Page 42 of Royal Havoc

Shaking his head. “This is your lesson on greed. Brock’s already been taken back to his room, and your surprise is ruined. All of this is your fault. No pouting. Learn from your mistakes, so you’ll be smarter next time,” he lectures, making the rage bubble in my chest, tears streaming like lava down my pale cheeks.

My eyes narrow on him when he stands, moving to the door, and slides open the slot in the middle. “Let me out,” he calls.

twenty-two

Loaded Cotton

Onyx: 2024

After countless jump scares waking me from tiny catnaps, I gave up and hauled my ass to the shower. As I dry off, I study the dark rings circling my eyes.

Realizing I have time to kill since it’s barely 5 a.m., I decided to put some effort into my appearance today. Actually, taking the time to curl my hair once I’ve blow-dried it and pushing myself to follow through with my full makeup routine, both things I haven’t done for school in years.

Mornings are for happy assholes. Not bitchy night owls.

The early morning sun glistens on the dirty water as I cross the bridge, headed to get my caffeine fix. The thought of sleep, adistant reminder of a luxury I’ve not had in years. That’s gotten worse recently since waking up in the hospital.

By the time I turned thirteen, the panic attacks hit with a vengeance. Most days, I remember being a walking wreck, hiding behind an award-winning smile.

Needless to say, I’ve discovered the darkness doesn’t care what I do.

Surviving turned into catnaps and stolen moments to rest my eyes, which made functioning a constant chore that Mom loved to call me out on.“A teenager shouldn’t have dark circles under their eyes.”Constantly reminding me I’d be easier to be around if I was nicer.

Whatever, it’s hard to be nice when someone’s picking you apart.

Over time, I started focusing my energy on other things. I learned how to mask the exhaustion, started working on growing my popularity as a sun-shiny bitch, and ended up breaking every rule shoved at me.

Speaking of rules… I wonder how mad Vexen will be when he figures out I’m not home, waiting on my doorstep like the perfect puppet he tried to order me to be.

What does the idiot expect? He’s worked me into a frenzy twice and left way before any hint of an ending in sight. So, no, I’m not waiting around for him to give me a ride to school.

Fuck, is he going to want to court me next?

The annoying cluster of tiny bells tinkle, alerting the place to my arrival. The rich scent of butterscotch starts to calm my nerves as I step in line, more than ready to get my morning wake up. I barely notice the man standing beside a woman in front of me until he turns, and I feel him watching me. When I look up, his eyes dartupto meet mine.

I glance down, wondering what he was looking at, but only find empty space between us. Confused, I raise my head and ammet by the woman’s narrowed eyes as she tugs the man, forcing him to turn around. She raises an eyebrow, shaking her head, before turning away full of disgust.

Lowering my head, about to chalk up her rudeness to…my thighs.The bitch is jealous because he was checking out my legs. How is me wearing a skirt any of their business? Sure, it’s a little short. But I’ve got a point to prove to a controlling narcissist.

I watch as the man starts to twist around again, but the woman catches him, smacking his shoulder before dragging him to the counter beside her. The whole scene has me stifling a laugh as they order.

Until recently, I’ve never been a morning person. Mom loved to lecture me about the importance of being on time. Sometimes, she’d rant until I literally wanted to rip my skin off.“Tardiness shows weakness, Onyx”was her motto. Where mine was more,“It’s not that serious, Opal.”In case it isn’t blatantly obvious, we clashed often.

“Someone’s gonna lose their eyeballs when they see you,” Amy gasps approvingly, wiggling her brows and flashing me a crooked smile.

Her vote of confidence is appreciated and unwanted at the same time. I’m not advertising for free attention. There’s only one person Iwantto notice me because revenge comes in all shapes and sizes. Or levels of nudity.

Whatever, it’s just some skin. Stop staring at me!

If my brain wasn’t so clouded from fatigue, I wouldn’t have miscalculated the attention my outfit choice would draw from not only the narcissist but randos. Worst-case scenario, I can handle a little judgment. It’s not like it’ll be the first time or the last.

Amy’s finger finds its way to one of her ponytails, twisting it as she says, “Rough night? Wanna talk about it?” Leaning over to rest her cheek on her free hand.

Awww, I forgot my brush. Guess we won’t be braiding each other's hair and sharing our deepest secrets. The Fuck?!

“Large black river, two pumps butterscotch, milk, and three shots espresso. That’s what I wanna talk about,” I answer shortly, locating donor Pop’s card.

She straightens slowly, eyes a little wide with shock. “Right,” she mumbles, leaving me in peace.

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