel he could be.
The students who were taking their seats around us froze.
Sari gave me one last glare before she stomped back across the room to her seat.
Like a zombie I turned around and walked toward the dais.
An arm settled around my shoulders, and I relaxed against it, then instantly stiffened when I realized it didn’t smell of sandalwood and the body was taller.
Bergamot and musk filled my senses.
“What are you doing?” I asked Scorpius as I tried to disentangle myself from him.
His arm tightened painfully so I couldn’t move.
“She’s wrong,” he said viciously.
I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, because she’s a worthless woman.” I sucked in enchanted smoke. “No. She’s right.”
Scorpius laughed cruelly. “No.” His fingernails gouged the back of my neck. “She’s wrong because she’s a na?ve, sheltered fool just like the rest of them.” He gestured his head toward where the students sat.
“Whatever.” I blew out a cloud of smoke, not caring what one of the academy’s biggest bullies had to say.
“He’s right,” Malum dipped his head to whisper in my ear as he walked past.
I blinked at his retreating form.
He glanced back over his shoulder, and at my inquisitive look, a blush stained the tops of his cheeks.
A queasy sensation filled my gut.
For a second, Malum looked young.
I always thought of him as someone who was over one hundred years old like Jax, but it struck me for the first time that he was young. Someone had said he was turning thirty.
When it came to immortality, that was nothing.
Yet he already seemed to have the weight of the world on his shoulders. Was that why he was so harsh all the time?
Sun god, ever since the second competition, he’d been confusing.
I felt like I didn’t know who he was anymore.
When we got to our table, Scorpius let me go so I could sit down, but he didn’t walk around the table to his seat.
He grabbed my shoulders with both his hands and stood behind me.
He squeezed.
“Ow, can you stop hurting me?” I snapped at him.
He loomed above me.
“The students at this academy think they’re powerful leaders.” He bared his teeth. “They’re nothing but political sheep who rely on us to keep the realms safe for them. That pathetic girl who spoke to you has never had to wield a blade. She’s never taken a life. And yet she judges you for the speed at which you killed your own friend to save her worthless existence.”
His nails dug deeper into my skin as he leaned closer.
He whispered into my ear, “The ones who never sully their souls will only ever cast judgment on those drenched in shadows, because darkness is power. The weak fear what they are not.”
I puffed out smoke and tried to shove him off me.
It was like trying to push an immovable force.
After a couple awkward seconds of shoving with no results, Scorpius released me and walked away slowly. The bastard was definitely emphasizing that he was leaving by choice and not because I’d made him.
“That doesn’t even make any sense,” I said with annoyance as he took his seat.
Arms crossed in front of his chest, Scorpius sat back in his chair and smirked. “It’s not my problem if you’re not smart enough to get it.”
Please. We both knew I was intelligent.
I sucked in enchanted smoke and tossed back at him, “They muddy the waters to make them seem deep.”
It was Jinx’s favorite quote from Nietzsche.
Scorpius speared a piece of steak with his knife and brought it to his lips. “Sounds like something someone would say if they didn’t understand.”
He chewed aggressively.
I opened my mouth to reply but stopped as John huffed and took his seat next to me. “What did I miss? What don’t we understand?”
“Our souls are corrupted, and we’re awful people,” I said at the same time that Scorpius replied, “Arabella let a pathetic sheep tell her she was a bad person.”
Malum made a weird growling noise, and Orion raised his eyebrows at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Obviously, we’re not the good guys,” I said sarcastically.
John scooted his chair closer to me. “We kill because someone has to do it. That doesn’t make us evil.”
I choked on the piece of broccoli I’d shoved into my mouth. Swallowing thickly, I said, “Uh, we’re definitely evil.”
As if I’d entered an alternate universe, everyone at the table burst into laughter. Loud, boisterous chuckles.
The demons slapped the table.
The kings clutched their stomachs.
John clapped me on my back and grinned. “Good one, bestie. That’s like saying that fire in the hearth doesn’t scream.”
“Could you imagine not hearing the screams of the dying?” Scorpius sneered between laughter.
The men shook their heads and chuckled harder.
He confirmed what I’d already deduced: we all heard the screams of the dying in fire because we were killers.
We’d all done horrible things.