Page 44 of Wicked Court

As for Kaspian, he’s his own person. One that a demon uses for a host.

I slip inside the classroom right on the bell and pretend to search for a seat while I scope out Elara.

When I finally spot her, I’m not disappointed. Her mane of hair cascades in waves down her back, the tips brushing against the richly colored leather of the chair below her. Her posture is perfect, back straight, shoulders pulled back, as she listens intently to the eloquent ramblings of our TA about the upcoming lecture.

The sight of her so absorbed makes something warm unravel in my chest. I want a thousand reasons to stay away from her, but my body has another idea.

Just as I slide into the vacant seat beside hers, she glances over at me. The surprise in her gaze is brief, but there, before it’s hidden under suspicion and mulish defiance.

Amusement tugs at my lips.

I understand Cav, Wilder, and Kaspian’s complaints about her stubborn refusal to let them intimidate or frighten her into doing what they want—their favorite tactic. Probably because it’s used on us all the time.

I can’t even feign an interest in the professor as he begins with Elara in the room, her gold-soaked eyes flickering to me every once in a while before she returns her attention to the front.

“No use in staring,” I murmur low, so only she can hear me over the professor. “You know you don’t have a chance with us.”

“Oh?” she drawls back, voice dripping with disdain. “Didn’t realize I wanted one.”

Her comment stings, and I grip my pen tighter.

She has no idea how much I wish it were that simple.

Of course she wants nothing to do with me. I’m Axton Devereaux, the family’s only son and bound for the decrepit basement of the empires Cav, Wilder, and Kaspian will eventually own. Even with my mother being who she is—was—I’m still nothing more than a consolation prize, destined to live out my days as a part of the Court, but never a full member.

Unless I can find that damned ruby.

Despite everything—losing my mother young, the foster care system that broke more than it fixed, and battling every day with the fog in my brain—I’ve clung to one truth: the ruby Heart is my chance to rewrite my story.

I swear under my breath as Elara’s heel bumps mine under the desk, effectively ruining my attempt at focusing on anything other than her and her too-soft eyes.

Repeating the sentence in my head, I remind myself I’ll be a true Devereaux, someone whose very name will inspire respect and obedience.

The thought sits heavily on my mind as the professor drones on about media studies and their impact on society. As if any of that matters when the Court is still fighting over a gemstone about which we know so little.

I’ve barely paid attention to the last twenty minutes of the lecture when Elara rises from her desk, slides her notebook into her bag, and strides towards the door.

Escaping me so soon?

I have to act now, before I lose my nerve. Before Cav or Wilder or even Kaspian gets wind of me hesitating where it comes to the, in their words, “fucking Wraithwood girl.”

My heart thuds in my chest as I quickly pack my things and follow her out.

The second we’re out of earshot, she whirls on me with her hands on her hips.

“What do you want, Axe?” she spits out. “You and your little friends have been following me for days?—”

“—I just want to talk,” I interject smoothly, hands raised in surrender. “I’m not here to push you around or bully you or any of that. Swear.”

She side-eyes me like I’ve just offered her a road trip around the rings of Saturn.

“Your recent experience tells you otherwise, I know,” I say. “But if you want my opinion?—”

“—I don’t.”

“Hear me out. If you want my opinion,” I repeat, “I think the boys got it wrong. I’d rather approach you with reason. We want something from you, yes, but you should also get something from us in return.”

She doesn’t immediately walk away. It’s a small victory, and I’ll take it.

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