Cruel King (Royal Elite #0) by Rina Kent

I’m about to rip it when a shadow looms over me. My head snaps up, and I remove my earbuds at the same time. Super Massive Black Hole by Muse continues thumping low as I meet a senior’s gaze.

He has messy brown hair and a buff physique, especially his shoulders and chest. His name is Jerry Huntington, if I remember correctly, and he’s part of the Rugby team.

“Yes?” I ask, unsure why he’s approaching me.

He smiles like a cartoon character. I’m sure he meant to woo me with it or something. In that case, epic fail.

“The guys and I are going out for a beer, do want to join us?” he asks in a suggestive tone.

“No, thanks.” I fling my backpack to the front and stuff my sketchpad and earbuds inside.

“Come on, babe, you’ll like it.” I catch him licking his lips from the corner of my eyes. “I promise.”

“I said no.” I try to speak as low as possible, hoping he’ll get the freaking hint and go away.

It’s not that I’m not interested in boys, but athletes never appealed to me.

Aside from my freaking muse, of course.

I close the zipper of my backpack when his hand snags around my wrist. His voice turns threatening as he speaks, “I said you’ll like it. Don’t pretend like you’re hard to get, everyone knows you’re a little slut.”

“That’s enough!” I push at him and attempt to yank my wrist. “Let me go.”

He doesn’t. If anything, his grip tightens until my wrist hurts.

I groan, my throat closing around the scream that’s bubbling to be set free. My face heats with exertion and even though I try to rein in my reaction, I can’t help the shivers of fear crowding my shoulders.

For the love of Vikings, this can’t be happening again.

One second, I’m trying to free myself from Jerry’s hold, the next, a large frame slams into Jerry’s bulk and pushes him straight to the concrete.

I stare in stunned silence as Levi smashes Jerry to the ground. Although the rugby player is bigger, Levi doesn’t show a sign of backing off.

He launches successive blows at Jerry’s face and abdomen like he’s a punching bag. It takes Jerry long seconds to gather his wits and hit back. He uses his upper bulk to push Levi into the ground and fixate him with a knee to his stomach before he punches him over and over again.

Something twists in my chest at the constant slaps of flesh against flesh.

But maybe it’s not because of the violence. Maybe this is because of something else.

Nope. I’m not going there.

Soon after, Levi takes the upper hand. Their view isn’t so clear with them rolling on the ground, wrestling to get the upper hand.

I don’t have to see the blackness in Levi’s mood to feel it.

It permeates the air like a suffocating, impenetrable smoke.

He’s not only fighting Jerry, he’s out for blood.

“Stop it!” I shout when I’m partially out of my stupor. “Stop!”

Neither of them listens. If anything, their punches and grunts become more violent. At this rate, they’ll kill each other.

My gaze strays both ways, looking for anything that will help in stopping the two bulls.

When I find nothing, I put two fingers in my mouth and siffle loud.

Jerry is the one who looks up first. Levi punches him in the face and stands up as his opponent falls to the ground.

When the rugby player pushes to his feet, obviously ready for another round, I speak in a loud, clear tone. “I’ll call the principle.”

“Fucking bitch,” Jerry mutters under his breath while dusting his trousers. “Can’t see what’s so special about her.”

“What did you just say?” Levi is in his face in a second.

Of course Levi doesn’t give a shit about the threat of the principle. I’m starting to learn that he doesn’t give two fucks about anything.

I stride to them and place a hand on Levi’s shoulder. “Let him go, he’s not worth it.”

Jerry gives a lopsided smirk that smears the blood from his lips over his teeth. “Listen to your slut, King.”

Before I can see the gloom on Levi’s face, I feel it. No, I breathe it in the air.

It’s there in the quick rise and fall of his chest. The clenching of his fists. The stiffness of his shoulders.

I stare up at him and gulp audibly.

His gaze is completely black.

Dark.

Deadly.

It’s like he can kill Jerry and not feel an ounce of guilt about it.

He starts to push me away, but I block his path so my back is to his front and I’m facing Jerry.

“Isn’t your father Judge Huntington?” I ask in my coolest voice.

“Good you know about that.” Jerry continues smirking and I gloat in the fact that I’m wiping it off. Once and for all.

“I suggest you go home and ask your daddy about the money he embezzled from the crown court. Because guess who has evidence? That would be my own daddy. Now, if I go home and tell him Judge Huntington’s loser son harassed me, who do you think will pay?”

All Jerry’s smirks disappear and his face turns ashen. I bet he thinks no one knows about his father’s extracurricular activities. It’s not that Dad tells us these types of things, but I overheard a phone conversation the other day — when I was sneaking out. The information stayed with me, especially since the said judge has been appearing more and more on TV.