Page 24 of Crown of Steel

He clacks his tongue, smiling. “You and I were made to compete, and we both know it.”

“I don’t want to fight you!”

“No, but you want to win the prize.”

“Whatprize?”

“Hmm.” He curls his lips into a sarcastic smile. “You’ll find out all about that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t—”

“Oh, but I do,” Arthur winks salaciously. “I’m a greedy bastard, little Régis. I want it all. And you know what?” He chuckles, the sound soft, but his touch in my hair is anything but. “I always get what I want.” He lets go of me to straighten his jacket, looking fucking perfectly calm.

“You’re such an ass,” I seethe. Then, without a single second of hesitation, I lunge for him, ignoring the way my heart thunders in my chest, and shove at his firm chest. Hard. He lets go with a groan, but I don’t turn around to see if he’s hurt. No, I practically dive for the stairs, needing to get the hell away from him. The step is lower than I think, and I yelp when I lose balance. My arms lunge in the air, readying for a deep dive, while my entire body follows in slow-motion. Shit. My feet don't even touch the first one, before Arthur plucks me like a strained cat and presses me against his warm, firm chest, while he keeps one hand clasped around the back of my neck.

“Careful now. You don’t want to get hurt.” His kiss on the crown of my head is featherlight and as lethal as his threat. He settles me gingerly on the highest step, where I stay while I wait for the tingles to disappear. Stupid, treacherous body.

I don’t know how long I’m there for, just standing and staring into nothing. But finally, the air around me clears and students come into view, passing me as they make their way downstairs and to the canteen.

Arthur is gone, I know he is. But then he isn’t really. Because I’ve gotten myself into some serious shit. He’s not going to let this go. He’s going to use this as the perfect distraction.

Focus. Just fucking focus. Arthur will only be here for one more year and then he has graduated. He’ll be gone, ruling his empire from god knows what throne.

But I can’t. All I feel is this clawing desperation in my chest cavity telling me to run. Run from all of it. I won’t let him touch me ever again. It’s not right and it shouldn’t affect me. Shouldn’t… fuck, I’m going to be in so much trouble.

The first bell rings, announcing that breakfast will finish in fifteen minutes.

So I have been here for a while.Time I could have spent on studying.

“Damn you, asshole,” I grumble, picking up my bag, my breath and dignity. I blink, catching sight of the large painting that hangs in the staircase. It looks like a portrait of hell, with a group of cloaked figures watching a golden crow that flies in the air. A fitting image for this nefarious place.

“Hey!” I bump into Maxime while having my last-minute breakfast. He gazes at my filthy clothes, taking his time to take it all in, while I shovel the last bite of a croissant in my mouth. Trying my best to ignore his unspokenquestions, I swallow my food away with a sip of coffee that practically burns my tongue. Motherfucker. “Bad start of the day?”

“You can say that.” I try another swig. Yeah, definitely too fucking hot. And by the looks of the other students, passing us as they make their way to the main hall for the official start of the school year, I know my time’s up. Placing the cup back on the table with a sigh, I pull my backpack over my shoulder, only to realize that Maxime’s still there. Waiting for me. With a shit eating grin on his face.

“Are you looking forward to kicking off your college career?”

“I definitely prefer being down here than up there in my dorm.” It comes out a little crankier than I meant, but Maxime still chuckles. “Touché.”

I bump his shoulder playfully. “Now, let’s just get this over with, shall we?”

We follow the other students into the noisy large reception hall where the official kick-off of the school year is about to take place.

“So what’s your major?”

“Business Administration.”

He nods. “Any extras?”

“Global Management and Data Analytics. And they also do a few classes on the history of Monterrey Castle that I thought would be fun.”

“So you didn’t try out for the football team then?” He shoots me a wink and I can’t help but grin. Really, this guy is impossible. We’re about the same height, around 172 cm, and equally slender built. We’re not really small, but most of the guys around us are still taller. Dominique is, and so is Jo.

Around us, the whispers and agitated chortles slowly dissipate, leaving us all standing here in the increasing silence. Waiting for the air to be filled. It doesn’t take long before a voicerings through a microphone, welcoming us to the new school year.

Maxime points toward the stairs, to where a middle-aged man stands with the microphone at his lips. “That’s Mister Dupont,” he whispers. “He’s the director of our school. You’ll probably only see him today.” A pristine suit shines in the faded light and grey hair is slicked to one side, neatly tucked behind the man’s ear, that frames his face together with the legs of a pair of silver glasses.

Dragging my eyes from the older man with the sturdy voice, I narrow my gaze at Maxime. “Only today?”

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