Page 8 of Martyr

“He’s fine.” Lake headed toward them, stopping when Yejun sent him a dark look.

An engine roared outside, and Yejun’s gaze shifted as soon as a familiar vibrant yellow sports car pulled up directly in front of the building. Still carefully supporting Nix, he started for the door.

“You can walk,” he told Lake curtly.

“This is ridiculous.”

“I don’t know what you learned over on Vitality, but here we agreed to make all major decisionstogether,” Yejun reminded, and it was clear that he wasn’t just angry, he was also hurt. “You just screwed West and me over. You can fucking walk, your majesty.”

Both Lake and Nix flinched.

They were almost to the door by the time Nix gathered up enough courage to glance over his shoulder, sucking in a sharp breath when he found Lake already staring back at him.

The intensity in his eyes spoke volumes.

Yejun might be protectively whisking him away right now, but this wasn’t over between Nix and the Imperial Prince.

Not by a long shot.

Stubbornly, Nix lifted his chin and stepped out into the rain.

Chapter 3:

“This is so fucked,” West growled, glaring at Lake from the end of the couch. He remained standing, but the chaotic energy practically buzzed off of him like electricity.

Nix was starting to get used to his temperament—to all of theirs. After only a couple of weeks, he felt like he understood their dynamic a little bit better and knew when to avoid each of them because of their mood.

He leaned in closer to Yejun, who was seated next to him on top of the coffee table, tending to the tear in his neck.

The same table the three of them had pinned him over and stripped him on at the start of the semester. Ironic, that now one of them was using it to take care of him instead of humiliate him.

Although, even this was sort of another way they could put him in his place, was it not?

Nix’s eyes trailed over to Lake who was lounging in the armchair, clearly trying to block out West’s complaining. He’d only arrived a few minutes ago, and his clothes and platinum blond hair were soaked from the rain. It didn’t seem to bother him that he was going to ruin the leather by sitting on it sopping wet.

“The wound is deep,” Yejun announced. He was dabbing at the bite mark with an alcohol swab, his expression no less furious than West’s. “You didn’t have to injure him this badly.”

“It got the point across,” Lake drawled.

West’s fists tightened at his sides but he held himself back. “Asshole, this wasn’t part of the plan!”

“What do you care?” Almost lazily, his green eyes blinked open and he rolled his head on the headrest to face West. “You didn’t even want him, remember?”

“That was before.”

“Before?” Lake lifted a thin, pale brow. “Before what, exactly? Before I wanted him badly enough to—”

“Cut the shit,” Yejun stopped them. “This isn’t the time or place for one of your guys’ pissing contests. We should take him to the hospital.”

“No!” Nix pulled away, but since there wasn’t anywhere to go, only ended up sliding a couple of inches on the table before pausing. Out of the three of them, Yejun was the one he felt the most comfortable with. “The hospital will have to report it.”

“An official statement will be made eventually anyway,” Lake said. “Don’t tell me you’re hoping you’ll get infected and be spared a lifetime by my side, Songbird?”

Nix scowled, but West jumped to his defense.

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to announce to the whole damn planet you’ve abused him and treated him like property.” West ran a hand over his shaved head and then rested them on his hips, pensive for a moment before asking, “Why’d you do it? This is extreme even for you.”

“I’d like an answer to that as well,” Yejun stated. Then he gently placed a palm over Nix’s thigh and coaxed him back over to his side. “I’m almost done cleaning this up. Let me finish.”

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