Page 79 of Ruthless Chaos
I wouldn’t have to worry about him touching Allie, and I would easily retain my position as Head Kingmaker. It’s a perfect plan.
Keller realizes that he’s dying, that I’m not going to let him breathe again.
He flails his hands frantically, clawing at the fabric of my mantle. I sneer at him, watching as he gasps for air, his green eyes as big as saucers.
Green eyes. The same color as my mother’s.
My mother.
His father’s sister.
She wouldn’t want me to kill her nephew.
I ease up just as he’s about to pass out.
He’s gasping for more air, but I don’t give him any more release. Instead, I use this moment while I’m holding his life in my hands to remind him of a very important fact.
“Our issues can only be settled in blood,” I say, my voice low. “It was written before we were born. It happened the moment my mother married into a rival family.” He’s staring at me intently, and I bare my teeth. “You can choose if you want to cross my path again, but I can promise you that I am not my father. I don’t care about the right way to settle this. I will settle this my way.”
“You have your father’s hubris,” he rasps. “Don’t think you’re untouchable.”
It’s clear that Liam is intent on forcing my hand.
We both know his death would start a war between our families.
The Empire wouldn’t survive it. Yet, I find that I don’t care about that as much as I used to—and I especially won’t when I become a member of the Kingmaker Society.
I will bide my time.
I spit in Liam’s face. It’s the most passive way I can show my disgust.
Then I leave him writhing and gasping for air on the pavement like a worm.
I’m tired of the talking, the threats. The next time he crosses the line with me, I’m going to rearrange his face. He will learn not to fuck with me.
It’s up to him to decide if it’s a lesson he will have to learn with his life.
TWENTY-ONE
ALLIE
The days followingthe Council Nomination Ceremony pass by in a blur.
Thankfully though, things have been quiet—no new Hemlock admittance trials, and I haven’t run into Alexander. I’ve just been going to class, doing my best to always look ‘presentable’, and spending time with Tara and Nya in my free time.
On the surface, things look normal.
Only, the conversation I overheard has been haunting my dreams.
At nights,I’mthe girl they hang from the eaves and it’smyblood they use for their ritual.
The hole in my mind is filled with quicksand now. I’m slowly suffocating in it, so I’ve been handling my stress the only way I know how.
My thighs are nearly raw from all the cuts now.
It’s not sustainable, and it doesn’t help for as long as it should. I cut deeper to get the same euphoric feeling these days.
But it’s the only way I know how to manage this…stifling life.
