Black Knight (Royal Elite #4) by Rina Kent

His blue eyes are the emptiest I’ve seen since the day he lost his mum. He’s cold and so hollow, it’s scary.

“Xan!” I sprint towards him, tripping twice, but I manage not to fall to my butt.

I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him so close, I think I may suffocate him. “I’m so sorry, Xan. I didn’t mean to. I’m so, so sorry.”

He places a hand on my chest and shoves me away. It’s so angry and strong, I reel back with the movement.

I deserve that. I’m the one who put him into this in the first place.

I also deserve the deadly glare he’s giving me. Maybe I’ll have to do his homework for two years?

“Stay away from me.” His voice is thick, the harshest I’ve heard him talk.

Okay, so I’ll do the homework for three years.

“I’m so sorry, Xander.”

“Don’t say my name again.” He glares at me. “Don’t talk to me ever again.”

“Xan…” My voice breaks, and I approach him slowly. My heart is on my sleeves and I sniffle as I reach out a tentative hand and clutch the hem of his jacket. “Don’t make me. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll do anything as long as you forgive me.”

“Don’t touch me. You’re disgusting.” He shoves me so hard, I fall on my butt on the solid ground.

It doesn’t hurt.

Or it does, but it’s nothing compared to the pain of his words.

Or how I feel when he turns away and leaves, without a glance, without offering me his hand.

He left me.

And never looked back.

That day was the last day I called Xander my friend.

A week later, Luna was hit by a car and died.

Seven years later, the loss of them still beats under my skin, loud, hard, and unbearable.





12





Kimberly





You know that feeling when everything and everyone seems wrong?

You wake up in the morning and instantly wish you hadn’t, or worse, you want a redo of your entire life.

It’s the stuff people go to therapists for, and the stuff that keeps people like me up all night, hoping against hope we won’t wake up in the morning altogether.

Only to be disgusted with ourselves after.

That’s how today started, morbid and awful.

I didn’t have my usual happy pill from Kirian, and now, I hate myself for wanting Kir merely to feel better about myself.

Try being a human, Kim.

Not today, brain. Leave me alone.

Like any teenager with issues, plural, I hide from them by sneaking off to the garden. It’s weird how I recognise having issues, but I don’t want to name said issues.

Naming them is taboo. Naming them means I have to get into a rabbit hole of myself and I kind of don’t like that. Myself, I mean.

Today is just too much. Too raw and too real, and I’ve had enough with everything, and everyone.

I bottle it inside the same way any good, typical teenager with issues would.

Mum is lucky to have a daughter like me. I don’t take it out on people or drugs. Parties or boys. I have other purging methods, ones she approves of.

Such as starving myself.

I jab my fork at the bottom of my food container but don’t take a bite of my salad. I’m not in the mood to vomit; it’ll make my stomach way worse.

No, thanks.

If Elsa finds out I bailed out on her and Teal, she’ll be upset, but I don’t want her to see the puffiness under my eyes or the hollowness in them.

No matter how much makeup I put on, I can still feel the tears from last night.

I fell asleep crying after Xander shut me down so harshly. I can still sense the blade, hear the crunch against the bone and feel him twisting it inside.

He didn’t even need a new weapon. He just used that rusty knife he left in my heart that day seven years ago.

My lips are still tingling from the way he kissed me, how he grabbed me and held me like we’ll never be apart in any reincarnation.

Then he pushed me. He brought me up for air just so he could drown me all over again.

I stab my fork in a piece of tomato.

I hate him.

I hate him so fucking much.

“What did that food do to you, Kimmy?”

My war against the salad halts for a second as Ronan slides to my side, grinning wide. “There you are.”

“How did you find me?”

“I have special skills, chéri.” He plucks a piece of lettuce, chews on it, then throws it away. “How do you eat this shit?”

It’s simple. I don’t.

“Where were you yesterday, Kimmy? How can you come to my party and not wait for me? Hold on a second…” He looks me up and down as if he can read words on my clothes. “Did you get some?”

Some pushing, some kissing, some M&M’s. Take your pick.

“I’m not you, Ro,” I say instead.

“Of course you’re not. If you were, you would’ve been having fun, not hiding from a certain bastard with repulsive dimples.”

My eyes widen. He knows. How does he know? Am I underestimating how much Ronan is involved under the easy-going façade?

He waves a hand in front of my face. “Why do you look like a rat just died in your lap?”

“Ew, gross.” I hit his shoulder with mine.

“Not more gross than that.” He motions at my plate. “Go out with me and I’ll take you to the best cuisine, and it’s diet-friendly – my mother’s style.”