Page 74 of Wicked Dreams (Fallen Royals 1)
Where did the sweet boy I knew as a child go?
Keep asking yourself that, Margo. I have a feeling he’d no sooner answer that question than solve the rest of my puzzle. As much as I slide the pieces around, they just… don’t fit together.
This Caleb thrives on darkness. Maybe I didn’t realize it before, but I can see it like a rising tide inside him. He’s ready to shatter Amelie’s world. Thrilled for it.
“Do I have a problem?” she repeats. “Yes, I have a fucking problem.”
“You’re an attention-seeking slut.” He shrugs as her face turns red. “I should’ve realized you were only after my reputation.”
“How dare you? We’re dating, and you show up with her?”
“Gee, Amelie, maybe you should break up with me.” He steps forward, towing me with him.
Her gaze cuts to mine, but all I can do is stare at her. Helpless is my middle name.
“I’m not sure why you care so much. It isn’t like you haven’t been sleeping around with Ian Fletcher.” He releases me.
I stumble away from him. He’s focused on Amelie.
When he’s mad at me, he gets physical. His hands on my skin. His tongue in my mouth. Every inch of him was built to punish me. And for that reason, I can’t bear the idea of him touching her—even if it’s out of anger.
It takes a moment for his words to sink in. She’s been sleeping around on him.
I cover my mouth, holding back my laugh. Oh, the fucking irony.
Excluding the fact that Ian Fletcher is the worst human being in Rose Hill, I’m fairly certain that Caleb doesn’t give a fuck about who Amelie’s been sleeping with. Hell, besides the annoyance flashing across his face, she could drop dead at his feet and he wouldn’t even stoop down to check her pulse.
She scowls at him, fear fluttering across her features.
“Who told you that?” she snaps.
He laughs. There’s a circle around us, people eager to see what will happen with the king and queen of Emery-Rose.
Ex-queen.
I back away until I hit someone.
Eli murmurs in my ear, “He’ll hunt you down if you aren’t in his line of sight when he’s done.”
I grimace.
Riley grabs my other arm. “You came with Caleb? I thought you said you didn’t want…”
“You’re ridiculous,” Caleb proclaims. “And I’m sick of you, Amelie. We’re done.”
She glares at him, her mouth gaping open and shut like a fish desperate for oxygen.
He turns and searches for me. Eli releases me quickly, giving me a light shove between my shoulder blades. I stumble forward, stopping before Caleb, and tilt my head to the side.
“That’s one way to do things,” I say.
There’s a gleam in his eye that wasn’t there before. My stomach flips.
“Just the beginning.” He puts his arm back around my shoulder, hugging me into his side, and we walk toward the field. “One more thing.”
The football players have returned to the field.
Caleb and I stop at the edge—closer than they let any student, really—and he brings his fingers to his lips. His whistle is sudden and sharp, catching the attention of our team and half of Lion’s Head. Two players break away and jog toward us, tearing their helmets off.