Bow Down To Your King

Chapter 29

JULIA POV

Point Total: 8,325

Zeke grabbed me, roughly, as if he hadn't just seen me the night before and gotten his fill of my company.

Why isn't he sick of this by now?

It worked in my favor that he wasn't, but usually, men were tired by the second, sexless date.

Dorian certainly worked him into a fit, which is a skill you can't teach your evil accomplices, it's innate—and appreciated.

I knew there was history between them, but I hadn't had the opportunity to ask what happened, especially not while pegging the 'prince' of the university.

I barely had the time to shower, throw on my uniform, and stage a few walk-of-shame photos with Dorian's coat. Katie made sure they were sent to the biggest gossips on campus from a burner phone (because apparently, she's a spy).

We expected Zeke's ire, but not for him to barrel down the hallway, demanding my attention.

That was a surprise, as was his tongue in my mouth moments later, attempting to make me forget a man I wasn't even in love with.

"You're mine," he said, finally surfacing for air.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, "That's pretty archaic."

But a cute attempt at laying claim to me.

Zeke groaned, pressing against me, showing just how much he wanted the fantasy of us to be true. "Don't go out with Dorian."

Persuasive.

I kissed Zeke, biting his lip, drawing him back in before saying, "But I like him."

He frowned at me, utterly unamused by my stubbornness.

"If you want to be with him, fine."

"I didn't say that." I mocked the hurt, angry tone of his voice, smirking at the way his eyes narrowed.

"What do you want then?"

I shrugged, "He's nice."

"Nice?"

"Yes." I stifled a laugh, "We have good conversations."

Zeke stared at me. "We could talk."

"About what, Zeke? The games?"

His face fell, "If you want to."

I scoffed.

"I'm serious."

"Sure, you are."

I waited for another stupid attempt at getting into my skirt, but it never came. Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on mine.

"I'm not competing in the games this year."

This time I laughed. "You expect me to believe that?"

"No, but that doesn't mean it's not true."

"You're competing," I said. It wasn't a question, it was a cold, hard fuck-you fact.

"I won't."

I knew what he was saying, that he'd retire for me, so long as I fell for his act, like a pretty little fool.

"You have to."

"Why?"

Because you have to lose—to kneel, to me. Not forfeit.

"It's a big deal, isn't it?" I asked.

"For some people."

"Why give up then?"