Page 123 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)

“He uses people,” Ian warns. “Whatever you think you feel… it’s a lie. A manipulation.”

I cross my arms over my chest. Maybe it’ll protect my heart from his words. “Why are you telling me this?”

His hand coasts over my jaw, his fingers gripping my chin and moving my face to the side. It’s painful, but I don’t make a peep.

His eyes latch on to the bite mark on my neck. It’s mostly faded—enough that I only put a light layer of concealer on it—but the makeup must’ve worn off.

“We were friends,” he says. “And then high school starts, and he becomes a lacrosse god. Once I filled my use, I was kicked to the curb.”

“You showed him,” I respond. “You stole his girlfriend. Had her cheat on him—”

“Fat lot of fucking good that did.”

“Your problem isn’t with me.” My voice is low. The fear is strangling me the closer he gets.

Heat pours off his body. He’s too close.

He laughs. He releases my chin, and I turn my face to the side. I don’t want to see whatever madness is on his face. His hand wraps around my throat.

“My problem is most certainly with you, Sheep.” He squeezes.

I keep my hands at my sides, but I meet his eyes. If his goal is to make me beg, he has another thing coming.

“You’re the key to getting back at Caleb. I think he may even love you.”

It’s hard to breathe. Swallow. Panic claws at me.

I can’t answer him. I won’t.

Caleb Asher does not love me.

“It’s a game to him,” I wheeze.

Ian frowns.

If he wasn’t a maniac, he might even be handsome. He sure got Amelie’s attention.

“Please,” I mumble, finally bringing my hands up to his wrist.

He grunts, releasing me, and I slide to the ground.

This seems familiar.

Déjà vu.

Ian squats next to me, grabbing my arm. He yanks it toward him, shoving my sleeve up. “Something to remember me by.”

He pulls out a permanent marker, biting the cap off, and writes a word across my forearm.

I watch in horror as he puts his teeth to my skin. He bites hard. The pain travels up my arm like an electric shock. It’s nothing like what Caleb has done to me. This is fear and disgust wrapped in one. I’m dirty. The need to step out of my own skin is almost overwhelming.

Tears flood my eyes. There’s an instant bruise forming just above my wrist bone.

It’s more violating than I would’ve thought. Than I could’ve guessed.

“Who do you hate worse?” I ask him. I can’t look at my arm, which has a pulse of its own. “Me or Caleb?”

Ian sighs. “I don’t like you,” he says. “But I hate Caleb Asher. And this… you’re the easier target. The button to push to make Caleb feel something other than self-righteous.” He lifts one shoulder. “Pity he wasn’t there to protect you this time.”