Page 4 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)

I sit perfectly still. “Yes, ma’am.”

She flashes me a smile. “Lovely. Okay, here’s your schedule. I had to put you in a lower math class, but perhaps you can find a tutor.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

The bell rings, and I jump.

“End of homeroom. You’re going to be late.”

My schedule is a mess of numbers and words. My heart beats faster. “I don’t know where to go.”

She sighs. “Right. Follow me.”

We walk out of her office, and her whole body perks up when her eyes land on a boy filling out a form. And then I take a good look at him, and something in my chest loosens.

A familiar face.

His gaze snaps to mine, and his name comes out of my memories.

“Caleb Asher,” the guidance counselor says. “This is Margo—”

“Wolfe,” he supplies, grinning. “We’ve met.”

We’ve met. That’s a poor way to cover our history.

His gaze travels up and down my body, and his lips curl into a smile. There’s something off about it. “I’ll take her to class for you, Ms. Ames.”

“Thank you, Caleb.”

And then it’s just Caleb and me in the office, the clock ticking loudly on the wall.

“Well?” I ask.

He turns and stalks out the door, taking the pink pass with him. I hurry to follow, practically jogging after his quick steps. When we’re out of sight of the office, he pivots toward me. His sudden closeness has me taking a step back, and I stare up into his eyes. My shoulder blades hit the lockers.

“Why did you come back, Margo?”

I narrow my eyes. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

He laughs, leaning down. He doesn’t touch me, but suddenly I’m ice-cold. His expression could stop my heart if he wanted. “You don’t stand a chance.”

I shake my head, moving to edge around him. His hands slam into the lockers on either side of me, caging me in.

“Margo Wolfe,” he whispers. “Haven’t you heard? I’m the king now.”

He walks away, and I stay frozen against the lockers for a minute. That isn’t the boy I knew. No, he’s been replaced by a monster. And I’m pretty sure he just smelled blood in the water.

2

I open the door. The teacher pauses, glaring at me.

“Sorry.” I pass her the note from the guidance counselor. I found it on the floor after Caleb disappeared.

The teacher, Mrs. Stonewater, scans the note and exhales. “We have a new student. Margo Wolfe.”

There are a few gasps, and the teacher raises her eyes from the note to glare around the room. They lapse back into silence.

“Take a seat,” she says to me.