Then I ram my knees between his shoulder blades, pinning him down. His arm is still in my grip, wrenched all the way back. The rage is still burning red inside me, urging me to keep pulling until I hear a crack or a crunch until he’s screaming and bleeding and—
“Sev.” A hand lands on my shoulder. “Let him go.”
I look up. Through the crimson mist of violence and adrenaline, I see Iakov’s face, his almond-shaped eyes narrowed, fixed on me.
“Come on,” he says slowly. “Let go, man.”
I look down at Pembroke’s face. It’s pressed into the floor, pale and gleaming with sweat. His eyes are wide with fear, wet with tears of pain. He looks… pathetic.
I let go of his arm but don’t get off him straight away. Instead, I move my knee to the back of his neck and press down hard, drawing a strangled whimper from him.
“Remember this, you stupid piece of shit. I don’t need to get my friends to beat you up. And if you ever so much as go near Anaïs, I’ll break every part of you. I’ll destroy you and your pathetic life. Do you understand? She’s mine,enculé!Myfucking fiancée,myfucking wife—mine!”
My voice has risen to a roar. Iakov grabs my arm, pulling me away.
I stand and straighten my clothes. My hair is wet when I brush it back. I look down at my hand, assuming it’s sweat, but I see blood.
The crowd of students parts, and Mr Ambrose strides calmly towards me. He stands for a moment in complete silence, looking from me to Pembroke.
“Everyone, please exit the dining hall so that our kind staff may clean it.” His voice is cold and hard as marble. “Mr Pembroke, Mr Montcroix. My office. Now.”
Chapter 30
Putain d’Idiot
Séverin
AfterMrAmbroseisdone with me and Pembroke, he sends us both to the infirmary. The two school nurses take us to opposite ends of the room, but I don’t bother to look at Pembroke.
He’s a worm, a nothing. He tried coming for a Young King but couldn’t put his money where his mouth is. I doubt he’ll trouble me again.
The nurse cleans my face. My left eye is bruised and swollen, and I have a cut above my eye where Pembroke’s face broke the skin. The nurse makes me sit in silence while she cleans the wound, then seals it shut with surgical glue.
Once she’s done, she dresses the wound, hands me an ice pack and tells me to stay and rest for a bit.
I lie back on the bed with a groan, my face throbbing against the ice pack. Shit. I’m going to look a mess at the party, but I’d rather die than not go. A point needs to be made, and I’m going to make it even if I do so looking like this.
At least Parker looks worse.
I’ve half-slipped into an uneasy sleep when voices pull me back to consciousness. I open my eyes and see Evan and Iakov making their way to me through the quiet room.
“You alright, man?” Evan asks, sitting on the edge of my bed. “You look rough as shit.”
“Pembroke looks worse,” Iakov points out, grabbing a chair and pulling it closer.
“I’m sure he does.” Evan nods. “But what’s the point? Now you’re both going to miss that stupid party.”
“I’m still going,” I grunt.
Evan’s eyes go wide. “You are?”
“What did Ambrose say?” Iakov asks, sitting heavily down. He plucks the cigarette sitting on his ear and rolls it between his fingers.
“He said our parents have to come for a meeting first thing next term. Big meeting, and then probably suspension for three days.”
“Oh shit,” Evan says. “Are your parents going to be pissed?”
“They forced me to get engaged to Anaïs so that our family wouldn’t get bought out by hers. I doubt my dad will be angry at me for beating up the guy who was trying to fuck her.”