Page 77 of Spearcrest Prince

Agreeing that what I wanted was my freedom.

When all I really want is to have Anaïs in my arms, in my bed. To have her naked and soft and vulnerable underneath me, to touch her all over and to make her come over and over again, with my mouth, my fingers, my cock.

I don’t even want to sleep with her and send her away—I want to sleep with her and lie in bed with our bodies tangled together. Talk, laugh, argue, fight, and play with her.

What I want isn’t a fake fiancée, or an ally, or a fuck buddy.

It’s a relationship.

“Putain de fucking merde,” I bite out.

I’msittinginthecentre of the sixth form boys’ common room. The other Young Kings are all here too. And given we represent the elite of Spearcrest, we form a sad lot.

Evan is half-collapsed on one couch, frowning at the inside of a Shakespeare play.

Zachary sits with his legs crossed elegantly at the ankles, his fingers steepled together, his eyes glazed over in sinister thought. He looks like a movie villain plotting some terrible scheme.

Iakov, reeking of cigarettes and looking like he’s not had a good night’s sleep in weeks, is lying down flat on the floor, eyes closed.

I’m glaring at my empty notifications and brooding over a cup of black coffee.

Luca, who has training on weekend mornings, is last to stride into the common room. A stark contrast to the rest of us, he seems refreshed and in high cheer. His cold grey eyes rake over us, and he lets out a sneer.

“What a pathetic sight.”

“What’s your problem?” Evan asks, glaring up at him.

“I don’t have one,” Luca says. “I’m in rather a good mood today, actually. Archery went exceptionally well. Maybe it’s because, unlike the rest of you, no girl has me by the balls.”

“That’s because no girl wants to be near your angry dick,” Zach drawls without opening his eyes. “They’re probably scared acid might come out of it when you come.”

“I assure you, girls don’t have a problem with me and my angry dick.” Luca sits down and raises an eyebrow. “Some girls even prefer an angry dick.”

“Who knows what girls even want,” Evan mutters from behind his book.

“Probably the same thing we want,” Zachary says drily. “You know, a modicum of respect and honesty?”

“Some girls crave chaos,” Luca says.

“Girls want safety,” Iakov snaps from the floor. “Not chaos.”

“You’re an expert on girls now?” Luca sneers.

But Zachary sits up and glances down at Iakov with an expression of concern.

“Everything alright, Kavinski?” he asks.

Iakov grunts a vaguely affirmative response. Zachary, still frowning, relaxes slightly in his seat.

Evan suddenly looks up from his book. “I don’t get it. What does Laertes mean when he says: ‘the canker galls the infants of the spring, too oft before their buttons be disclosed’? What does he mean by infants? He doesn’t want Ophelia to get pregnant?”

We all turn to look at him. Even Iakov cracks one eye open to ask, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“He’s not talking about infants. He’s talking about flowers.” Zachary sighs.

Evan pulls a face of complete incredulity. “He’s talking about flowers?” He glares back down at his book. “That makes even less sense!”

Zachary rolls his eyes. “He’s telling Ophelia not to sleep with Hamlet because he’ll take her virginity and ruin her.”

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