Twisted Kingdom: A Dark New Adult Romance (Royal Elite Book 3)

Past

I wrap my hand around Grey Eyes’. The freezing temperature shocks my warm skin.

I frown as I stare up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were cold?”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. Daddy says children can’t get cold or they’ll get sick. I don’t want you to get sick.”

His lips move into a small smile. It’s so rare to see him smile. I’ve even given him my Maltesers and he still wouldn’t smile as big as I do.

He watches me closely like Uncle Agnus does when there’s something on my face.

I wipe at the corner of my mouth, but there’s nothing. “Why are you looking at me like that?

“If you keep your promise, I won’t get sick.”

I grin and lean my head on his shoulder. It’s warm, his shoulder, even though the rest of him isn’t. “I will! Absolutely.”

Present

A knot squeezes tightly around my heart like a noose, filled with wires and mines.

Sitting up in bed, I wipe the stray tear falling down my cheek. I don’t even know why I’m crying.

I didn’t have a nightmare, but the stiffness in my chest almost make it seem like one.

Something feral and wild beats beneath my skin, something scary, but also… exhilarating.

I pull my knees to my chest and watch my hands under the dim light of the night lamp. No idea why I do that. It’s not like I can reincarnate the feeling of his hand in mine.

Or the warmth of his shoulder when I laid my head against it.

Or how easy our interactions were.

We’re like two pieces of the same puzzle, him and I.

He was beautiful even back then — with his boyish features and tousled hair.

He grew up to be lethal.

The words we exchanged play in a loop in my mind. We made a promise. How come I don’t remember it?

You’re the one who never keeps her promises.

Surely, a promise made by a seven-year-old and an eight-year-old can’t be that important.

It’s three in the morning, and I probably won’t be able to find sleep any time soon. I plug my earbuds in and hit play on my iPod. Paradise by Coldplay fills my ears as I retrieve my phone and go through Instagram.

Since Aiden and Silver talked to me on Friday, I went back to stalking him.

What?

I can’t control my cravings anymore. I was only able to do that due to my resolve and because I thought I was the other woman.

Now that all those reasons vanished, I’m possessed by this need to check up on him. To just look at him.

He’s a drug, Aiden. I’m just a loser on withdrawal.

This is not healthy, but whatever.

I miss him. As far as I know, there’s no cure for that, so I’ll just scroll through his IG.

He uploaded the last picture about half an hour ago. It’s a black and white shot of the surface of his pool. No caption.

Since it’s late, he must be having trouble sleeping.

I wonder if he’s also thinking about those days in the basement. Maybe he, too, was woken up because of a memory from the past.

A deep longing hits me out of nowhere. It tastes sour, but also delicious.

The longer I stare at his face in the pictures, at his midnight hair and cloudy eyes, at his infectious smile and the devil inside, the harder I’m tempted to reach out to him.

I can hit ‘like’ and alert him to the fact that I’m online. That I’m awake and thinking about him and our fucked up past.

The song switches to Things We Lost in The Fire by Bastille.

I exit his Instagram before I do something I’ll regret come morning. I shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions this late.

I lie in bed and watch the neon blue numbers on the nightstand, but I can’t quite let go of my phone.

Agnus got everyone of us that same alarm clock with blue numbers instead of red. He said it’s better for relaxation.

He’s always busy making our lives better down to the smallest details. Knox mentioned that he took care of them, the company, and my comatose Dad during the past ten years.

The loyalty he holds for Dad is admirable, to say the least.

Knox says Agnus’ only fault is being too quiet.

I disagree. It’s such a rare quality. Agnus doesn’t speak unless he’s spoken to and his answers are always short and straight to the point.

My phone vibrates. I jump.

My lips part and my toes curl at the name on the screen.

Aiden: Asleep?

Holy shit.

Does he have telepathic powers or something? I rush back to Instagram and check if I left a like by mistake.

Nothing. Thank God.

Aiden: You’re not.

I mark the texts as read, but I don’t reply.

Aiden: Hmm. I like it when you’re stubborn, sweetheart. It makes me rock hard thinking about how to fuck that defiance out of you.

My muscles’ memory kicks into gear.

I’m thrown back to the times Aiden wrapped his hand around my throat and pounded into me like a mad man in need of his sanity. Like he can’t get deep enough or fuck me hard enough.

My core springs back to life at the memory.

It’s been a long time — nearly a month. My sexual cravings are going through withdrawals as well. Bringing myself to orgasm doesn’t even count. It’s pathetic compared to Aiden’s intensity.

Of course, I don’t tell him that. But I do throw the covers away because it’s getting too hot.

Another text pings on my screen.

Aiden: I’m fantasising about how to fuck you next time I see you. Against the wall, on the floor, or in a fucking public toilet. So many choices.

He’s so sure I’ll let him fuck me the next time.

Arrogant prick.

Elsa: You said you won’t touch me until I forgive you. I still haven’t.

Aiden: You were given all the reasons to forgive me. Now, you’re just playing hard to get.

Elsa: I’m not.

I really am not. I just want him to feel the weight of his betrayal, to recognise how much he shook my trust. That’s not too much to ask for.

Aiden: Yes, you are. So I’m changing my tactics.

Changing his tactics? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I’m still mulling his words over when another text comes through.

Aiden: Are you wearing the rabbit pjs?

Elsa: No.

Aiden: Hmm. Does that mean you’re wearing nothing?

I smile despite myself. Aiden and his screwed up mind could be weapons of mass destruction.

Elsa: It means I’m wearing something else.

Aiden: Still, you’re naked underneath.

Well, yes. I’m only wearing a cotton nightie and nothing else.

But he doesn’t need to know that.

Aiden: Do you know what I want?

I see the text but I don’t reply.

Still, my nipples tighten against the cloth of my nightdress as the dots appear and disappear.

He’s playing with me.

And it’s turning me on.

The reply doesn’t come through for long seconds. When I think he gave up on replying, another text appears.

Aiden: I want to fuck you so hard in all positions possible and remind you who you belong to. I’ll tongue-fuck you and finger-fuck you and come down your throat. Then I’ll claim that virgin arse for good measure. You’ll be all fucking mine. Every. Last. Inch. Of. You. Oh, and you’ll scream it for the world to hear. Then I’ll bathe you and loosen your muscles just so I can worship your body all over again. When you finally fall asleep it’ll be in my arms with your legs tucked between mine. As you rest, I’ll watch your adorable sleeping face until morning.

A flush covers me from head to toe, under my clothes and over my skin. A jolt of desire engulfs me like a fog, a halo.

My breath hitches as I read and re-read his words.

And damn me.

Deep down, a part of me wants that, too. That part will be the fucking death of me.

Aiden: I waited for a long time. You know I’m not a patient person.

Aiden: Keep your promise.

I wait for fifteen more minutes, re-reading his filthy words, and rubbing my thighs together, but he doesn’t send any more texts.

Hugging the phone to my chest, I fall asleep with a knot in my chest and dissatisfaction between my thighs.

In the morning, Dad drives us to school. He has a meeting with RES’s principal about a generous donation.

In this circle, generous donations mean ‘my child is made of gold and shouldn’t be touched’.

Jonathan does that all the time. That’s why both Levi and Aiden are untouchable in the school.

I tried persuading Dad not to do it, but Agnus said I won’t be able to change his mind now that he has put his resources into it.

Dad decided to be a thorn in Jonathan’s side, and he’ll stop at nothing to make it happen.

It’s a fight to the death, whether I like to admit it or not.

Rivalling Jonathan’s donation to the school is Dad’s way to prove his power. One thing’s for certain: the board will be thrilled with all the money transferred into their accounts.

Teal, Knox, and I part ways with Dad at the car park. He heads to the administration building while we walk into the eighth tower.

“This is so stupid,” Teal sighs.

“I agree,” I say.

“It’s fun!” Knox smirks. “Think about it. Don’t you like the clashing of powers? This is like Game of Thrones without the dragons.”

I shake my head. Teal rolls her eyes.

“You two are so boring.” His face lights up when Ronan appears down the hall with Xander.

Death has Conquest in a lock as he says something in rapid fire. They’re probably bickering again.

The girls in the hall flock to them like they’re gods walking the earth.

Both Ronan and Xander have the time to wink at one girl and wave at the other even during their bickering.

They’re approachable — overly so. If it were Aiden and Cole, they’d be erasing everyone from their immediate vicinity — especially Aiden.

Cole might be polite, but he doesn’t go out of his way to make a connection or invite people to parties like the two walking towards us.

“Now, they aren’t boring.” Knox grins, waving at them. “Ro!”

“Oh, please. This isn’t the headache I need on a Monday morning.” Teal retrieves her phone and scrolls through it.

I’m starting to think the device is her weapon of choice when she decides to erase the outside world.

“Van Doren.” Ronan and Xander hug Knox in that awkward bro kind of way.

They have been hanging out since the first practice game. Knox has become a regular at Ronan’s parties — to Dad’s dismay.

Not sure if Aiden likes it, but the two of them don’t seem to care.

“How was my weed?” Ronan points at him with a triumphant expression. “I told you you’d see three girls as six.”

Xander nods in our direction.

“Mesdemoiselles.” Ronan searches around us. “Where’s my Kimmy?”

That earns him a slap upside the head from Xander. Ronan elbows him in the side. “As I was saying, where’s my Kimmy?”

“She had to drive her brother to school,” I tell him.

“I see.” He holds my hand. “I missed you during the weekend, Ellie. Why didn’t you come to my party? You should’ve seen my ace performance at the drinking competition. I won, by the way, not to be boastful or anything.”

“You know I’m not big on parties,” I say.

He waggles his eyebrows. “Unless King is there and you’re making babies with him.”

My cheeks heat. Ronan won’t let me live down that time when he nearly walked in on us.

“Do all your conversations have to revolve around sex and alcohol?” Teal asks with genuine curiosity.

“And weed.” He grins, showing his pearly white teeth. “That’s the most important part, ma belle.”

She rolls her eyes and strolls in the opposite direction.

Teal does that a lot — walking away without so much as an excuse — but she does it more often when Ronan is around.

“That’s a record, Astor.” Xander hits his shoulder, laughing. “Never thought there will be a day where a girl will leave because of you.”

“Right? I think so, too.” Ronan scratches his jaw. “She must be an alien. No offence, Van Doren.”

“Being an alien is cool, mate.” Knox grins, but something sinister lurks underneath. “But go near her and I’ll cut you, human style.”

“Go near her?” Xander laughs. “She’ll hang his balls on a stick before you even interfere.”

“That’s actually true.” Knox appears like he just thought about that. “Even my balls aren’t safe from her.”

“Ellie,” Ronan leans in to whisper. “Are they really aliens? Do they do weird twin alien shit at home? Do I have to save you? I have my white horse waiting just outside.”

I burst out laughing. He’s such a weirdo, but a great one at that.

“Finally.” Ronan flings an arm over my shoulder. “I missed that laugh.”

The four of us walk to class together, jesting and talking about the Premier League. Knox is the only one amongst us who supports Chelsea. Needless to say, Xander and Ronan give him hell for it.

Their verbal bickering extends to class with everyone watching them as if they’re world wonders.

Kim comes in last-minute, grumbling about the traffic and how she barely got Kirian to school on time.

For no reason at all, she glares at Xander before she settles in her seat. He barely glances in her direction, though.

Weird.

Class starts, but neither Aiden nor Cole show up. That’s bizarre. They don’t skip classes. Ever.

Especially Cole.

I retrieve my phone and check the text Aiden sent me first thing in the morning.

Aiden: Morning, sweetheart. Did you dream of me?

Aiden: I did. Now I have to jerk off all alone while picturing you.

Erotic images fill my mind. Aiden fisting his cock in that rough, masculine way, thinking about me, and bringing himself to orgasm. Aiden’s godlike expression when he comes, the tightening of his abs, and the strength of his release.

I squirm in my seat.

Wrong thought in class. Extremely wrong.

I try to focus on Mr Huntington as he reads from the textbook.

“Did you punch the bitch queen again?” Kim whispers from beside me.

“No. Why?”

“She’s absent.”

I search behind me, and sure enough, Silver isn’t here either. Wait. My frantic gaze scans around the classroom.

Someone else is absent.

Adam Herran.

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

I should’ve known better after I noticed the way he watched her and how he cornered her in the car park.

Would he really hurt her?

Shit.

If both Aiden and Cole are absent, does that mean they’re helping her?

My legs bounce during the entire class. I can’t concentrate no matter how much I try as all sorts of theories jump into my head.

None of them are good.

What if Adam hurts Aiden? What if something bad happens?

I mean, Aiden is usually the type who inflicts pain, not the other way around, but what if something goes wrong?

What if he’s taken by surprise?

I’m going crazy with one pessimistic scenario after the other.

Dread tightens my stomach as time slowly ticks by.

Come back.

Come back.

Come fucking back.

I retrieve my phone and type him a text.

Elsa: Where are you?

I delete it before sending it and choose to instead send him a late reply to his morning texts.

Elsa: I don’t dream, remember?

My heart lunges in my chest when my phone vibrates with a reply.

Aiden: I’ll dream for the both of us.

The memory hits me out of nowhere.

“I don’t remember my dreams,” I tell the boy with grey eyes.

He pinches my cheek. “I’ll dream for the both of us.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, Elsa.”