Page 1 of Wild Fury (Fallen Royals 6)

Lux

I’ve always felt a little different.

Off.

I’ve traced back my origins, struggling to figure out where I went awry. When, on my timeline, my brain cracked open and let in all the darkness. And let out the light.

When I’m still and quiet, I can sometimes feel traces of that happiness. It’s easy to see in other people—they practically glow with happiness, so bright my eyes burn.

As a result, I’m rarely still.

And I’m rarely quiet.

But all that worry of being different, abnormal, a freak… it all skidded to a halt when I met him. A boy who seemed to shoot darkness out at the world was suddenly in my peripheral. And then right in front of me.

And then towering above me.

He can’t see it.

I distinctly remember climbing to my feet and chasing after him, but then I stopped. I watched.

He was different.

Like me.

And I needed to understand him more than I needed to understand anything in my life.

So, my hunt began… and I made him notice me. I stood in the brilliance of everyone else and showed him everything I had. The nightmares and the demons that wouldn’t release me. The midnight black of my soul.

But he didn’t want me.

He wanted a fight.

And wouldn’t you know it? That’s exactly what I wanted, too.

1

Lux

My sister has abandoned me at the edge of the party. I can’t really blame her—it was our parents who dragged her off to talk to strangers. People they want to impress or are trying to win over. They know better than to bring me into the fold, and so I was told to stay.

Like a dog.

I try not to let that bother me, but here we are. I’m sulking in the corner, almost out of reach of the lights, and letting the loneliness get the worst of me.

“Can I get you a drink, little Page?”

I narrow my eyes at Wilder DeSantis. He’s my sister’s fiancé, and the reason we’re here. The engagement party is a sham, and an uncomfortable one. I’m pretty sure only the old people are having fun.

“Champagne? Or maybe something stronger?”

“No.” I cross my arms and ignore the chill seeping through my dress.

“Not even a ‘no, thank you?’” He chuckles. “I’m glad Amelie has more grace than you.”

“Well, some say I was raised by wolves.” I bare my teeth. “Do you believe them?”

He gestures for me to follow him. For some reason, I’m curious to hear his answer. I haunt his steps across the back of the lawn, to one of the bar stands. I don’t catch what he says to the bartender, only that the worker’s eyes skate over me before returning to his drinks. A moment later, Wilder pushes a cold glass into my hand.

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