“Hate the class or the professor?” Tadeo smirked, and I narrowed my eyes. Hell, I was turning into Dagon.
I didn’t hate the subject. It was one of my favorites. The professor, though? Yeah, he was the king of dicks. Eww, no. Why the fuck did I think this? I shuddered at the revolting images my mind played.
When we finally reached our classroom, Tadeo greeted everyone, and we sat in our usual spots. I was more introverted and not close with our classmates, so I only said hi. I relaxed in my chair and did my best to focus on what Mr. Rayson was saying for the next two hours.
Success score? Around 10%.
Yep, I wasted two hours of my life. But how could I focus when my mind was somewhere else?
Some of my peers were chatting and weren’t paying attention (not that I was much better in the attention department). Why didn't our professor say anything to them? Oh, yeah, maybe because he was evil and took pleasure in giving us stuff on the exam when he saw some of us weren’t concentrating.
After two painfully slow hours, the class finally ended. The next one wasn’t better. By the end, I was ready for this week to be over.
I grabbed a cab back home. My racing thoughts were calmer now. Like always, I tried to distract myself with something. That something was music in the car. When I arrived home, I couldn’t wait to shower and get some sleep. But my fantasies turned to dust immediately.
Opening the front door, I came face to face with Dagon.
“Get out of my way,” he snapped. He pushed me, and I stumbled, barely managing not to fall.
Dagon could be an ass, but he never used force with any of us. What was happening? Was he okay?
Andras ran after Dagon, not paying me any attention.
The air in the foyer was thick with stifling tension. I turned to my right and saw our father. He was furious, and I flinched from the intensity of his anger. Under it, worry simmered, and I wondered what had happened.
“How were classes?” Dad was trying to rein in his anger and mask his feelings. His voice was ice-cold, with a note of desperation.
I examined him more closely, trying to gauge his mood and understand a possible reason why Dagon was so enraged. Our father had light brown hair and pale blue eyes. He was well-built, and his daily training helped him stay in shape. King was in his fifties, but he looked way younger.
Instead of their usual calm sky-blue color, his eyes looked like the sky before a storm. There was fury in them, like watchingflames burning around you, too paralyzed to move. The fire paralyzed every cell in your body as you stared into it.
I jumped when he asked the same question again.
“Uh, yeah, good.”
“I’m glad to hear that. You’re in your last year.” I tried not to flinch at his words. Hopefully, my expression stayed serious. “Dagon told you about the family meeting?”
My heart started galloping in my chest. “Yes. Is something wrong?”
“No need to worry. I’ll tell you more tomorrow. I want you all to be in the meeting room at 8 am sharp.”
I nodded and watched him retreat to his office. It was apparent he was pissed, and judging by how Dagon had greeted me, I’d bet all my books it was Dagon who pissed off our dad.
My head was killing me, my father was angry, Dagon was acting weirder than usual, and my classes had taken all my energy. Then there was also the meeting tomorrow. What a freaking day.
Chapter two
Dagon
Ihit the gas pedal and stormed away from the house. My breathing was heavy, and I was holding the wheel in a death grip. Somewhere in the back of my clouded mind, a voice warned me to slow down, since Andras was probably right behind me. But I couldn’t.
I had to get away from there.
Fuck!
I slammed the wheel until pain shot up my arms.
How did I not know? All these years, I called King Hughes my father. I became part of this family, and I didn’t know. He was the man who showed me the genuine meaning behind the word father.
