Cruel King: A Royal Elite Book

by Kent, Rina

  I came here to watch Dan, but I barely gave him any attention. Every time I do, I find myself searching for Levi all over again.

  Guess who the worst best friend award goes to?

  With my sketchpad on my lap, I keep doing lines and trying to capture the moment Levi throws the ball. He has such a magnificent posture. One of his arms flings back, the other forward. One foot on the grass and the other is suspended in the air.

  It’s like he’s about to fly.

  The first half ends with a draw.

  As the players start filtering back inside, I rush down the stairs and catch the Elites on their way to the locker room. The crowd are throwing encouraging remarks their way. Once again, the kings and the other three star players get most of the cheering.

  Dan has his head tucked down. He must be feeling so down on his first game as a starter.

  “You can do it, Danny!” I scream so he can hear me. “You’re the best of the freaking best!”

  Two heads snap in my direction. The first is Dan. He grins from ear to ear and taps his chest then points at me.

  The second is Levi and his expression is the complete opposite of Dan’s. The pale blue of his eyes darkens and he stares between me and Dan then stops. He stops walking inside, stops listening to a player who was talking to him.

  He just… stops.

  Everyone ceases to exist as his gaze focuses on me and me alone.

  A strange awareness grips me by the gut at the strange, destabilising look in his eyes and his stiff posture. My air turns suffocating as if he were able to suck it all away from this distance.

  The moment ends when another player slams his shoulder into Levi’s. Number Nineteen, Knight. Levi winces, breaking eye contact, and lets his teammate lead him inside.

  I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding and trudge back to my place on the benches.

  My fingers tremble as I gather my sketchpad and stare at Levi’s silhouette. My cheeks heat and my insides feel like a jumbled mess.

  What in the ever living hell was that all about?

  He didn’t touch me, but I can still feel his fingertips all over my skin and somewhere deep inside me.

  I continue sketching as rock music fills the stadium.

  I tell myself that I’m finishing the game only because Dan needs moral support.

  That’s all.

  A chubby girl with cute braids sits beside me before the second half starts. Her eyes spark with something similar to both excitement and fear.

  “Oh, sorry,” she says as if only just noticing me. “Is this seat taken?”

  I smile. “No, help yourself.”

  “Thanks!” She retrieves a bar of chocolate and offers me some. “I’m supposed to not eat these at night. Don’t tell my mum or my nutritionist — or anyone for that matter.”

  I laugh, accepting a small bar. “My lips are sealed.”

  “I’m Kimberly. Second-year.” She offers. “You’re Clifford, right?”

  “Just Astrid is fine.”

  “So, Astrid, I’m not used to seeing you at the school games. Do you come often?”

  “This is my first game.”

  “Oh.” She pauses. “Oooh. You have to know what you’re missing out on.”

  Kimberly spends the next ten minutes trying to shove as many football terms into my head as possible.

  “I’m not a big fan either, but I like to come to watch sometimes.” There’s a dreamy tone in her voice. “My best friend is a fanatic fan of the Premier League, but she never comes to the school’s games.”

  “Why not?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “She hates them, I guess.”

  “Here they come!!” Someone screams from behind us. “Go, Elites!”

  Like in the first half, the music comes to a halt and everyone stands up. Kimberly and I follow.

  As the second half begins, I can’t help noticing that there’s something different about Levi. While Aiden and the others play relaxed, he’s tense. His shoulders are tight and his instructions are more curt than in the first half.

  “I wonder what’s the captain’s beef,” Kimberly says.

  So I’m not the only one who notices it.

  “He doesn’t usually play like that, right?”

  She shakes her head. “He’s always cool and confident. He’s the captain after all.”

  “So he’s like a good player?”

  “Good?” She laughs. “Try perfect. He’s the best player we have and the top centre midfielder in the schools’ championship. We’re talking Premier League level here.”

  We’re interrupted by the crowd’s cheers because of a triple play from Cole to Xander and then back to Cole and straight to Aiden. He scores.

  A roar grips the crowd and everyone screams — Kimberly included. All the other players attack Aiden, tackling him to the ground and ruffling his hair.

  All except for Levi.

  He only high-fives his cousin and returns to the starting point at the middle of the pitch.

  It’s then I notice the defect in his posture. His left shoulder is slightly drooping downwards.

  My eyes widen. It’s the same shoulder he slammed into Jerry last night.

  For the remainder of the game, the four ‘horsemen’ take possession of the field. Aiden, Xander, Cole, and Ronan seem comfortable in their own skin and the crowd goes rampant whenever they touch the ball.

  Levi returns to the backlines a lot. According to Kimberly, it’s for defence purposes since they’re only one score ahead.

  “Does Levi play like this sometimes?” I ask Kimberly.

  “Captain? Never.” Although Kimberly is talking about King, her eyes never leave number nineteen, Xander Knight. “He’ll be scouted by the Premier League. This is his worst performance in years.”

  “Wait. He wants to play professionally?”

  She lifts a shoulder. “That’s what I heard. They scouted him since the second year but I guess he wants to finish school first... oh my gosh, yes! Do it!”

  My muscles lock when Levi runs towards the goal with Aiden to his right. The latter raises his hand, but the captain doesn’t pay him attention and forges through.

  With every metre he cuts, my heart beats so loud as if I’m the one running and panting.

  Steady there, heart. We don’t even do running.

  When Levi approaches the danger zone, someone from the other team tackles him. Levi falls to the ground with a thud.

  “Oooh,” the crowd voice their group disappointment.

  My hands turn sweaty as Levi remains on the ground, unmoving.

  My breathing comes out choppy and stuttering as Levi’s teammates gather around him.

  A second passes…

  Two…

  Three…

  Four —

  He stands up, leaning on Aiden, and everyone releases a collected breath.

  I stare with stupefaction as he dusts off his jersey as if nothing happened.

  Besides relief, something morbid and nasty takes refuge inside me. I stand up, grab my backpack and storm out of the stadium. Kimberly waves back when I mumble a ‘bye’.

  My heart thumps so loud as I stomp out and straight into the hallway, heading to the art studio.

  I slam the door shut and lean against it. What the hell was that all about?

  And why am I so bothered about it?

  22

  Levi

  I haven’t decided whether you're my damnation or my salvation.

  * * *

  “This isn’t my captain, King. Get your head out of your arsehole,” Coach whisper-yells so only I can hear on his way out of the locker room.

  The guys cheer as they carry Aiden on their shoulders. They drop him, slapping his back, and ruffling his hair.

  He grins, but it’s fake. He doesn’t really enjoy any of this. He just makes it for appearances’ sake. A defence mechanism of sorts.

  I button my shirt in silence. The familiar, gloomy energy surrounds me like a four-w
alled prison.

  It’s not because of the game or even the bitching pain in my shoulder. It’s because those fucking green eyes that didn’t leave me since last night.

  I might have spent a sleepless night, punching the bag in the gym.

  I might have stopped myself a thousand times from barging into her house in the middle of the night and screw it if her father murders me.

  This obsession is becoming dangerous and fucked up. I’m not the type of person who lets anyone else take over my thoughts, my mind and even my fucking dreams.

  And yet, everything has been revolving around Astrid Clifford.

  As if that wasn’t enough, she had to show up at the game and screw up everything.

  I don’t know what pissed me off more. The fact that she wasn’t there for me or the fact that she was cheering another guy’s name right in front of me.

  Whatever it was, it fucked up my entire game in the second half. And now, unreleased energy keeps buzzing in my veins demanding to be set free.

  I might have to fight tonight. Or drink. Or both.

  A finger taps my shoulder. I’m too caught up in my thoughts that the mere gesture takes me by surprise, and I clench my fists.

  Aiden’s face appears to my right, wearing a frown. "You’re turning speedy, aren’t you?"

  "Piss. Off," I snarl in his face.

  He doesn’t even flinch at my open show of hostility. “This isn’t even about the game, isn’t it?”

  “No, Cousin, it’s not about the game. It’s never about the game. It’s all about my screwed up genes, remember?"

  He’s silent for a few seconds. That’s Aiden. Everything needs to be plotted to a T — including his damn thoughts. “If the chessboard doesn’t look in your favour, you’re the only one who can change its direction."

  "Yo, me Kings!" Ronan interrupts us in a mock accent, flinging an arm around Aiden’s shoulder and the other around mine. “Party at my place. No objections. Deal? Deal.”

  He drags us both to the centre and announces. “Victory party at the one and only Number thirteen’s! Captain approved!”

  The guys hoot and carry Ronan on their shoulders.

  “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t throw any more parties for us?” Xan taunts.

  “Shut it, Knight.” Ronan throws him and Cole a dirty look. “This is my compensation for not having the cake bunny hookers.”

  I should probably stop them since they need recuperation, but I’m in no mood to ruin their fun on the weekend.

  Besides, I need to get myself out of this trance or drink myself to fucking sleep.

  “Can we invite people?” Daniel asks from the corner.

  “Mais oui ! The more the merrier, mon ami.”

  Daniel grins and retrieves his phone. My eyes narrow on his hands. Is he texting Astrid?

  My blood pumps harder at the thought. I don’t like it.

  I don’t fucking like it.

  I remove myself from underneath Ronan’s arm and stride to Daniel.

  “Was that Astrid at the game?” I ask in a nonchalant tone.

  As if I could ever mistake that tomboyish attitude, her soft voice, or those damn sparkling green eyes.

  “Uh, yeah, Captain. She promised to be present for my first game.”

  And be a fucking cheerleader, apparently.

  “Are you inviting her to the party?” I ask.

  “I sent her a text, but she won’t come. She hates these things.”

  I don’t know if I should feel relieved or pissed off or both.

  * * *

  One hour later, half of the team are shagging in Ronan’s guest rooms. He made sure to lock his parents’ room. It’s off-limits since he found Cole or Aiden and their ‘kinky shit’ in it.

  The only ones who remain with me in the pool house are Aiden and Cole and they’re playing chess. I played a game or two but I quickly got bored.

  I had a drink and that turned too boring too fast, too.

  Everything is.

  I want to get out there and down one more shot or two and fucking fight someone. Not only is Aiden keeping me on a leash but I know exactly where that behaviour will lead me.

  Another lifetime as Jonathan’s slave.

  So I just stay around ready to stop any trouble that breaks out amongst the team members.

  A girl, Nicole something, has been hanging off my arm since the beginning of the evening. She’s wearing my number and staring up at me with big wide eyes.

  I want it to be a different face with my number on her back. Different person. Different fucking eyes.

  “On your knees,” I order her.

  “I’m not a whore.” Her lips part but even those are the wrong fucking lips.

  “On your knees or get the fuck out of here.”

  Her gaze strays to Aiden and Cole who sit on the opposite side right across from us. They’re too engrossed in their game to pay her the slightest attention.

  Nicole who I think is Chloe’s friend drops to her knees between my legs, licking her lips and pretending to be shy. It’s so different from how heat crept up Astrid’s neck and face. How she genuinely blushed and melted in my arms.

  She has a way of getting under my skin and refusing to come out.

  I stuff my finger in Nicole’s mouth, opening it wide. She sucks but I tsk. “Stay still.”

  This Nicole does nothing to me. I can’t even get it up for her.

  I try to imagine it’s the princess sitting right here at my mercy, blushing. Like a shot of ecstasy, my dick hardens. Those eyes. Those damn fucking eyes are staring up at me like they’re about to spark.

  Nicole’s hands snake to my trousers’ belt as her other one caresses my bulge. It’s not her touch that hardens me, it’s the image of Astrid being a good little princess. Her small hands grasp me, caress me, about to suck me off while staring up at me with those —

  “Wow, you’re so big.”

  Aaaand Nicole had to ruin it by the screechy voice that's nothing like Astrid’s.

  What the fuck was I thinking anyway? This isn’t her and it never will be.

  When I thrust in her throat, I want it to be Astrid. It has to be her.

  I clutch Nicole’s shoulders, about to push her away when a small gasp reaches me from the entrance.

  I feel her presence before I lift my head and see her. She’s still in that denim skirt from earlier with a white top.

  Fucking hell. She’s as beautiful as a forbidden fantasy.

  Astrid’s gaze flies from me to Nicole who turns her head to state at the newcomer. Her lips part farther before she shakes her head and stares from Nicole to me again.

  She doesn’t meet my gaze as she blurts. “I… um… thought Dan was here. Sorry to interrupt.”

  The door shuts behind her quietly and Nicole laughs in that screechy, annoying way.

  That’s when I realise what Astrid just saw.

  Fuck.

  I was so caught up in seeing her here that I forgot the state she saw me in.

  “Why the fuck are you laughing?” I snap at Nicole.

  “The little Viking learnt her place both at home and here.”

  "At home?"

  “She’s my stepsister but not for long, though.” Her hand returns to my trousers. “Now, where were we?”

  I shove her away until she falls backwards, barely catching her balance.

  “But—” she screeches.

  “Go swallow someplace else."

  I don’t wait for her to disappear and stride past her to the exit.

  Something tells me I really fucked up this time.

  23

  Astrid

  My demons aren’t yours to fight.

  * * *

  I will not cry.

  I will not cry.

  I take a deep breath, fighting the moisture in my eyes and the pressure building behind my nose.

  I’m not that girl. I’ll never be that girl.

  The crowd seems to thicken the harder I try to push myself ou
t of the maze.

  So what if Dan insisted I celebrate his first win as part of the team?

  So what if I didn’t want to go back home for Dad to force me into a dinner with Victoria?

  Coming here was a big freaking mistake.

  Or maybe it wasn’t.

  Maybe I had to see Nicole between Levi’s legs to finally snap out of whatever madness that’s taken over me.

  Still, my chest aches so much, it’s a struggle to breathe.

  Why the hell does it hurt this much?

  “Here’s my girl!” Dan enclasps me in a hug out of nowhere, reeking of alcohol. “Ro, Xan, did I introduce you to my BFF?”

  “Why, hello there.” Ronan — number thirteen — grins with sparkling brown eyes. “Why have you been keeping such a good-looking lady to yourself, Danny boy?”

  “Yeah, Danny. Sharing is caring,” Xander grins and it’s too sickeningly charming. He has classic pretty boy looks, blond hair, blue eyes all complete with dimples.

  “I’m Ronan.” He takes my hand in his and places a kiss on the top. “Don’t believe everything you hear about me.”

  “It’s usually much worse,” Xander finishes for him.”

  “Now, hands-off, Astrid, you pigs.” Dan swats them away as if they’re flies. “She doesn’t like sex.”

  I jab him, an involuntary blush creeping along my skin as I mutter, “Thanks for broadcasting that, bug.”

  I should probably take him away before he spills all my secrets. Dan is a chatterbox when he’s drunk.

  “Wow, okay.” Ronan fakes a gasp. “We need to fix that. I volunteer, mademoiselle.”

  Xander pushes him out of the way. “I’m a month older than you and therefore, can go first.” He smiles. “If the lady would have me, of course.”

  “My house. My rules.” Ronan puffs his chest then looks at me. “Why don’t you choose?”

  I’m speechless, not knowing what to say to that.

  “How about a drink instead?” Dan shouts.

  “Hey, I’m a drinking king.” Ronan pats his chest. “No one can beat me.”

  “Astrid can.” Dan massages my shoulders. “She has a weird high alcohol tolerance.”