“Not really,” she says, still not looking at them.
“Yeah. We live in Birmingham,” I say.
“No,” Ronan clutches his heart dramatically, closing in on her. “I might die if I don’t see you again.”
“Then die.” Teal turns around and heads in Knox’s direction without a glance back.
“Hashtag, burn.” Xander clutches Ronan by the shoulder.
“Someone actually turned you down.” Cole raises an eyebrow. “I’m impressed.”
“Fuck off, both of you.” Ronan’s face is unreadable for a second before he grins at me again. “Where were we? Right. When are you coming back, Ellie? I need my dose of you like I need weed.”
“Did you just compare me to weed?”
“Hey! Weed is cool. It relaxes you and makes you happy.”
“Well,” Xander laughs. “Ronan and weed share an endless love story, so comparing you to it is kind of a compliment.”
“Exactement!” Ronan clasps Xander’s shoulder in a bro hug. “So Ellie, when are you coming back to be my happy place?”
I’m about to tell him I don’t know if I’ll ever come back when the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
A flush covers my skin from my cheeks all the way down my chest underneath my clothes. Something familiar races down my spine no matter how much I try to suffocate it.
No, no.
Please, please.
It’s useless to beg when the disaster hits you straight in the face. It doesn’t delay the inevitable and surely doesn’t erase it.
He’s here.
I feel it over my skin, and straight into my insides. As I slowly turn around, I hold on to my delusional bubble, my safe space.
I should’ve known better. There’s no safe place from monsters.
The darkness is their playground, and the world is their theatre. If they choose to, they’ll drag you into the shadows and it’ll be all over.
I thought the worst monsters were the ones from my childhood. Turns out, my worst monster had the most hypnotic metallic eyes and the inkiest black hair. He has a penetrating gaze that dissects me and sees straight into the darkest depths of my soul.
My monster is all tall, powerful, and beautiful.
My monster is Aiden King.
9
Elsa
Considering all the tiny bursts of panic I experienced tonight, I should’ve been ready for Aiden’s appearance.
I’m not.
Not really.
Not at all.
I fist both sides of my dress just to have something to twist.
Jonathan saunters inside with his infuriating confidence on display as if he owns the place and everyone in it. He looks down his arrogant nose at everyone in his vicinity.
Aiden and Levi stride on either side of him like generals waltzing into a war zone. Astrid hangs onto Levi’s arm seeming more uncomfortable than I am currently feeling.
The three King men are wearing sharp black tuxedos that flatter their developed physiques. My attention bounces back to Aiden. I try to fight it, you know.
I try to look at Astrid’s beautiful dress, at Levi’s easy grin, or even at Jonathan treating everyone as peasants.
I can’t.
Something pulls at my strings and leads me straight back to Aiden.
I hate that something. I loathe it from the bottom of my defective heart.
Said defective heart flutters, and I squash it while I focus on Aiden. On the way he strides with confident ease. On his slicked, stylish hair. On the cloth that tightens around his biceps and his muscular, tall thighs.
He put on an effort tonight. He wants to be as presentable as possible — and lethally attractive. He’s using his appearance to help his manipulations.
The moment his eyes meet mine, I freeze. It’s like those grey clouds have entered the hall and will now transform into a storm, wreaking havoc in its wake.
Or perhaps, that storm is only meant for me.
I keep sucking air, but I’m not breathing properly. I’m not breathing at all.
Silver is the queen to the King’s name.
That reminder hits me like a jab to the ribs. My temper flares and all the blocking I’ve managed thus far threatens to smash to pieces.
I break eye contact with effort and face the guys. “I have to find Teal.”
Ronan protests, but I lift my dress and walk in the opposite direction.
No idea where Teal went, but if I can find her and Knox, I won’t have to face Aiden and his bitchy fiancée who must’ve come with him.
A whirlwind of bitterness grips me out of nowhere. My hands itch, and I curse myself for not bringing hand sanitiser.
The breathing shortage from earlier swings back with a vengeance. I nearly topple over from the force of it.
Air.
I need air.
Stumbling, I find a patio door open and I slip outside.
The music from the banquet dies down a little as the fresh air hits my face. Goosebumps cover my bare arms, but I don’t wrap my arms around myself. That’s for weak people.
Running away is also for the weak.
My teeth sink into my bottom lip. The wound is still fresh. I’m sure with time, I won’t run away. There will be a day when I’ll see Aiden and walk right past him without sparing him a glance.
I hope so.
I really hope so.
Pain is temporary. Pain dulls over time.
However, I doubt there’ll be a day when I think about him and don’t feel ache, but I’m sure it won’t be this sharp or damning.
You’re strong, Elsa. You’re a Steel.
As Dad used to say, ‘no one fucks with a Steel and lives to talk about it.’
Taking a deep breath, I whirl around. I’ll go back inside and pretend he doesn’t exist.
I falter, my heels catching on the floor. Aiden stands in front of me like a grim reaper.
No, not a grim reaper. A monster.
My monster.
He doesn’t make a noise as he steps outside, purposefully invading my space and my air.
But that’s what Aiden does, isn’t it? He pushes you into a corner, and soon enough, you’ll realise there’s no way out.
He’s more intimidating and handsome than anyone should be. He has his father’s arrogant nose and the aura of a God amongst humans. Or rather, a king amongst peasants.
“Did you think you could run away from me, sweetheart?”
His voice is still the same, rough, deep, and sinister. No idea why I thought his voice would change in the span of a week.
My repressed anger catches on fire and boils through my veins. Profanities fight and claw to be set free like a hurricane brewing in the distance.
However, I remain silent.
Aiden is the type of deviant who feeds on hysterics. The best way to win against him is to reverse his own tactics, disrupt his thought process, and keep him in the dark.
Due to his lack of empathy, he has a knack for reading people. He relies so much on intuition and logic; they’re his greatest assets. It’s almost impossible to shuffle his formation or make a move he didn’t already anticipate.
However, I have one advantage.
I know him so well that I’m able to look him in the eye and seal all my emotions inside.
If he’s searching for a fit of anger, he won’t be getting any.