“And this one?” From Madden’s tone, it was clear he figured Kel thought the very same about whatever cadet had just caught his eye.
Kelevra grinned, not bothering to hold back that flicker of anticipation he felt coursing through his veins.
“Good Light. Who are you even talking about?” Madden gave in, knowing there was no way he was going to be able to convince Kel to give up on his pursuit. “And what exactly do you want him for? At least let me be prepared this time. Your sister was clear. If any more of her flock, as you so kindly put it, get injured off Academy grounds at your hand, there will be consequences.”
“The one with the sand-colored hair,” Kelevra answered absently. “And he isn’t a sheep.”
“No?” Madden quirked a dark brow. “Well then, enlighten me, your majesty. What is he then?”
The word mine blared through Kel’s mind in technicolor, and he took a moment to mull it over. There were very few things in this world that could be considered as not his. The Diar name ensured most everything was accessible to him. His looks ensured most everyonewas as well. But that didn’t mean he went around making claims. What would be the point? He grew tired of it all eventually anyway, and marking his territory had never been of interest to him.
Taming something meant taking responsibility for it, and Kel?
He hated responsibility.
Too much red tape and rules for his liking. That’s why he was content being third in line. Happy even. It meant he got all the perks but none of the demands. Even his sister’s threat, the one Madden was so concerned about, didn’t hold any true weight.
Kelevra charmed his siblings the same way he did everyone else.
Still, no matter how interested he was in this cadet, voicing the word mine was too strong. Without a doubt, things would end up exactly how Madden feared anyway. With Kel growing tired of his newfound plaything and tossing him to the side.
“Hey,” Madden bumped into his shoulder, “What is he?”
Kel considered it, grin returning, vicious and bright. “A flower.”
One Kelevra intended to pluck.
Chapter 1:
Cold water sluiced down Rin’s back and he clenched his teeth, bearing through it. The locker room was filled with chatter from the other cadets and he stuck his head under the heavy spray, trying to block them all out.
He was pissed at Ives for cutting him off like that, but he was frustrated with himself for allowing it to get to him. He’d had a plan. A good one. An important one. And he’d tossed it aside at the first sign of disrespect from a nobody who didn’t even matter.
Ives was a prick, everyone knew it, so really, there was no reason his actions today on the obstacle course should have set Rin off, and yet…
He swore and pulled back, shutting off the shower with more force than necessary before spinning on his heels and grabbing his towel. He dried off and stepped from the stall, one of two dozen cubicles set in this section of the locker room, and then made his way to the main area where others were already in the process of getting changed.
They’d been given fifteen minutes to rinse off and put on a new set of clothes before they were due to meet in the gym, and Rin had wasted more than half of that time just trying to cool himself down. He was moody as fuck. Only, he couldn’t be.
Rin Varun wasn’t the moody sort. He was charismatic and friendly, always down for a good time.
It took literally everything in him not to punch Ives in the face as he passed the other cadet on the way to his locker.
Friendly.
Yeah right.
“Way to go, Varun,” Pen, another cadet who was already dressed, slapped him on the back of the shoulder. “Third place.”
“How’d you swing that?” Mile, who was standing nearby joked with a friendly smirk.
Rin got along with just about everyone in their class and on campus, but that didn’t mean this wasn’t still a competition of sorts. Everyone wanted to be noticed, wanted to climb the ranks.
Everyone except for him, that was.
“By stealing it, that’s how,” Ives stated bitterly. He was sitting on one of the benches that lined the room, in front of the orange locker with his cadet number on it. As soon as he finished tying his bootlace he sent a glare over at Rin.
A million and one insults danced on the edge of Rin’s tongue.
