A King's Weakness (Book 1)

Chapter 18

THE ONLY PROBLEM WITH MY LITTLE TEMPER TANTRUM IS THAT I now have to find another ride home. Jade is unlikely to be willing to drive me, what with the verbal spanking I just gave to her alpha and all.

I need a minute to think, to calm that raging fire in my belly.

I grab a bottle of tequila from a dude passed out on the couch as I walk by him—I tend to do my best thinking when I'm thoroughly trashed.

After fighting my way through a crowd of sweaty football players, I reach the backyard, savoring the cool night air as it erases the smell of illegally purchased cigarettes and cheap booze. By some miracle, the yard is empty, except for a few couples copping a feel.

My hand shakes as I raise the bottle to my lips, and I frown at the sight.

How did I get here? Not here physically, but more...existentially. Everything in my life has gone straight to hell in a goddamned hand basket.

I have no idea how I controlled the magic back there. The ice wasn't really under my control at all, it was more of a manifestation of my anger, but the exploding cups performance was definitely all me. I wanted it to happen, and it just...did.

Even with that outlet for my temper, I'm still trembling with rage. I would pay good money to have the opportunity to smash Lyra's face in.

"Cheating bitch," I mutter to myself, taking another swig of that god awful tequila. It seems to be doing its job, though, and the dull roar in my veins quiets slightly, becoming sluggish and subdued.

My options aren't great right now. I can call Kage and ask him to pick me up, which means I would have to formulate another lie about why I need rescuing. I could walk back home, though I'm not entirely sure how long that would take. I could even go so far as to beg a random person for a ride, and just pray that they aren't as drunk as I'm sure I will be soon.

I have to make a decision fast; the world around me is becoming fuzzy, my tongue thick in my mouth.

The hair on the back of my neck chooses that exact moment to stand straight up, my skin pricking with the weight of a stranger's gaze. My eyes dart from shadow to shadow, inspecting the mostly empty yard around me. The couples still seem to be tangled up in each other, making noises that sound suspiciously like ill-concealed moans.

Just as I decide that I'm really, truly losing my mind, I see him.

He has chosen his spot carefully, the black of his jeans and fitted shirt blending in seamlessly with the darkness around him. The shadows engulf him, hiding him just enough that without my new supernatural eyesight, I wouldn't have spotted him. His hair is an even darker black than mine, cut close to his head in an effortless style. Even from this distance, I can see the vibrancy of his eyes—a breathtaking green with a ring of hazel around the pupil.

And to add insult to injury, the really top it all off, he is gorgeous. Heartbreakingly, kick-you-in-the-teeth beautiful. The bone structure of a damn angel, with the sun-kissed skin to match.

Every nerve ending in my body seems to stand at attention, focusing wholly on him, the delicious smirk on his lips when he realizes I'm staring. Every inch of him is tinged with cruelty. His hands, clenched into fists. His eyes, cold as the ice that erupted from me earlier.

My traitorous heart thuds loudly in my chest, nearly bursting from my ribcage in an effort to land at his feet like some sick offering.

I am utterly speechless.

"There you are!" Ryder growls, grabbing my upper arm like I'm a piece of furniture.

Oh, I have really pissed him off. Serves him right, though—he didn't say anything when Lyra broke the unspoken agreement that he and I would be partners.