Page 4 of A Sky of Storms
He smiled slightly, but Ethan was a hound on the scent. He always knew when I was lying and saw right through me, deep down to my core. He was my best friend, the only companion I had ever been able to rely on. I loved him with everything I had.
“Swear you’ll come back,” he said suddenly, with a fierceness to his gaze as he grabbed my arm. “Swear you’ll win the Terrulian Trials to become queen.”
“Ethan, I—”
“Swear it!”
His face was so stern, so serious, that I shifted, straightening. Fear swam in his big green eyes—not for himself, but at the very real idea that I could die in the competition. The unpredictable trials that decided the next ruler. I burned the visual into my brain, telling myself I would remember this moment every time I wanted to give up or roll over. I could do this for Ethan and Hadley. I would do this to keep them safe and away from our parents’ clutches. The world needed it and frankly, so did I.
“I swear,” I said, lifting my chin and clasping his hand in my own. The power of that promise seemed to reverberate through my very soul, and I knew there was nothing I wouldn’t do to hold true to my word. My parents may have been some of the worst people in this world, but they had done one thing right, even if they wished Ethan was anything but himself.
All my life, I had been trained among the very best. A scholar, a gifted, a killer. My life had never been pretty or perfect like my parents wanted the world to believe. It was raw, gritty, and ugly. Most of all, it was real. If competing meant becoming the worst parts of myself, then so be it.
Iwouldone day be queen … I just had to become a monster first.
“Come on,” I said, nudging my brother. “We’d better get home. Victrus will blow a lid if we’re late to dinner.”
Ethan grinned and in a sudden move, he shoved me over the edge. I fell with a surprised scream, my wings immediately beating on instinct and levelling me out. I gaped at him as he hovered beside me. Then we burst out laughing.
“Race ya.” He grinned, shooting towards the hill overlooking the city where an enormous mansion sat. Our home. And our parents’ lair.
I pulled up on the landing balcony with Ethan by my side, both of us jogging along the marble floor and slipping into our seats at the dinner table without a word.
My father sat at the head of the table, Victoria on his right and my mother on his left. No one batted an eye, nor bothered to acknowledge us. Typical. Bastards.
“Are you ready for the Terrulian Trials?” Victrus asked as he sliced into a steak, his copper eyes directed at my sister.
Victoria smiled serenely at our father; her blond hair coiled perfectly into a tight bun. “I have been training all my life for this. I was born ready.”
It took everything I had not to roll my eyes or jam my fork into her hand. She was like a mechanical doll. In fact, machines had more personality than she did. I bet if he commanded, she’d roll over and bark like the whipped dog she was.
Victrus nodded satisfactorily, swirling his wine goblet in hand. “You will make the Auger family proud when you take the crown.” His eyes narrowed as he studied the slender curve of his knife. “Our enemies won’t dare to cross us when you win the competition.”
When she wins, I thought bitterly. Victoria was their shining star and prize pupil. Always had been. For Victrus and Eliana Auger, their eldest and first-born daughter was the crown jewel of this family and House Jupiter’s most promising candidate. The rest of us were merely placeholders in the event our enemies ever displaced or dispatched my dearly beloved sister. Ethan, Hadley, and me? We meantnothingto our parents.
I used to cry over that, but my heart was shrivelled and blackened now. Years of bitterness and abuse had seen to that. Oh, they still found ways under my skin, but I’d learned to replace those little hurts with anger. My parents were ruthless, cruel, and unforgiving, and they ruled with an iron fist. Victrus and Eliana loved each other fiercely, which, in any other family, might have been a wonderful gift, but in ours, it was a curse. For each other, for their empire, they would do anything. Kill, torture, maim, and, as was their business, smuggle their goods to the highest bidder. Everything we owned, everything we had, they built off the backs of innocents or acquired through unforgivable crimes.
House Jupiter was the worst of them all. And because of it, the best. It made me sick, and one day I’d bring them to their knees and make them pay.
“When I win,” Victoria added smugly, “I will dispose of them before they get the chance.”
I scoffed, hiding my outburst behind my glass as I sipped my wine. Victrus’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.
Victoria glared at me, but her lips curved into a coy smile before turning back to Victrus. “It’s a shame they will pit me against Fallon in the finals,” she continued, glancing meaningfully my way. Uh-huh. A crying shame. The bitchy once-over she gave me really screamed sorrow. If she had it her way, she’d be first in line to take me out. Well, two can play that game.
“House Jupiter weeds out the weak,” Mother said in her lilting tone. “Only the strong survive.”
My lip curled. “When I beat Victoria’s ass into the ground, we’ll know how true that is,” I said sweetly, looking all three of them hard in the eyes. “And when I become queen, you will bend the knee as my loyal subjects.”
Ethan kicked me under the table, warning me to shut up. He shook his head ever so subtly as I frowned at him, but I understood. Victrus did not appreciate being baited, and Eliana, however lovely she pretended to be, was no better.
My father’s hand clenched around his knife and, for a second, I thought it might be plunged into my chest. Instead, a sharp, piercing pain burrowed into my mind, lashing at my mental barriers. I cried out, doubling in my chair as my father pushed against my mind, inflicting pain for what I said, or simply because he could. A single tear trickled down my cheek as I fought him off, but this was an agony I could not defend against, no matter how hard I tried. Ethan’s hands closed into fists, but I managed to shake my head just once, lest my father’s wrath move to him instead. When I thought my brain might shatter or melt into a puddle of goo, my mother rested a hand above Victrus’s until his grip relaxed—both on his dinner knife and my mind—and his posture eased.
This was the twisted game he liked to play to keep me in my place. It also served as a subtle reminder that he was more powerful than me and that my telekinesis abilities, however strong, were no match. Not many gifted held the kind of magic my father had. Someday, I would rip it from him, one way or another.
My mother cleared her throat, returning to her meal and cutting it up ever graceful and dainty.
“We wish both our children luck in the trials, of course,” she said, as if I’d simply imagined my father’s attack. I straightened, still panting from the lingering pain, but I caught the way she directed her gaze at her prized pony. “The trial is brutal, girls. It will take all your cunning to survive. You will be pitted against each other time and again, forced to make allies and to meet your greatest fears. When the time comes, you must be ruthless. Trust no one and offer no mercy.”
