Page 11 of Soulless Rivalry

ELYSSA

There was something about the scent of books that automatically put my mind at ease. I loved living in the castle, but my favorite part of the property was the mid-seventeenth-century library that stretched over three floors.

The ground floor was mostly full of dark wooden tables to study, each illuminated by little lamps. The upper levels were where you could find all the books, each carefully put away on huge mahogany shelves, with a handful of tables hidden between aisles for those, like me, who preferred being alone.

The library’s architecture made it that it was open at its heart, with each floor connected by a spiraling staircase. Railings on each of them also gave a clear view down on the ground floor. That layout made everything that happened down there echo up to the upper levels.

Given how early it was in the school year—today was our first official day—the building was mostly empty.

I liked that. Growing up as an outsider in my own home, solitude was my best friend. I learned to entertain myself from a young age so being alone didn’t bother me.

Stretching my whole body to reach a higher shelf, I was startled when a hand came out from behind me to grab the book for me. The scent of musk and citrus wafted to my nostrils and I recognized the person behind me before I even saw him. Gasping, I spun around and pushed my back against the wooden furniture.

There he was, standing tall and looking down at me with an arrogant air to him.

He looked focused, ruthless.

Like he was here to collect.

“Hey there,moshennik.” His voice was such a contrast to the rigidness of his body. It wasn’t soft per se, but it wasn’t as aggressive as his stance.

“What do you want?”

“Just making sure you remember your place.”

“My place?” I seethed.

He was already close to me, only a few inches away but he got closer even when I said that. His hand that wasn’t still clutching the book I had been looking for grabbed a shelf right over my head, and he was always so careful not to touch me.

“Your place.” He nodded. “Right under my thumb.”

Konstantin looked satisfied, but he was not smiling. He rarely did. The closer he ever came to it was those annoying smirks he liked to throw me whenever his grade came slightly above mine.

“I’m not under anyone’s thumb.”

“Aren’t you? What about our little secret?”

“What secret? You got no proof,” I spat.

“In this school, my word is proof enough.” I hated how true that was. “But let’s test it out. I’m sure your cunt of a grandfather will be happy to get his ass to Longfield for a little chat with the dean.”

I gulped, swallowing down my nerves and anger. Again, everything he’d said was true. At the end of the day, it was his word against mine, but I still couldn’t afford the scandal this would provoke and for it to come to my grandfather’s ears.

“What do you want, Korolov?” I growled.

He smirked, the movement bringing my eyes down to his lips.

One thing I hated about him was how attractive he was physically. While his personality was awful, he looked so good it could almost make you forget about it. Dirty blond hair, bright blue eyes, and pink lips that hid the whitest teeth I’d ever seen. Our proximity also made our size difference so fucking obvious. He seemed larger than life next to me. Hard and cut, with large shoulders and a narrow waist.

His eyes never left mine as he purposely let the book he’d picked for me fall to the ground. The sound resounded around us in an almost deafening thud, but I didn’t let my gaze waver.

“Pick it up.” His order made my blood boil; I narrowed my eyes at him because, surely, he was not serious.

“Excuse me?”

“We already established you were a fraud, but I didn’t think it extended to the point of you not understanding basic English.”

I gritted my teeth, a part of me wanted nothing more than to send my forehead smashing against his teeth, but I refrained.

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