Page 42 of Crown of Steel

“Don’t we all,” Arthur mutters quietly, privately.

“Well, you should let us know,” Maxime insists. I don’t know if he heard Arthur’s comment, but if he did, he blindly ignores him. “We’ll come and watch you play.”

“Sounds good.” Louis stalks over to where I’m sitting, and when he holds out the bottle I tilt my chin to meet his gaze.

“Want some more?”

“Sure.” My hands tremble a little as I watch him pour more of the glittery liquid. Part of me expects him to do something unexpected, something wicked, but he just mumbles, “Voilà, little s-bro,” and sends me a dopey grin. I relax a little, deciding that I am going to survive tonight.

“Absolutely. By the way, have you met that new teacher, Mister Montague?” Maxime asks, wiggling his brows. “I heard he’s one of the members of the committee for thePrix d’Honneur.”He looks smug when his eyes land on Arthur. “And in my class, he announced that things will be done a little differently this year.”

“Different how?” Louis asks, bottle in hand. “I mean, not that I care, but I know someone who does.”

Maxime shrugs. “He didn’t say. I think they don’t know yet. I mean, it’s not the sort of thing you can just change, with all the traditions and such.”

“He told us that from this year onward, all students need to do a qualification presentation first,” Dominique adds. “For the entire board.”

“What?” Arthur nearly jumps out of his seat. “What happened to qualification upon invitation?”

“Perhaps they also want to give other students the opportunity to come forward. Invitations are very scarce, and from what I’ve heard, are played out on a high level.”

“And you believe that crap?”Arthur snarls.

“I don’t know,” Dominique stammers. “It’s what I’ve heard.”

“That’s bullshit!” Arthur punches his fist onto the coffee table, and his onyx eyes flash in rage when they collide with Dominique’s, who visibly flinches.

“Arthur,” Gaël warns as his hands reach for Dominique’ssides. “I know that news doesn’t make you happy, but don’t take it out on Dominique. That shit scares him.”

Arthur blanches. “Damn.” He brushes an annoyed hand through his thick mane. “I’m sorry man, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Wow…” I mouth, but when I feel Arthur’s fury unexpectedly land on mine, I can’t hold myself back. Perhaps it’s the drink talking. “Is the big, bad Arthur Deveraux making an apology?”

Someone cat-calls, as more snickers follow. They are all watching the show.Us. Fisting my hands, I puff up my chest, readying myself for yet another conflict. But rather than descending his predictable wrath on me, he lets out a laugh instead. And coarsely kicks Maxime from his seat, before he plops down next to me.

“I guess I did. Tell me, how did that sound?”

“That sounded fucking awesome,” I admit. It’s not a lie.

“C’est vrai?” Is all he says, eyes gleaming with mischief. For a brief moment it feels like there’s nothing else around us, just him and I. “You better cherish this moment, because I’m not a fan of apologizing. Definitely something you won’t hear again.”

I snort. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Were you looking for an apology?” His gaze narrows, eyes searching.

“Maybe?” It comes out a little breathless, and my stomach tightens with something unfamiliar. Arthur’s tongue darts out and he slowly licks his plush bottom lip.

Around us the guys have moved on to another topic, goading Gaël about something he doesn’t agree with. Not like I care. Every single fiber of my nervous system is focusing on Arthur and his perfectly curved lips. On his dark stare, as it takes me in.

“Yeah?” He rasps. His voice has dropped, and he leans in a little. “What’s that for?”

I shrug. “For the trouble you’re gonna put me through?”

He chuckles at that, shaking his head. “Whatever you think that you’ll be going through tonight? You have no idea.” God, his voice. “An innocent lamb like you?” Another raspy chuckle, followed by a click of his tongue. “No. Idea.”

The others bark out in mutual laughter, Gaël huffing out some words in disdain.

Nerves ripple through my veins, together with some weird form of bravery. “But will my big brother protect me?”

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