Page 38 of Crown of Steel

“What? I’m not following.”

Régis sighs, exasperated. “Perhaps you understand ancient language better,stepbro. I’m a commoner, not an elite. I’m that guy who works his ass off his entire life and commutes every fucking day to a job he doesn’t want to be at just so that his boss pays him at the end of the month.” He suddenly stands, making me inadvertently stumble backward. I catch my weight with my hand, but by the time I’m back on my two feet, Régis has already made it toward the exit. Fuck, isn’t he a courageous little fucker. He’s still wearing my raincoat, I notice, and it makes me feel a little stupid. He actually blew me while wearing that stupid garment. Not the usual attire my pets wear. But then Régis is not a pet, is he?

Yeah, he fucking is. But only mine.

Monchaton.

And fuck me, isn’t he a delight to play with?

By the door, he turns over his shoulder, and hisses, “You know what? You’re right. I will change my destiny, and there’s nothing in this goddamn world that you can do about it to keep me from my opportunities. I will graduate from Saint-Laurent, and if that means becoming a brother of your elite club, I fucking will. But just, stay away from me. You know that I can’t resist—” His cheeks blush right before he turns away, and mychest foolishly constricts at those clumsy, gullible words. “I need to focus on my studies and do what’s expected of me. I don’t want trouble with you or your brother or your cousin. So fine, I’ll play your game.” He walks out, then halts. “But don’t touch me again.”

“Because why—you can’t resist me?” I shout out after him, nostrils flaring with annoyance. He stills in the hall. Fuck yeah, I want to hear him admit that again. I don’t want him to walk out on me. “You were practically begging for it,chaton, parting your lips and waiting for me to stuff your mouth with cock.” Straightening my clothes, I descend the stairs, perhaps straightening my cool as well. Because him saying words like that makes me feel a little giddy. But he wouldn’t be my little stepbrother if he wasn’t a champion in crushing that vibe with three, tiny words.

Turning over his shoulder, he sends me a furious glower. “Connard.” And before I can do anything else, he runs off.

10

RÉGIS

Ican’t sleep. My limbs are tense, muscles sore and my heart thumps furiously in my chest, making me clench up. I’m cold, but after I’ve finally found the courage to grab the extra pair of blankets from under my bed, my body warms up too fast. With clammy fingers I peel down the thick, plush cover, only to feel myself cool down too quickly once more.

Huffing in annoyance, I roll onto my other side and stare outside the window, to where I put small pots with cuttings of the herbs from the herbal garden they keep outside in the forest. There’s also a vine of the white bird of paradise they have downstairs, I hope will flourish.

Outside my room, I hear Gaël barking out a laugh in reply to a muffled voice. It’s probably Louis, they seem to be particularly close. Tuning out their sound, I focus on the faint sliver of light instead that peeks inside my room. I pretend it’d be beckoning me outside and into the forest. Part of me wants to do just that. To climb out of this suffocating room and run for freedom. To the promise of iron bars waiting for me.

The garden staff hadn't questioned me when I finally found the courage to ask for a metal shelter to be brought into theforest. As if such a request is an everyday occurrence. The cage, at least, will bring the promise of better nights in solitude... like it used to. But, is it enough to protect me from the Alpha Fraternarii?

My stomach flutters treacherously at those thoughts. My mind is a traitor in its attempt to keep me off guard. It throws in flashes of Arthur and me in the woods, of him pinning me down against a tree, of him taking me to the Atrium…

Being alone with him is like being claimed by a lion. His approach calculated and dangerous, yet careful. His words a constant stab to my brain and heart as they make me reconsider many thoughts I grew up with. Thoughts that have always been shared by the community I lived in. Before. Not now. Now, everything is different and I’m barely hanging on. Still I crave his attention and I can’t understand why.

So I focus even more on my studies, which isn’t a hardship. I love those long days when I can zone out of my surroundings and purely focus on classes and piles of homework. Though I’m no fool. I see how the other students look at me. How they talk quietly behind my back but not straight at my face. How they won’t work with me unless there’s no other choice.

“They’ll all know, little Régis. Every single one of them.”

I figured that was more a figure of speech. Another method Arthur uses to frighten me. But as the weeks at college progress, I am still finding myself void of contact with most other people except from Dominique and his friends, Maxime and Jo. He’s kind, and brave, for stepping up against the Deverauxs and inviting me to social activities organized by college. Such as the first, monthly film night that we all attended together with Maxime and Jo. That was nice.

Still, whatever I do, nothing erases that restlessness. No busy days, no walk in the woods, no mind breaker over a chess game, can wipe out what seems to be shifting inside me like a gentle breeze. That night in the Atrium started a conversation like I’venever had before, started a physical hunger I’ve never felt before. Fuck. It isn’t normal to want to be ordered and cornered by your stepbrother. But I’d loved every single minute of it, and hated it at the same time. Hated that I gave him even more power. Hated that he could take it away from me so easily. Hated that he let me leave and hasn’t contacted me a single time since.

Hated that I want him to.

Alpha Fraternarii. A secret brotherhood founded during the French revolution. It sounds like the scenario of a bad horror, or a suspenseful thriller. I let out a huff at the thought. Some twisted version of a fraternity and their ominous initiations. It’s not…reality. Right?

Tossing under the blankets, I fight off the shivers. It’s a trick. My lids feel heavy, yet my thoughts prevent me from drifting off. I’m so tired, yet I can’t fall asleep.

“Fais dodo, Colas mon p'tit frère Fais dodo, t'auras du lolo…”

Maman.I miss you, miss who you used to be. When you sang this lullaby, your voice soft and sweet. Sometimes I wish that we skate back in time and remain frozen there.

I drink into the memory of the song, eyelashes fluttering, needing to be tipped over the edge and falling into the emptiness of the night. Let me fall…

A voice thunders through the air, loud and angry, rattling my insides. Suddenly, I am back in my old bedroom, crawling in agony, my knees grating the floor as I hurry for cover.

“Met-toi dedans!”

I don’t want to go inside the cage.

“Tu étais mauvais.”

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