Deviant King (Royal Elite #1) by Rina Kent

Some snickers and ‘Frozen’ remarks get thrown in my direction, but they’re like white-noise.

These little minions can give me their freaking best and it wouldn’t matter.

I just kicked their king. In the nuts.

I’m smiling inwardly when my gaze falls on the other three demons.

Cole is sitting at his desk, reading his physics book. Xander sits on the top of the desk arguing with Ronan who’s standing.

The rest of the class are either trying to get in on the conversation or they’re watching.

The sad part is, I think they’re doing it subconsciously. They’re drawn to everything the four horsemen represent.

Power.

Charm.

Wealth.

Ronan is Death because he’s an impenetrable rock in the midfield.

Cole is Famine; silent but deadly when he attacks.

Xander is War; all he knows is how to wreak havoc.

And he did something to Kim. Because even now, she’s not here.

Kim was never late to school.

It could be my false sense of courage or the remains of adrenaline still buzzing through my veins, but I don’t stop to think about it.

I grip my backpack’s strap and stride towards the trio.

“I’m telling you, mate.” Ronan taps his index finger on the table in front of Xander. “She came to the party because of me.”

“Everyone came because of you,” Cole says. “You threw the party, remember?”

“La ferme, Captain! That’s not the point.” Ronan continues speaking to Xander. “Face it, she was there for me.”

“If it helps your ego, sure thing.” Xander laughs. “Can you pass me what you smoked last night?”

Ronan frowns. “Why?”

“That shit is good if it makes you believe things that don’t exist.”

“Screw you, Knight.” Ronan lunges at him.

In that exact moment, Cole’s neutral gaze meets mine. He clears his throat and the other two who are still bickering grow silent.

“Frozen?” Ronan jerks back as if he’s been punched. “Am I seeing things or is Frozen actually in front of us?”

He searches behind me and all around me then he grins. “Are you here to confess your love to me? I knew you always had a crush on me, but sorry, I only take confessions in the afternoon. Rules are rules.”

I ignore him and face Xander. “Where is she?”

Xander hops down from the desk. “Where’s who?”

“Kim,” I grind out.

“Oh,” Xander’s brows draw in feigned concern as he searches underneath the desk. “Captain, have you seen a little Kimberly around here? No? How about you, Ro? Search your pocket, maybe she hid in there.”

Ronan makes a show of stuffing his hands in his pocket. “Nope, not here.” He smirks fishing out a condom packet. “But I found this.”

My lips thin in disgust.

“Quoi?” Ronan asks. “Always safe.”

“I’m not here for your games,” I tell no one in particular.

“Then what are you here for?” Xander asks.

“Kim. Where is she?”

“If you don’t know where your friend is, how am I supposed to know, Frozen?”

I step closer, still clutching my backpack’s strap. “I know you did something to her yesterday.”

He smiles like a maniac. “Do you have proof?”

My nails dig into my palm until I almost draw blood.

“Hold up.” Ronan steps between us. “What happened? What proof? Someone fill me in.”

Cole shakes his head at him.

“What? I feel left out.” Ronan kicks his friend’s leg. “First, King flipped his shit at practice yesterday, then Knight does some fuckery behind our backs, and now, Frozen is speaking to us. You’ve got to admit that there’s nothing normal about this.”

Only one sentence remains playing like a loop in my head.

King flipped his shit at practice yesterday.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Aiden is an exemplary player and student. He doesn’t just flip his shit.

Does this have to do with what he did yesterday?

“Someone fill me in.” Ronan stares between his two friends. “Someone? Anyone?”

“Stay away from Kim,” I tell Xander with as much venom as I can manage.

“Or what? You’ll stop me?”

I’m about to reply when, unfortunately — or fortunately, it depends on how you see it – the teacher comes into the class. Everyone takes a seat and I find an empty one near the back.

My gaze meets Xander’s playful one. He sits in the row beside me, throws me my phone, and smirks.

I shudder. Arsehole.

“Oh, look. Kimberly isn’t in class.” The boastful tone he uses grates at me.

“Mr Knight.” The teacher, Mrs Stone, calls. “Class started, I’d appreciate it if you pay attention.”

“You’ve got all my attention, Mrs Stone.” He gives her a dimpled smile and opens his notebook.

Mrs Stone starts enumerating the class’s curriculum. I retrieve my pen and notebook and start scribbling notes.

Our English Literature teacher is probably the oldest in the school and will probably retire soon. Her grey hair is tied in a conservative bun and her glasses are held by those golden straps that no one uses anymore.