Page 3 of A Taste of Torment
“There are three spots open,” someone whispers. “Who do you think they’ll pick?”
I try to ignore the whispering, but my curiosity is peaked and I follow the girl’s gaze to two framed lists on the wall between the staircases.
“Their inner circle?” I ask smoothly, or at least that’s what I’m going for. My fingers are trembling, so I doubt they’re fooled.
The blond girl flicks a brow. “You new, or what?”
The brunette next to her nods. “They’re announcing now.”
“Thanks,” I say and continue past. Leave it to me to arrive during an announcement by the very people I’m most afraid to face.
A red glow flutters up and down in front of the framed parchment on the left side, finishing a name in lovely swirling calligraphy.
Prince Jarron Blackthorn.
I swallow. Each prince gets to name three students to be part of their “inner circle.”
It’s a public declaration of the most popular and powerful students. You’re in or you’re out, and everyone knows where you stand. They want you to know.
My gaze rises, almost involuntarily, and I freeze when I find the pitch-black stare of Jarron Blackthorn pinned right on me. The cold bite of magic hits my spine. Every muscle tenses, frozen in place.
The room seems to hush—or maybe that’s just my mind shutting everything out but the predator before me.
He knows I’m here.
I try to remember the kind boy that once wore this skin. He’s older now, more man than boy, but I try to focus on that memory of our friendship and not the one of a stalking beast that carved its talons through my sister’s flesh.
It doesn’t work. My mind and body both remember the terror. My sister and I both survived that night, but it changed us.
I haven’t seen Jarron since.
And now his magic is holding me hostage. I clench my jaw, working hard not to show my panic.
I don’t know if it’s my sheer determination or if he lets me go, but I finally rip free from his spell and I immediately duck between the bodies surrounding me.
“I’d do anything to have them pick me,” a boy murmurs as I shove the rest of the way through the crowd.
“You’re a literal pick me.” The girl next to him laughs.
“For them? Hell yeah.”
My teeth chatter, panic building in my chest. The rest of these students desperately want attention from the otherworldly prince. I want anything but.
Yes, he’s powerful. Yes, he’s sexy as hell.
But that beautiful face hides the soul of a monster.
2
Fresh Meat
The distant chatterof the crowd fades into nothing as the door to administration clicks shut behind me. A set of middle-aged white women in cardigans stare in my direction.
After an awkward beat of silence, the woman in a pink cardigan scuttles forward and forces a smile while the woman behind her remains unmoving.
I pause, mind going blank for a moment. Is that… fear?
Do these middle-aged secretariesfearme? Confusion swirls in my mind, blocking out the panic I was battling.
