Page 64 of Ruthless Kings of Obsession

"Whatever," he mumbles, eyes closing.

"I can always skip your next dose," I warn. "Let you enjoy a week of withdrawal symptoms."

"How do you two know each other anyway?" Ren asks, curiosity evident in his tone.

"We were best friends," I say flatly, "until he killed my parents."

Domino's eyes snap open. "I didn't—" he starts, then stops, frustration evident in his expression. "That cigarette wasn't even mine..."

"Don't start fights you can't win," I cut him off, the old anger threatening to surface. Some wounds never really heal; they just scab over, waiting to bleed again.

"Too tired for drama tonight anyway," Ren declares, dropping into another chair. He glances at Matteo for support but stops short. "Is he... actually sleeping?"

We all look at my brother, realizing that somewhere during our conversation, the leader of the Ruthless Kings had indeed dozed off. His breathing is deep and even, face relaxed in genuine rest despite being surrounded by potential threats.

"Either he's more exhausted than we thought," I muse, "or he actually feels safe around us fuckers."

"Hannah's probably lurking somewhere ready to slit our throats if we try anything," Ren suggests.

"Actually, I have a much more efficient plan for disposing of bodies," Hannah's voice comes through the room's speaker system, making us all jump. Ren clutches his chest dramatically while I sigh, noting that Domino has also succumbed to exhaustion.

"Did you check on Pigtails?" I ask Ren, watching the news continue to unfold on mute.

"Who?" He frowns, then understanding dawns. "Oh, you mean Moonflower?"

"Who the fuck is Moonflower?"

"Gemini."

"You mean Eva," I correct, then pause as we both realize the complexity of our Queen's various identities. "We need to make a damn list or something."

"She's in Zander's room," Ren says, and I nod approval. It's where she needs to be right now, where they both need her to be. "Though Hannah's got that whole wing locked down tighter than Fort Knox."

"Good." I run a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of everything we've set in motion. "We need to prepare."

"For what?"

The question hangs in the air as I consider how to explain what I sense coming. "This next enrollment at Leighton University," I finally say, choosing my words carefully, "is going to be the most ruthless of them all."

"Why do you say that?" Ren asks, but I can see in his eyes that he feels it too – the gathering storm, the sense that we're all pieces in a game whose rules we're only beginning to understand.

"Because," I gesture to the television where footage of the warehouse continues to play, "this was just the opening move. The real game hasn't even started yet."

"And what game is that exactly?"

I think about The Blind One, about burned universities and research facilities, about all the patterns I'm starting to see. "I'm not sure," I admit. "But I have a feeling we're about to find out."

The room falls silent except for the soft breathing of our sleeping Kings and the muted chaos on the television screen. Somewhere in the building, our Queen keeps vigil over her wounded King, while shadows gather at the edges of our carefully constructed world.

Fire and destruction, I think again, watching emergency lights flash across the warehouse walls on screen.They always come back around.

The question is: this time, who's holding the matches?

"Should we wake them?" Ren asks softly, nodding toward our sleeping brothers.

"Let them rest," I decide, seeing how peaceful they both look – probably for the first time in years. "Tomorrow comes soon enough."

And with it, I suspect, more flames than any of us are prepared to handle.

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