Page 31 of Crown of Steel

Someone’s following me.

Someone who’s slowly creeping up behind me.

I try to expand my chest, try to breathe deeper through my nose, but fuck… I can’t. I’m scared. Which is completely ridiculous, since I’m close to Monterrey Castle, to my dorm … but I went looking for something to keep me feeling safe, something to help me through those dreamless nights. Now I’m feeling all perilous, and the darkening sky isn’t helping. Neither is the threat to another heavy rainfall.

Creak.

“Hello?” I squeak as I fist my hands. I don’t dare turn over my shoulder, too afraid to stumble and fall. Oh god, I don’t want to fall. “Who’s out there?”

Is this about the invitation? I mean to ask, but I’m running out of breath quickly, and my eyes are still fighting to adjust against the rapidly obscuring blanket draping over the trees.

A low chuckle, far too close, rushes through the wind. It brings instant goosebumps to my neck and forearms. Flutters ofchainsaws and knives molest my mind in a fraction of a second, before I can feel a whoosh of air behind my nape and ears. I swear it ruffles my hair, like some invisible hand that brushes through my curls, pulling me in by my hair, toying with me, teasing me, showing me who’s…

The wind gets torn out of me when I stumble over the uneven ground and crash to the ground. Roots from the large oak tree unflatten the surface when I blindly search around me, fingers clawing as I try to get up and position myself. My knees feel wobbly and I’m panting heavily, the echo of that raspy chortle lingering in the air.

“It’s all in your head,” I soothe myself when my flat palm reaches the tree trunk. But when I reach inside my pocket to grab my phone, the first softened pitter patters descend through the trees. It’s making everything achingly calm, like some threat preparing its arrival.

There’s another snapping sound, this time way too close. Dropping my phone back in my pocket, I make a blind run for it, speed fueled by horror. I try to stay on the sand path, that’s now rapidly turning into a muddy path, the clear sounds of footsteps behind me. When I throw my gaze over my shoulder, I make out the clear silhouette of another person giving chase, and it ignites my agony into something hot and sticky.

Disoriented and afraid, my breathing is way too high, making me splutter and pant as I keep on racing. I’m not going to make it. I don’t even know where I’m heading for anymore.

The rainfall is picking up, making my wet jacket glue against my freezing skin. A growl cuts through the air behind me, low and raspy. Then, a hand grabs me by my hair, making my head whack back. An instant sting flares through my skull and I wince in pain. Before I know what’s happening, I’m being spun around, my back yanked flush against the closest tree trunk. When I hit the tree, the sudden dull ache spreads all the way from my already stinging scalp down to my spine, through theback of my legs to my heels. A strong hand curls around my neck. My teeth clammer and my eyes bulge, hands flying up for protection. Those fingers…they are too tight around me, squeezing off my breath. When the dark shape bends his head, I am caught in the onyx stare of my big stepbrother.

“Arthur? What the hell are you doing here?” I pant through my ragged breath. My nails dig into the hand he uses to squeeze my airways, scraping until he lets out an annoyed hiss. “Let go of me.”

“Well, well,” he rumbles, “Look who I had to save from the woods. If it isn’t Little Red Riding Hood.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Spending more time in the forest than he does in his own bedroom. Even when it’s raining outside. What the hell were you doing here anyway?” He squeezes my neck tighter as if that annoys him, and my nails claw deeper around his skin.

“That’s none of your fucking business,” I hiss. We’re both panting now. From the race, or from the building pressure that snakes itself around us. I’m not sure.

“Oh, you bet it is my business. I’m here to guide you. If our parents find out that you got lost in the woods at night on my watch, they’ll come for my ass.”

“I don’t care.”

Arthur lets out a dark chuckle, eyes flaring with something fierce. “But I do. I care a lot more about you than you think.” His fingers crawl around my neck, swiftly replacing that earlier, sluggish feeling of being smothered, with something else. Something that has my stomach tighten and my eyes widen. Because they are so soft. His fingertips, dragging over the tender flesh of my throat, the only exposed skin I have since I’m still wearing my school uniform. His grip is possessive, and it makes me shiver with something I don’t even want to label.

“You’re delusional,” I seethe, though right now, I’m not sure to whom that is more applicable, my own thought being farfrom appropriate. They have taken me back to that disgraceful morning not so long ago, where Arthur had me dangling above the stairs with his hand in my boxers. God, he made me feel so good.

Fury coils through my blood. Lifting a foot, I try to kick him in his crotch, but he dodges me with a last-second shift of his hips. A grin lifts his lips. I should look away. Shouldn’t think about the way he’s using his attractive looks as a weapon in these games of destruction I’ve somehow called upon myself. But he’s so handsome. So cruelly beautiful. I could stare at him all day.

“And you, little Régis, are in my way.” He has dipped his head, his warm breath caressing my cheeks. I snort as best as I can, but his crawling fingers have now moved down to the collar of my jacket, and it’s creating a crazy sizzle that goes all the way down to my cock. No no no.

“I don’t want you following me.”

“What were you doing here?” He asks again. He has lowered his chin and tilts my head to the side with his agile hand, giving himself access to my exposed neck. “You were hiding, right?” He insists when I don’t reply, his voice nothing more than a low rasp.

“No.”

“Always hiding. I can’t help but wonder why.” His tongue darts out and connects with the tender skin of my neck. “Hm,” he rumbles against my ear when his tongue lifts all the way from my collarbone to my ear. “It doesn’t matter anyway. ”

And then his other hand is on my chest, on my furiously beating heart as it pounds against my ribcage, unable to handle the exertion from running, from being chased, from being caught…

“I’ve found you.” He lowers his hand to pop the buttons of my wet school jacket and leisurely slides down to my stomach. I tremble, chilly air gripping my senses, just like something elsedoes. Something unwanted, like arousal to his touch. Thick, burning need for Arthur’s fingers to continue brushing over my chest, my stomach, my cock… I bite my lip, drawing blood as I do so.

Arthur’s fingertips sneak in between the distance of my shirt, and I jerk when they connect to my naked skin. With one hand still steadily wrapped around my neck, he uses his thumb to tilt my chin and look up at him. From up close, I see him clearly. Those eyes, pupil-dilated and dark with hunger, as he stares me down. Then he swipes the blood from my bottom lip and suckles it between his own. I swallow a groan, cock bucking in my pants, while my mind scrambles for words.

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