Page 6 of Wicked Court

Students part for me, making way for whatever they think I am—or perhaps who they hope I might be.

My last class before lunch is across campus, a lecture on ancient civilizations that I find utterly captivating. The professor, Dr. Harlow, with his tweed jacket and passion for Mesopotamia, often lingers on my thoughts longer than the subject itself.

I am an unabashed history nerd. It’s part of what got me to attend Titan Falls with its rich history of accused witches in the 1700s and a missing treasure alleged to be hidden by them before they died. Ancient, missing artifacts are particularly captivating.

Well, that and Titan Falls University was supposed to be my brother’s alma mater. I always wanted to follow in his footsteps, even when he tried to ignore me and called me his invisible friend to his buddies.

Thoughts of my brother quickly spiral into worries over my mother, so I staunch them before they become so overwhelming, reining in my emotions with practiced control. I switch my mind over, like the flip of a page in an old, well-used book, and return to campus life.

Slipping inside the lecture hall just as Dr. Harlow begins his discourse on the Sumerians, I strive to keep my attention focused despite the persistent prickling at the back of my head. Dr. Harlow usually grabs my attention easily, regaling the class with tales of gods and kings, of love and war.

Yet, despite the allure of ancient civilizations, my stomach churns and twists at the mere thought of who sits in the back row, staring down the class like kings themselves.

I’m loved and accepted by everyone on campus.

Except for them.

Chapter 3

Cav

The scent of decay permeates the ancient lecture hall as Elara Wraithwood’s soft laugh slices through the professor’s monotonic drone.

There she is, the sacrosanct campus darling.

Sprawled in the back row, my boots lazily propped on the chair ahead, I watch her every move with an intensity that borders on obsession. Alongside me are the boys, my loyal comrades, equally captivated by her presence.

If only she knew the lengths we’re willing to go to make her scream. She’d never laugh that softly again.

Ever since a Sovereign handed her name to me on a piece of paper, Elara’s image has haunted not only my dreams but also my waking hours. Her light, freckled skin and thick, reddish-brown hair have etched themselves into the depths of my mind, but soon she’ll see us as more than just the bored kings of campus.

We’ve been given a toy.

A possessive hunger stirs within me.

“She’s like a walking campus brochure,” I comment quietly to Kaspian, Wilder, and Axe. A hint of contempt laces my voice.

They smirk, knowing I speak the truth. Elara’s popularity, the way she prances around TFU like she belongs here, her niceness and inclusion of everyone, makes me want to ruin her. She’s like a politician without a black, corrupt heart. Her upbeat nature makes me want to gag.

There’s a flit of movement to my left, distracting me, and I look down and to the side.

Wilder’s busy fisting his cock under his chair’s fold-up desk, his stare locked on the back of Elara’s head.

“Are you that starved of pussy?” I murmur.

“Nah.” He grunts, his jerks coming faster. “I love them peppy. You’d be surprised how much of that school spirit is used to suck cock. I’d shove my dick so far into her pretty mouth, she’d cry happy tears all the way through.”

Wilder stiffens then groans as he bends forward, owning his public cumming by continuing to stare at her through his lashes and hissing through his teeth. Tendons pop into his forearm as he rubs his dick raw.

“Now how the fuck are you going to clean that up?” Kaspian asks idly on my other side, his fingers flicking across his tablet while he reads more about Elara.

With his quick mind and unsettling focus on tasks he deems worth his time, he’ll dig up every single detail in this girl’s life, right down to a lice breakout in her daycare when she was three.

My stare narrows on Kaspian’s tablet while in my periphery, Wilder pulls his hand out of his pants and reaches behind me to rub it on Kaspian’s shirt.

With a growl an alpha wolf would be proud of, Kaspian retaliates by lashing out and pressing a nerve near Wilder’s ear that incapacitates and makes him resemble sitting on an electric chair.

All this happens behind my shoulders while I gaze at Kaspian’s screen with growing concern.

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