Page 30 of Kingmakers, Year Two

“Why?” Rocco says, still poking me with the knife. “Why can’t I?”

“They’ll do the same to you.”

That’s the laws of Kingmakers. If you damage another student—break their arm, cut off their hand, slit their throat . . . the same will be done to you. It’s to prevent war from breaking out between families. It’s the old law. An eye for an eye.

“That’s true,” Rocco says softly. “Except . . . you belong to me, Zoe. Your parents already signed the marriage contract. So anything I do to you . . . it’s like I did it to myself. There’s no recompense.”

I don’t know if that’s true or not.

But I really don’t want to find out.

It’s clear that Rocco believes it to be true.

“Beg me to stop,” he says. He starts to dig the knife into my flesh.

My lips are pressed tight together.

I won’t beg. I’ll never beg.

The blade bites into me and I feel something warm and wet run down from the corner of my eye, like bloody tears.

The knife feels like a hot brand. I can feel Rocco twisting it, angling the point toward my eyeball . . .

“Stop!” I cry.

“That’s not begging,” Rocco hisses.

“Please stop!”

Now I am crying actual tears. They run down both sides of my face, stinging and burning when they hit the cut on the right side.

Rocco pulls back his knife. My blood glistens on its tip.

“That’s better,” he says.

He slashes open the front of my shirt, being none too careful with the knife. It leaves shallow cuts on my chest and the tops of my breasts. He cuts my bra open too, so my tits spill out.

Now both Jasper and Wade are intently interested.

“Holy shit,” Wade says. “Who woulda thought she had a porn-star body under those nun clothes.”

“I knew,” Rocco says, in a tone of deep satisfaction.

Three pairs of eyes crawl over my bare flesh. I’ve always been ashamed of my breasts. Ashamed of my body. Not because I think it’s ugly, but because of the way it betrays me, drawing the attention of the men I least want to notice me.

“Go ahead,” Rocco says to Wade. “Touch them.”

Wade scans Rocco’s face, like he thinks it might be a trick. “You sure?”

“I’m giving you permission,” Rocco says in his soft, hissing voice.

Wade doesn’t care about my permission. He stares at my tits. All intelligence has left his face. His cheeks are flushed and there’s nothing but dull, hungry lust in his eyes.

He cups my breasts in both hands, lifting them and then dropping them. My stomach is churning. I’ve never been more humiliated.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes. “You’re gonna have so much fun with these, Rocco.”

Seeing that Rocco won’t stop him, he squeezes my breasts hard in his hands, then pinches the nipples, making me gasp.

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