A King's Weakness (Book 1)

Chapter 1

THE ANIMALISTIC SOUNDS OF BLOODTHIRSTY TEENAGERS roar loudly in my ears, harmonizing with the pounding of my pulse. Cheers, gasps, bated breath—it's music in my veins.

Her fist slams into the side of my face, pain blossoming along my cheekbone, iron blooming on my tongue. The hot salt of my blood makes me smile, and I feel the feral grin come to life on my face. I know my teeth must be stained red, making my expression gruesome.

The girl who punched me blanches when she sees my face, all her confidence suddenly deserting her. I think this is the exact moment when she realizes that she's bitten off more than she can chew. She is out of her league, utterly and completely fucked.

Admittedly, I picked this fight. I knew she was a bitch, and that she needed to be taken down a few notches. It was far too easy; all I had to do was bump into her with my shoulder and feign annoyance.

My blood sang as soon as she grabbed me by my shirt and me against the lockers, immediately drawing a crowd of my classmates. When she drew back her fist, preparing to hit me, I didn't flinch, didn't try to block it. In the eyes of the law, I became the victim as soon as her fist connected with my face.

The pain unleashes me, the tenuous cord on my anger snapping, and I thrust my right arm down to break her hold on my shirt. In the same instant, I lash out at her nose with my left fist. She doesn't even have time to blink.

Bone crunches beneath the force of my blow, and when I pull my hand back, crimson stains the skin of my fingers. I would bet money that I've broken her nose.

I don't even bother to look ashamed.

She curses at me, swearing furiously as she tries to blink away tears of pain in order to see me properly. Lashing out blindly, her hand slams into the locker beside my head, missing me altogether.

I have two options now: I can end the fight and slink away before getting caught, or continue to brawl and possibly get the cops called. It only takes a split second for me to decide that I've embarrassed her enough.

She has drawn back from me in an effort to staunch the blood flowing freely from her misshapen nose—really, it wasn't very pretty to begin with—which has left just enough room for me to land a kick on her stomach, pushing her away until she falls into our classmates, hitting the floor with her ass.

I haven't even broken a sweat.

Her fall has provided the perfect distraction for me to make my escape, and I do just that, pushing my way through the crowd of students all craning their necks to get a good look at the resident bitch bleeding.

Teachers are finally making an appearance, hastily shoving teenagers aside to get to the center of the human fighting ring. None of them even notice me as I slink past them, a secret smile on my face.

*   *   *   *

"It's going to bruise," Kage declares, releasing my chin from his grip. Although my cheekbone is throbbing slightly, I know the purplish hue looks more painful against the porcelain of my skin than it actually is.

I shrug, hopping down from my perch on the kitchen table. "Good. I couldn't exactly walk away unscathed. It would be suspicious."

My uncles looses an impatient sigh, attempting to hide the smirk that is clearly written all over his face. I can feel his satisfied approval even with my back to him.

I obeyed all the rules, followed them to the letter. Always let the other person strike first so that you can claim self defense; leave before you draw too much attention; don't pick a fight you aren't sure you can win. Most importantly: don't lose—ever.

Behind me, the fridge opens, then the hiss of a bottle being opened.

"You're lucky we're leaving tomorrow, Cal." He pauses to take a sip of his beer—another good indicator that he's not actually upset with me. He never drinks when he's mad, he claims it ruins a perfectly good buzz. "I'm beginning to think you inherited the King knack for creating all kinds of shit storms." He isn't talking about my mom, that's for sure.

I've only ever seen my mother's face in a handful of old photos Kage keeps in his wallet, but he never fails to tell me stories of his talent for stirring up trouble—and my mom's exasperated disapproval.

She died in a car accident when I was only a few months old, leaving me with her younger brother, Kage. My uncle is the only family I have ever known, and even though he's young—and frequently idiotic—he has been more of a father to me than my deadbeat biological dad has ever been. While Kage occasionally tells me stories about my mom, he never discusses my father, and that's fine by me.

Turning around to face my uncle, I give him a harmless glare, crossing my arms over my chest. I know our routine all too well by now. Kage is a restless wanderer, always itching to go somewhere new, to see everything the world has to offer. I can't remember the last time we've lived in the same city for more than six months. I used to hate it, the constant state of starting over, but now it's as familiar to me as my own reflection. And Kage's face, which is staring at me.

He is comically disheveled, as per usual, with rumpled clothes and light pink marks marring the skin of his neck—love bites from his latest in a series of female conquests. Hazel eyes sparkle at me from beneath a mop of shaggy black hair, and he grins at me, playfully waggling his eyebrows when he senses me examining him.

"Looks like someone had a fun night," I tease, stepping closer. I pull at the stretched out white collar of his shirt to examine the faint hickeys, wrinkling my nose. "Saying goodbye to your admirers?"

Kage swats my hand away, but the shit-eating grin on his face says it all. "I'd take my battle scars over yours any day."

Our unspoken agreement has been the same for many years: if one of us going to raise hell, we'd better save it for the last few days before we move somewhere new. For Kage, his weakness is women who want to ruin his life and booze. For me, it's my blatant lack of respect for the social hierarchy at school.

After being dropped in the sea of new student bodies in the middle of the semester on multiple occasions, I've found the fun in making a new me at each school. I've been everything from quiet and shy, staying under the radar, to the life of each and every party. If someone were to go to every city Kage and I have ever lived in, they'd find a dozen different versions of Calla King. And now that our four months here are up, I can't help but wonder who I'll be when I walk into my new school on Monday.