Deviant King: A Dark New Adult Romance (Royal Elite Book 1)

They say it doesn’t take long for your life to be flipped upside down.

A moment.

A second.

And it’s all over.

I should’ve known. If I had, I would’ve done things differently.

Maybe I would’ve walked the other way.

Maybe my tale wouldn’t have ended the way it did.

But the thing about ‘maybes’? They’re useless.

I wave at my aunt as I stand on the old, Victorian-era pavement. She waves back from the window of her silver Audi with a blinding smile.

Aunt Blair’s red hair never lost its fiery, natural colour, hanging in perfect waves to her shoulders. She has high cheekbones and a tall, slender, model-like figure that makes my awkward, sixteen-year-old body look like a potato in comparison.

I strive to be her when I grow up. Not only in the looks department — although I’ll never pull off the red hair, but also the hard work and the personality. She’s a partner with her husband in their overflowing business. Their small company, Quinn Engineering, grows tenfold larger each day, and I couldn’t be more proud of them.

“Show them what you got, Elsie!” She honks.

“Aunt.” My face flames as I search sideways, spying for anyone who might have heard. “Elsa. Just Elsa at school.”

“But I like my Elsie.” She pouts in an anime-cute way. Her phone rings in a standard, professional melody. Her eyebrows furrow as she checks the call before silencing it. “You’ll be okay, hon?”

I nod. “You didn’t have to drive me.”

“I wouldn’t miss my Elsie’s first day in this huge effing place for the world.” She motions around. “Freaking Royal Elite School! Can you believe it?”

“I wouldn’t have been here without you and Uncle.”

“Aw stop it. We might have pulled a few strings, but if you didn’t have the grades, you wouldn’t be here.”

And money. She forgets to mention that it costs a fortune and several organs sold on the black market to get me here amongst the elite.

Still, the weight that’s been perching on my chest loosens a little at her contagious enthusiasm. “Teamwork.”

“Teamwork!” She opens her car door and whooshes outside to clasp me in a mama bear hug.

I try to ignore the level of weird my future schoolmates must think of me and wrap my arms around Aunt. The smell of cocoa lotion and Nina Ricci’s perfume envelops me in a safe cocoon.

When she pulls back, her cobalt blue eyes shine with unshed tears.

“Aunt…?”

“I’m just so proud of you, hon. Look at you all grown up and so much like…” She trails off and wipes under her eye with the side of her forefinger.

She doesn’t have to say it for me to catch the meaning.

I look so much like my mum. While Aunt took after my ginger-haired grandfather, Mum took after my blonde grandmother.

Or that’s what I’m told.

The ache that never died resurfaces like a demon from the dark, murky water.

Time heals everything is a big fat lie.

Eight years later, I still feel the loss to my bones.

It still aches.

It still hurts.

It still brings frightening nightmares.

“Gah, I’m being so sappy on my baby’s first day at school.” Aunt Blair gives me another quick hug. “Don’t forget your meds and no junk food. Go get them, hon.”

I wait until she gets into her car and shouts something at a slacking driver in front of her. Aunt has no filter when it comes to her precious time. That’s why I feel guilty when she insisted on driving me.

Once her car speeds into the distance, I resist the urge to call and tell her to come back.

Now, I’m truly on my own.

No matter how old I am, the feeling of being stranded isn’t something anyone forgets.

I stare at the massive building in front of me.

The old architecture springs an eerie, imposing feeling. Ten tall towers adorn the perimeters of the school’s main building. Three-storey high, the school sits on a large piece of land surrounded by an enormous garden that’s better suited for a palace instead of an educational establishment.

Royal Elite School is basically its name.

Located in the outskirts of London, the school was founded by King Henry IV at the beginning of the 14th century to provide education for scholars that later served in his court. After that, every king used it to cultivate his best subjects.

The school was later owned by aristocratic families and influential figures. They have the harshest and most closed-off entrance rates in the country. To this day, Royal Elite School — or RES — accepts only one per cent of the intelligent and filthy rich elite. Kids here inherit high IQ’s alongside their parents’ massive bank accounts.

Most prime ministers, parliament members, and business tycoons graduated from this school.

The high-privileged education can give me a sure push into Cambridge. Aunt Blair and Uncle Jaxon studied there, and they’re my role models in everything.

My dream is theirs. Teamwork.

This is my chance to escape all the rumours in my old school and start anew.

A fresh page.

A new chapter.

A blank book.

I stare down at my uniform that my aunt pressed to perfection and the adorable black ballerina flats — a present from Uncle Jaxon. The blue skirt is tight at my waist and flares down to a little above my knees where my thigh-high stockings accentuate my tall legs.

My white button-down shirt is tucked into the skirt’s high-waist. A dark blue ribbon snakes around my neck like a dainty tie. I also wear the obligatory school jacket on which the school’s golden symbol is engraved; a shield, a lion, and a crown.

My white-ish blonde hair falls in a fluffy ponytail down my back. I went out of my way by applying a bit of makeup. The mascara enhances my eyelashes and brings out my baby blue eyes. I even put on Aunt’s Nina Ricci perfume.

Today is the day that determines my life for the next three years. Hell, it’ll determine my life afterwards if – when – I get into Cambridge, so I needed to do everything right.

As I stride through the school’s huge, stony arch, I try to mimic the other students’ confidence. It’s hard when I already feel like an outsider. Students here wear their pristine uniforms as if they’re made from gold-soaked cloth. The aura of high, mighty, and a bit snobby drifts from every chatter and measured step.

Ninety per cent of Royal Elite School attended Royal Elite Junior prior to this. They chat amongst each other like old friends reuniting after the summer while I stand out as a loner.

Again.

An itch starts under my skin and spreads along my hands. My breathing deepens and my steps turn forceful as memories filter back in.

Poor thing.

Did you hear what happened to her parents?

Heard she’s a charity case by her aunt and uncle.

I shake those voices away and forge through. This time, I’m determined to blend in. No one here knows about my past, and unless they specifically search me, they wouldn’t.

Elsa Quinn is a new person.

By the entrance, I spot a student who’s avoiding the crowd by sneaking her way along the side pathway leading to the huge double doors. I notice her because I was also contemplating the same path.

While I’d love to fit in, crowds cause that familiar itch to rise under my skin.

The loner’s skirt is bigger. She’s on the thick side and has the roundest, cutest features I’ve seen on a girl my age. With her huge rounded eyes, plump lips and braided long brown hair, she almost looks like a child.

And she’s the first presence in this school that doesn’t give me the ‘untouchable’ vibe.

I catch up to her and match her fast-walking pace. “Morning.”

Her head snaps my way, but she soon stares at her feet and tightens her grip on the strap of her messenger bag.

“I’m sorry.” I offer my most welcoming smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Perhaps she’s one of the new kids here, too, and feels intimidated.

“You shouldn’t be talking to me,” she whispers under her breath. Even her voice is cute.

“Why not?”

She stares at me for the first time with eyes so green, they nearly sparkle like a tropical sea. “Wow. You have beautiful eyes.”

“T-thanks.” Her lips curve into a tentative smile as if she shouldn’t be doing the smiling thing. She kicks imaginary rocks as she speaks. “You’re too pretty, you shouldn’t be talking to the school’s outcast.”

“Outcast?” I echo, incredulous. “There’s no such thing as an outcast. If I want to talk to you, I will.”

She troubles her bottom lip and I swear, I’m itching to pinch her adorable cheeks.

“Are you new here, too?” I ask, instead of acting like a creep on the first meeting.

She shakes her head. “I studied in REJ.”

“REJ?”

“Royal Elite Junior.”

“Oh.”

Considering how she wasn’t in a horde of people, I assumed she’s new. Perhaps her friends haven’t arrived yet.

“Do you want me to show you around?” she asks in a tentative, small voice.

Aunt, Uncle, and I came for a tour during the summer, but I won’t refuse a chance to bond with my first potential friend.

“Sure.” I interlink my arm with hers. “What’s your name?”

“Kimberly. You?”

“Elsa — and in my defence, I was born way before the Disney film came out.”

She chirps a little laughter. “Your parents must have psychic powers.”

“Aunt said Mum named me after a Swedish nurse who did lots of saving in both World Wars and was nicknamed the ‘Angel of Siberia’. You know, Siberia, Elsa, and then Frozen, the ice princess? So maybe Mum did have psychic powers. Pretty lame. I know.”

“No. It’s so cool.” Her shyness slowly withers away as we walk together. Now that I have her, I don’t feel as alone or dejected.

My grin widens as Kimberly shows me around elegant, huge classes. The locker rooms. The pool — that I avoided. The principal’s office that she jokes we shall never visit in a Shakespearian-like tone.

My three years in RES will be marvellous. I can almost feel it.

Once we reach the enormous, bright green football pitch, another type of giddiness takes me over. Not only because I’m such a nerd fan of Premier League and a die-hard Arsenal fan like Uncle, but also because of the long track surrounding the pitch.

This school definitely has better equipment than my last and I can continue running as usual. Hopefully, my heart condition won’t start acting up again.

A crowd of RES’s students gathers near the wiring that surrounds the pitch. Eager murmurs and excited gleams float in the air and it tastes like Christmas or a kid’s first visit to the amusement park. Everyone seems to be naturally drawn to this place and they keep multiplying by the second.

“Elites.”

“They’re here.”

“I say it’s a championship year.”

“For sure.”

“Have you seen how that little shit became even more illegal? I’d so do him.”

“Shut it. He doesn’t know you exist.”

While everyone chatters happily, Kimberly stands at the far end of the wiring, near the wall to the exit. Her easy, albeit timid smile withers away and her fair skin whitens some more.

I join her and follow her gaze.

On the pitch, the football team players pass the ball amongst each other with their heads or shoulders. They weren’t playing or even in the team’s jerseys. The school’s uniform for the girls is pretty, but it’s dead gorgeous for the boys, especially if they have fit bodies like these athletes.

They wear pressed dark blue trousers, white shirts and fitted jackets like ours. The only difference is that the boys have red ties with the school’s symbol.

The crowd’s attention strays to the four boys standing off to the side, half-playing with the team and half-chatting amongst each other.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out they’re in a league of their own.

Kimberly’s gaze remains on the tallest boy who’s throwing a ball in the air and laughing like a young film star in the making. He has a classical, golden boy handsomeness. Slicked blond hair, sharp jawline, tanned skin, and a blinding smile, even from this distance.

However, the expression on Kimberly’s face isn’t of admiration or excitement like everyone present. If anything, it’s of… dread?

“Who are they?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

“They’re the elite of the elite.” Her voice trembles, genuinely, it trembles. “If you want to have a peaceful life in RES, you have to be on their good side.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Kids can’t own a school. “Who’s the golden boy?”

“Xander Knight and he’s trouble,” she blurts fast as if her butt is on fire. “I like you, Elsa, and I mean it when I say, stay away.”

His put together type doesn’t interest me, anyway. I throw another look at him for a double-take.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand like needles when I meet the smokiest, most chilling eyes I’ve ever seen.

I hadn’t noticed him earlier because he was half hidden by Xander and his ball. He’s almost the same height as Xander, but with more developed shoulders. His uniform is missing the tie and he looks ruggedly handsome. Inky black hair runs long and slick in the middle, but it’s buzzed on the sides. His nose holds an aristocratic vibe although it appears a bit crooked like it was hurt before. That little imperfection adds more mystery and intrigue to him.

Something in my chest moves. I don’t know what it is, but it just moves.

It’s like a prisoner has been lurking in the corners of my chest and now decided it wanted to be set free.

Even if I want to break eye contact, I can’t.

He stares at me with a slightly tilted head and a silent, manic interest as if he’s meeting an old friend.

Or foe.

“Shit! Shit!” Kimberly grabs me by the jacket and pulls me in the direction of the exit.

“What…?” I’m incredulous, and a bit hazy from breaking eye contact with that boy.

“Just walk, Elsa,” she hisses as her quick footsteps pad along the pavement.

“Why are you taking me away?”

“King,” she mumbles under her breath. “Aiden freaking King.”

“And… who’s that?”

“He’s as much of a King as his last name. Heir of King Enterprises and of this damn school. His and the others’ parents own this place and you don’t want shit with them.”

“Okay.”

I don’t want shit with him either. He’s too attractive for that. Though I can’t place whatever got into me when I locked gazes with him.

Boys don’t interest me. I’m too nerdy for that and my studies always came above any boy drama.

That won’t change now.

Especially since my Cambridge dream is within reach.

Then why am I itching for another glimpse at those metallic eyes?

“Oh. Damn!” Kimberly curses again. “They’re coming this way.”

I glance over my shoulder and sure enough, Aiden and Xander stride towards us and the rest of the football team follow like a gang in a mafia film. All laughter disappears and even the bystander’s chatter halts abruptly and a tomb-like silence conquers the air.

The crowd parts for them like the red sea did for Moses.

“Run!” Kimberly whisper-yells, her nails digging into my wrist until I’m sure she’ll draw blood.

“Why would I run?”

Due to my struggles with Kimberly, they reach us in no time and block our epic failure run to the exit.

Up close, Aiden’s eyelashes are thick and as inky as his hair. A small, beauty mole sits at the edge of his deep, smoky eyes.

He stares down at me with a cold, foggy edge that matches the colour of his eyes.

Call it instinct, but something tells me I should be scared of him.

Like that prisoned thing from earlier, something claws at the corners of my chest, screaming at me to run and never look back.

That’s ridiculous. I don’t know Aiden, why should I run?

“Isn’t it Berly?” Xander asks Kimberly in a detached tone before his lips curve into a cruel smirk. “You look even nerdier this year.”

Everyone around us bursts into laughter, throwing fat-shaming remarks her way. My cheeks tint in red on Kim’s behalf, but it’s not due to embarrassment.

My blood boils to smash Xander’s golden boy looks to the ground.

I open my mouth to say something, but I’m cut off when Kim lowers her head, lips trembling, and sprints past Xander to the exit.

He follows her with a smirk tilting his lips.

I should’ve seen what’ll happen next coming.

I don’t.

A strong hand wraps around my throat and pushes me against the wall. My back hits the brick and pain shoots down my spine and tightens the pit of my stomach.

I always thought myself brave, but nothing, absolutely nothing could’ve prepared me for this sudden, aggressive attack from a complete stranger.

The grey eyes I thought were beautiful seconds ago glare into my soul with murderous intent. The dark shadow on his face terrifies me more than his grip on my throat.

His other hand clutches my jaw, and my lips tremble at the thought that he’ll snap my neck.

“W-What are you doing?”

He leans forward so his mouth hovers inches away from mine and growls. “I will destroy you.”

Those words seal my fate.