Deviant King (Royal Elite #1) by Rina Kent

Aiden doesn’t say anything, he just shampoos my hair. His fingers glide over my scalp, massaging it. I tilt my head back and sigh in contentment.

“Aiden,” I speak more clearly this time. “Did your father…?”

“Jonathan King isn’t a violent man.” He sounds sarcastic. “He’ll sue you for defamation if hears you saying such nonsense.”

“Then who is it?”

“None of your business.”

“Well, I’m making it my business.”

“You’re not ready.”

“Try me.”

“If I tell you, you’ll have to tell me everything in return. And I mean every fucking thing, Elsa. Including your nightmares. If you’re ready to bare your soul to me, then, by all means, start first, sweetheart.”

I clamp my lips shut. Horror seeps into my bones at the thought of my nightmares and my childhood. I don’t even like thinking about it, let alone talking about it.

I’m itching to know about his scars but not to the point of probing my own scars.

“That’s what I thought.” He spills water on my hair.

I close my eyes as the water and shampoo cascade down my face.

He managed to shut me up so easily.

His counterargument is fair enough. You talk, I talk. But I still can’t help sulking.

Damn Aiden King.

We spend a few minutes silent as he finishes rinsing my hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?” he asks casually.

I pause, startled by the drastic change of subject. “I didn’t tell you I wasn’t.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. You assumed it yourself.”

I crane my head to have a better look, but he grips me by the neck and keeps me facing ahead.

“Why were you a virgin?”

“Uh… what type of question is that?”

He carefully tucks the strands of hair on the side of my neck. His hands curl on my shoulders. “It’s simple enough. Why did you wait this long?”

For the right person.

But I don’t tell him that or he’d think he’s the right person.

I lift a shoulder. “It’s no big deal.”

“You know.” His tone is casual but the undertone isn’t. “There will be no trust between us if you continue lying to me.”

I crane my head back to glance at him. “Trust? You think I’d ever trust you?”

His lips tighten in a line, but he smiles. “Why not?”

“I don’t know, Aiden. Maybe it has to do with the fact that you targeted me the first time you saw me. Or that my life has been a living hell for two years because of you? Take your pick.”

One of his hands wraps around my nape. It’s firm as if to keep me in place. “Then why did you give me your virginity?”

“I’m attracted to you,” I whisper. “Even though I hate it, I just am, but that doesn’t erase what you did the last two years. You keep pushing me. It’s not like I have a choice in being attracted to you.”

“Is that what you want? A choice?”

“What does it matter? You always get what you want.” I huff. “Even when you give me a choice, it ends up playing in your favour.”

Aiden is thoughtful for a bit. The scary, silent type of thoughtful. “I see.”

He drops his hands.

A strange chill crawls up my spine despite the warm water.

Aiden’s poker face is the last thing I see before he walks out of the door.





Chapter Thirty-One





On Monday, Uncle, Aunt and I are having breakfast together when I say, “I want to see Dr Khan.”

Two pairs of eyes snap from their tasks. Uncle pauses drinking his morning coffee and reading from his tablet. Aunt stops packing my lunch, her hands shaking around the container.

“Are you having nightmares again? What did you see?” Her tone is almost hysterical.

“Stop it, Blair.” Uncle abandons his coffee and tablet on the table and rises to his feet. I face him as he clutches my shoulders and says in a cool voice, “Are you all right, pumpkin? Why didn’t you call us when you had the nightmares?”

I can’t help noticing the difference between Aunt and Uncle’s reactions. Her eyes are shifty and she keeps opening and closing the container as if she’s not aware of what she’s doing. Whenever the topic of my nightmares resurfaces, Aunt never asked me if I was okay. Her first question was always ‘what did you see?’

Uncle, on the other hand, always asked if I was fine.

It’s weird.

In everything else, Aunt cares about my wellbeing more than Uncle. She’s the one who acts like a Nazi to make sure I eat healthily.

Maybe she doesn’t think that my mental state is part of my health.

Either way, I’m not in the mood to talk about my episode on Saturday.

I smile and hope it comes out convincing. “It’s not about the nightmares. I just want to talk about the stress of exams.”

Aunt’s shoulders droop and she stops opening and closing the container.

Uncle’s brows furrow. “You never had exams’ stress before, pumpkin.”

“Everyone is competitive at school and I keep thinking that maybe someone will push me out of the top ten per cent,” The lies tumble from my mouth so easily.