Page 99 of Villain

“What’s so funny?” Beck called suddenly, drawing Lake’s attention up to the bleachers that swirled around the octagonal field. He was standing on the nearest level, elbows propped on the metal bar.

Though there was no blood relation between them, the two had often been told they were similar in visuals. Beck was around the same height with the same sharp jawline, though his green eyes were a shade deeper and his hair wasn’t nearly as platinum as it was golden—sort of like Nix’s but way less appealing.

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time, cousin,” Beck continued when Lake didn’t greet him. He glanced over his shoulder toward the field. “How was practice?”

“I dominated as per usual,” Lake replied, a bit on edge. Like with Smith, he wasn’t sure how to approach Beck. The two of them had never had any problems in the past, and West and he were actually really close, but… “Are you here because you’ve heard something about your father’s antics?”

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, “no. My father doesn’t treat me as a confidant.”

Lake was well aware. That was one of the reasons why he’d never felt any true animosity toward Beck. He knew what it was like to have family he couldn’t stand.

It was no great loss to him that the emperor had passed.

“There’s a meeting tonight,” Beck said. “I was just informed and figured you’d yet to check your messages.”

Lake tilted his head. “You came all the way to the stadium for that?”

“No,” he chuckled, “I had to see your coach already about another student.”

“It’s only two weeks into school. Don’t tell me someone is already at risk of flunking your class?”

“I wish I could.” He straightened, brow dipping into a deep furrow. Beck was like that. He cared about his students. When he’d announced during a rare family get-together with the Emperor and Royal Consort a few years ago that he planned on becoming a professor, his father blew a gasket. He’d wanted Beck to follow in his footsteps, but his son had adamantly refused.

Though he’d never taken one of his classes, Lake had only heard good things from others who had. His cousin was apparently great at his job, passionate and caring toward his pupils. He most likely would have made a good leader if only he’d been higher up the ladder and had actual blood relations with the Emperor.

“When’s your first official match?” Beck asked. “I’d like to come and show my support.”

“Your support, while appreciated, would be better placed elsewhere.”

Beck started walking toward the stairs alongside Lake when he moved toward the opening of the stadium that was attached to the stables. They both went silent until he’d reached them and came down, falling into step at Lake’s side.

“You know that’s already done,” Beck said. “Of course I support you, cousin.”

“Even though your father is openly against it?”

“My father,” disdain practically oozed from his lips, “wants the crown for himself, but he doesn’t deserve it.”

“And I do?”

“Much more so than he does,” Beck smiled at him. “The meeting tonight is with the High Council. They’ll discuss moving forward now that the mourning period is coming to an end. My father will no doubt try to argue you’re incompetent, so it’s best if you bring your friends along with you for the added verbal support.”

The High Council, like the Order, appreciated a strong stance, and the fact that the Demons were best friends would go a long way in showing them Lake was prepared to take on such an important position. With the backing of two other members who would one day fill leading roles on the planet, he was the better choice.

And when considering he was the only remaining blood relative in the Imperial family?

Lake was the only choice.

“We’ll be there,” he replied as the two of them passed through the stables. He tugged off his riding gloves and slipped them into the back pockets of his tight black pants, already lost in thought.

If the meeting was scheduled this last minute, it must mean someone had something up their sleeves. As long as it wasn’t his uncle, he’d be fine, but if it was…There was lots to plan for. Lake needed to go into this on the defensive, which meant rounding up the boys now so they could discuss all of the possibilities.

Sounds of penned waifs, their hooves clapping against the hard ground, their grunts and hisses, filled the stables, but as they passed by one of the stalls, Lake thought he caught a whimper.

He paused.

“What’s the matter?” Beck asked, stopping at his side.

“Did you hear that?”

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