Page 5 of Crown of Steel

Amadou’s gaze lingers on mine for a second longer, as if silently asking me what I want.

WhatdoI want? I want to go home. Home to the 30, to our cramped two-bedroom flat, to my small bedroom with that single bed and the wrinkled sheets. Home to shattered glass and slurred shouts. Because that is where I belong. It’s what I know. Rather the devil you know that the one you don’t.

I push away that sudden feeling of homesickness, shoving it down to where it belongs, hidden deep inside my heart.

Then I put the bottle onto my lips and take a careful swig. I’m not used to alcohol, but they don’t have to know. It’s acidic, bubbly, and horrible.

“Yeah,” Louis rasps, his eyes still glittering with mischief, “little s-brother likes the cheap stuff.”

“Tss,” Arthur mocks from the other side of me, his husky tone laced with amusement. His body heat seeps into my core, warming the cool stiffness it finds there.

Louis is right, but I won’t give them that. I only know the cheap stuff—I could never buy anything unless it’s on sale and even then, I’d bargain for an even lower price. Grade A cheapskate.

I’m so lost in my own thoughts that the soft brush on my thigh has my limbs jerking before they pull taut as a string. It’s swift, but warm, private and very, very out of place.

“You know what I think, bro?” Louis chuckles breathily from my other side. “Cheap or not, I think our little stepbrother here knows all about throwing a party. Ain’t that right?” He shuffles next to me, and I can feel his dark stare burning into my side. I have no clue how to party, and I’m not entirely sure what he’s getting at. But I can pretend. After all, it’s what I’ve done since forever—a mask glued to my face. It’s fuckingexhausting but it’s better than showing everyone my pathetic self.

I let my mask slip the first time I met the twins. I won’t make that mistake again.

While Louis and Arthur look alike from the outside, their energy is completely different. It’s too early to define the difference, but it definitely has to do with the wicked flare in Arthur’s onyx eyes. There’s something primal there that I have never seen in another person, even though it’s neatly braided around his cool, adept attitude.

And though I don’t know the twins well yet, I can sense danger from a distance. Arthur is the Deverauxs golden boy, their empire’s future.

I own this worldis written all over his face; his behaviour cocky and pretentious.

And yet…

The look Arthur had fired my way that very first time we met had stopped my heart. When I took in those wide, horizontal eyes, framed by thick lashes; that long, straight nose trailing down to his lush, full lips. Raven strands that were slickly smoothed back, revealing his oval face, the forehead prominently visible. . . I must have gaped at him like a fool. Right from that very first moment, hairline cracks began to form along my steel mask.

Even now, with both twins sitting next to me, I prefer focusing on Louis. Despite his rascality he still feels safer than Arthur.

Louis taps my shoulder. “You know how to party, right, Régis?” he repeats.

“S-sure,” I stammer, my anger now officially replaced by something else. Something that confuses the hell out of me. Because between the soft, yet persistent brush of Arthur's fingers against my thigh and Louis egging me on, I'm not sure which one of these twins I should be more afraid of. Louis letsout a cackle, the sound making my lips tremble as if they’re not sure if they want to shape to a cry or a sob.

“Oh, you’re a funny one,” he muses.

“I mean, I can party,” I try a little firmer, only for him to tilt his head back as he lets out another bark.

“Yeah?” He challenges when he finally has his gaze back onto me. He juts his chin toward the bottle I’m still holding. “Go on then, show us how. You’re part of the family now, and your big brothers sure love a good party.”

The car leaves castle territory and turns onto the wooden path through the forest. In the front, Didier and Amadou are softly speaking to each other. And in the back…shit, this is happening. I’m stuck here, with my very new, very devious stepbrothers.

“O-okay.” I take another swig. Louis lets out an appreciative whistle. See? I can be cool.

The idea of being cool evaporates with a whoosh like Genie in Aladdin’s bottle. Arthur’s fingertips touch my thigh again, sending my heart into a frenzied race.

My breath catches. People don’t…people don’t touch me that way.

“I think you might be right,” Arthur mumbles. Those words, spoken in that sooty tone, shoos my way, landing somewhere between my temple and my ear, making me shiver with a forbidden rush of turmoil.

I bite my lip as my nerves zero in on those light brushes of his finger. I shouldn’t want this. Idon’t—

A puff of air escapes my mouth. I’m so fucking confused. It’s like my body is starving for—for what? Arthur’s touch? Arousal ignites in the pit of my stomach, blood pumping faster, my body lapping up those heated flicks of his digits. The realization is an electric shock sizzling through my body.

I chug down another shuddering swig of the drink. Theburn sets my throat on fire, its reminder cooling down my body’s response to Arthur.

“Drink, boy, show me you’re a man after all.”

---