Page 43 of Wicked Games (Fallen Royals 2)

“Touché.”

“Margo,” Caleb greets me. He reaches out and runs his hand down my arm, lifting my hand. He pushes my jacket sleeve up to expose my bare wrist. His fingers are cold.

Goosebumps break out along my arms and back.

Disappointment flashes across his face, then the mask is back in place. How he slides it on so precisely reminds me of the masquerade ball. The cool gold against my skin.

“You know what you have to do,” he says. Then he drops my hand, stepping back. He turns and goes back to his circle of friends, offering his arm to Amelie.

And oh, my blood boils.

“Did he really just do that?” Riley hisses.

I look away. “He wouldn’t do anything with her.”

Except, I’m not so sure. We’re not together—she’s fair game.

The bell rings, the doors swinging open, and Caleb breaks away from Amelie. He’s swept away by Liam and Theo—intentionally or not, I can’t tell.

We don’t move while students push past us, eager to escape the cold.

Savannah weaves through the students, headed directly for… us.

“What do you think she wants?” I ask.

“To rub in her hatred of you? Or admit that she sent the creepy texts?” Riley asks. “Could be anything.”

Savannah stops in front of me. “Margo.”

“Savannah,” I reply.

“I have an offer for you.”

The need to ask her about sending the picture to Caleb is overwhelming. My desperation for answers is going to show at any minute.

I manage to only say, “Oh?”

She extends her hand. “I propose a truce. We’ll be friends again.”

I snort and glance sideways at Riley. “Is she serious?”

Savannah huffs, rolling her eyes. Her hand is still out, her fingers wiggling slightly. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to suck me down into your outcast circle. If anything, I’ll elevate your status… so it won’t matter if you’re on the outs with Caleb or not.”

The kids in this school can’t seem to make up their minds about who they hate. But at the moment, it’s me. And it’s wearing on Riley, too. She hasn’t said anything about it, but I picked up the comments made about her.

I hate it.

“Riley, too,” I say.

“Fine.”

I raise my eyebrow. “And why are you proposing a truce? Now?”

“Let me guess.” Savannah crosses her arms. “Amelie dove on you like a vulture on roadkill. Saying you guys needed to take a stand against Caleb, how proud she was that you broke up with him, yadda yadda.”

I stare at her.

“She pulled the same shit on me,” she mutters. “And then she started dating him.”

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