Playboy Princes: Royals of Arbon Academy

by Eve, Jaymin

  "Wow," I murmured, my eyes locked onto Jordan as he paced the field. His anger and agitation were clear as he rolled his shoulders and scowled at anyone within twenty feet of him. "So, then what happened?" Illegitimate children weren't the shameful thing they had been in the Middle Ages when religion ruled kingdoms. Now they were often a necessity to continue family lines. Or at least, they were for commoners. We didn't enter into genetically matched engagements as children.

  "King Munroe disowned Zach and all but exiled his mom. She raised him on her family estate in Alberta." She was squirming uncomfortably in her seat with all of this information, and my instincts told me there was more to the story.

  I frowned, keeping my eyes on Jordan again. He looked so pissed off...

  "So why the bad blood between them? What happened?"

  Mattie blew out a long breath, hunching her shoulders. "Well, for one thing, Zach and Jordan have had their mothers poisoning them against each other their entire lives. Every time they’re in the same place together—which happens a lot in royal circles—they end up in a fight over something stupid."

  I shifted my gaze back to her, narrowing my eyes. "And the other reason?"

  "The other reason?" She cringed. "Is that Zach’s my fiancé."

  I swear, my jaw just about hit the fucking floor.

  "I'm going to need you to repeat that."

  She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh come on. You know we all get sold off at like age six.” She faked a gag.

  "Yeah, I know. I just thought you'd have mentioned this before now. Damn, Mattie, way to be a shitty friend." I was teasing, and she knew it.

  "Shut up," she grumbled, jabbing me in the side with her elbow. "Anyway. It's caused no end of drama whenever we have interactions with Zach. He's a bit of a douchebag, to be honest, and slutty as all hell. Jordan and the guys kinda hate that he's my future."

  I nodded, understanding where they were coming from. "But you were just staring at him like you wanted to lick him all over."

  Mattie snorted a laugh. "I'm not fucking blind, Vi. If it helps, I totally looked at you like that when we first met, too."

  I laughed before my humor faded away at another thought. “It’s kinda odd that you’d be matched to someone who is exiled though, right? I mean, you’re a princess and he’s pretty much nothing.” Her laughter died off, too, her brow furrowing.

  “Is this the actual proof we need that it’s all about the future royals?” I pushed. “That they only care about the perfect genetic match for babies and since he has royal blood, he’s eligible?”

  Mattie no longer looked remotely amused. “Yeah. They always joke about royals being genetically superior, but it’s starting to look like they’re actively working to make that happen.”

  I had a flashback to that fucking nurse again when she all but sexually assaulted me during her examination. In truth, I really had no idea what she’d done. I was just assuming she’d told me the truth, and the whole truth at that. I was no doctor and hadn’t exactly checked what she was sticking inside me… it could have been anything.

  The thought of that, the feeling of being violated, had my stomach churning.

  “We need to know more,” I murmured.

  Mattie nodded, but then the announcements started and we focused on the game, relaxing into our seats. Given how high the tensions were between the teams, I'd bet it would be a good one, and I was glad to have the distraction.

  "Thanks for telling me," I said to my friend after a few moments of silence. "But there’s one more thing I'm wondering now..."

  Mattie shot me a sharp look. "What?"

  I bit my lower lip, anxiety churning in my stomach. "Who is Jordan engaged to?"

  As soon as the words left my lips, I wanted to take them back. I already knew Rafe's betrothed and knew she posed zero threat to me. Not that I cared. It wasn't like I actually wanted to date Rafe or anything crazy like that, but we had fucked.

  Jordan, though? I could actually see myself with him... going out for dinners or movies or just, I don't know, hanging out. Intimately.

  Mattie shook her head. "I don't know."

  Well, that wasn't what I’d expected.

  "What do you mean, you don’t know? Jordan's a crown prince; he's engaged to someone isn't he?" I frowned at her now, uncertain if she was lying to spare my feelings or something. But seriously, who could be that awful? Claudette was already taken—by Rafe—and no one else was remotely as horrible as her.

  She nodded. "Definitely. But he's never told us who, and no girls at Arbon have laid claim, so..." She shrugged. "Noles and I think it might be a younger girl, and Jordan's respecting her by not publicizing their engagement until she's eighteen."

  I sighed. That rang true to his personality. Damn him for being so... decent.

  Chapter 9

  The Arbon Royals won the match, but fuck it was close. There were no fights on the field, but it was one of the most intense, aggressive matches I’d seen in a long time. That included sports that were not soccer. “Wow, that bad blood wasn’t at all obvious out on the field,” I said somewhat sarcastically. “They kept it well locked down.”

  Mattie snorted. “I’m just grateful no one got punched.”

  “Not yet,” I murmured. “Luckily the dressing rooms for the two teams are on opposite sides of that long hall, so they won’t end up throwing down while half-naked.”

  Mattie smiled wistfully. “But… is that really lucky? For those of us who might sneak in to see it?”

  Now that she mentioned it…

  Everyone was exiting the stadium, and we stood to do the same.

  “Hey, ladies!” Drake, the crown royal of Denmark, waved as he strolled past, down near the field. “Party at mine tonight. Eight on the dot. Don’t be fucking late.”

  Then he was gone again, lost in the crowd.

  I shuddered at the thought. Drake was Alex’s closest friend, and I knew there would be no avoiding that fucking fuck if I went to the party. At the same time, if I didn’t go, Alex would probably hunt me down. I knew my time of avoiding him was coming to an end, and I had to figure out my next move.

  “We’re not going,” Mattie said bluntly, reading whatever expression had crossed my face. “And you won’t be alone in your room so Alex can come at you either. That’s not how this game works.”

  I snorted, pushing past a group of chicks who had to stop in the middle of the path to screech and hug each other. Even though they no doubt had seen their friends at breakfast this morning. “Alex is not going to let me avoid him any longer. I sense that this week he was giving me breathing room to come to terms with our arrangement. But you saw him on the field. He spent more time with his eyes on me than on the ball.”

  Something that had contributed to our team’s near loss. Alex had been basically useless out there. And that fucking grin… it’d been locked on me, making my skin crawl and my stomach churn. He was planning something.

  My palm reader buzzed.

  Alex: Be at Drake’s party. There’s nowhere to run, little lamb.

  Mattie tilted her head, peering at the message. “That asshole,” she snarled. In about five seconds she was on her palm reader dialing someone. When they answered, she immediately started snapping out commands. I couldn’t tell what those commands were—they weren’t in English—but I could tell she was super pissed.

  Figuring she’d tell me when she was finished, I went back to the message.

  Me: I think you’re forgetting who’s the lamb and who’s the wolf.

  I sent it before I could think about the repercussions. I wasn’t exactly scared of Alex, but I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that he made me uneasy. I couldn’t tell what he was going to do next, unpredictable lunatic that he was.

  Alex: If you’re a wolf, prove it. Come to Drake’s party.

  A derisive snort left me. If he thought I was going to get into a dick-measuring contest with him, he was sadly mistaken. I had nothing to prove to that lying piece
of shit.

  Mattie was finished with her call now, her face slightly pinked for the exertion of all the yelling and probably cursing she had been doing. “Okay, so three things,” she said, leading me toward her room. “First, I’m having someone look into Alex. Let’s find the dirt we need to take him down.” I wondered if that was what her phone call had been about. “Two, we are going to have our own party tonight, and no fucking assholes allowed.” Okay, but that ruled out half this school. Still, it would be a nice way to stick it to Alex and Drake, his sycophant. “And three… we need to look hot. Non-negotiable. End of story.”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. "Well, obviously."

  Mattie grinned at me with a wicked twinkle. "Excellent. I'll accept that as your agreement."

  "As tempting as that is, we don't have anywhere to host a party. Drake lives off campus, remember?" Despite how relevant my point was, Mattie just shrugged it off.

  "Don't underestimate me, girl. Head up to your room and order us some champagne. I'll swing past with makeup and outfits after I sort a few things out." She gave me a joking butt-slap and pushed me in the direction of the dorms. When I narrowed my eyes at her in suspicion, she sighed dramatically. "Just trust me, Vi. I got this."

  As curious as I was about what this might be, I did trust her. So when she gave me a little finger wave and sashayed her way back into the crowd of soccer fans, I just watched her go and shook my head.

  "Huh, she's still alive," some random girl giggled to her friend as they passed me. The way their eyes raked over me left little doubt who "she" was.

  Her friend sneered, not bothering to lower her voice as she replied. "I guess Alex hasn't seen the way Jordan's been sniffing around her this week."

  The first girl snickered again, then turned to give me a pitying look as they continued down the corridor. "I'm sure your funeral will be lovely, Charity."

  I just gave her a bored glare back and muttered an insult under my breath before walking off. I didn’t waste my time on chicks like that. Their entire aim in life was to make themselves feel superior by bringing others down.

  Arbon students mixed with Princeton fans, all flowing down the main arterial corridor toward both the dorms and the main foyer. Not wanting to run into any more concerned girls, I decided to take a longer route back to my room. One that went past the locker rooms, too, so I could check on Jordan.

  Not because I was afraid of what Alex might do—fuck that prick—but because of that scene with Jordan's half brother on the field.

  By the time I reached the locker area, the hall was deserted. A shiver of fear and anticipation zapped through me. The new knowledge that Jasmine had been murdered sat heavy in my gut, and I rubbed at my upper arms in an attempt to chase away the goosebumps that had suddenly appeared.

  Just as I made the mental decision to bypass the locker rooms and carry on to my room without seeing Jordan, the door on the visiting team's side slammed open and a tall guy exited with a sports bag slung over his shoulder.

  "Hey," he greeted me, pausing with one eyebrow cocked. Admittedly, I probably looked a bit strange just standing there in the middle of the empty corridor, lost in my own thoughts. Or rather, frozen in shock. Trust my luck. It wasn't any random Princeton player, it was Mattie's fiancé. Jordan's half brother.

  Zachary.

  "Hi," I replied, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything more.

  He narrowed his eyes at me, and now that I was up close, I could see the familial resemblance. He shared the same coffee-and-cognac colored eyes as Jordan, and their lips curved the same way.

  "Are you looking for someone?" he asked, tilting his head to the side slightly.

  I shook my head. "Nope, just... taking a shortcut."

  The half-truth fell flat, and Zachary Westbridge gave me a small, mocking smile.

  "Sure." The word was deadpanned, and my cheeks heated. "Didn't I see you sitting with my fiancée during the game?"

  This time it was my brows that hitched. "Your fiancée is my best friend, and she's never mentioned you until today. That's got to tell you something, huh?"

  Zachary laughed, which wasn't the reaction I'd expected. "Cute." His attention shifted over my shoulder, and he gave a small nod. "Rafe. Hey man."

  My shoulders stiffened, and I resisted the urge to turn around. I hadn't even heard the door to the Arbon locker room open. Sneaky fuck.

  "Zach." Rafe's deep voice was like ice. "Don't you have somewhere to be? A flight home, perhaps?"

  Mattie's fiancé just grinned, and it was one of those mocking, knowing kind of grins that suggested he knew something we didn't. "Nah, no rush. Your dean kindly offered us lodging for the night. I sure hope someone throws a party while we're here. No one parties like the royal sluts of Arbon Academy, am I right?" His joke was aimed at Rafe, but the sly wink was all for me. Ugh. What a creep.

  Rafe's hand came to rest on my waist, and I braced myself so I didn't jump out of my boots with shock. He was touching me. Voluntarily. In front of someone. And it wasn't to hurt me. Or... I didn't think so.

  "I wouldn't know," Rafe replied, his words underscored with growling anger. "But I'll be sure to let Mattie know you're planning to disrespect her. Again."

  Zach's grin was so wide he was starting to seem unhinged. He raked his gaze over my body, pausing and giving a pointed look at where Rafe's hand still rested on my waist. His thumb had somehow found a strip of exposed skin between my jeans and jacket, and I needed to bite my cheek hard to stop from leaning into that touch.

  "I'll see you around, Rafael," Zach said after a long, tense moment. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Violet." He gave another smirk, then sauntered away down the empty corridor.

  It wasn’t until he was gone from sight that I gasped.

  "What?" Rafe demanded. Neither of us had moved, so he was still standing behind me with his hand on my waist. His thumb stroked ever so lightly across my skin, like a subconscious movement.

  "He just..." I spun around to face Rafe, my brow pulling low in a worried frown. "He used my name."

  Rafe arched a dark brow. "So?" His hand was still on my waist. Now that I was facing him, it seemed... intimate. Yet I wasn't moving away.

  I shook my head. "I never introduced myself. In fact, at first he acted like he had no idea who I was."

  This made Rafe's brow drop into a scowl of his own, but he didn't look shocked. Just annoyed.

  "He's playing games," he informed me. "And they’re overstepping. I'll take care of it."

  Before I could ask him who “they” were, the locked door opened again, and this time I heard it. Still... I didn't move out of Rafe's touch.

  Yep, there was something seriously wrong with my brain.

  "Hey, Vi, what are you doing here?" Jordan asked, shouldering his heavy sports bag and running a hand through his disheveled chestnut hair.

  He really was gorgeous.

  "I came to see you," I told him.

  "Oh." He blinked at me with surprise, then his gaze darted down to where Rafe's hand remained against my body. "How come?"

  Rafe gave my waist a small squeeze, then stepped away, and I felt noticeably colder for the absence of his touch.

  "Mattie told me about..." I trailed off suddenly remembering I wasn’t supposed to mention it. Shit. Thankfully, Jordan didn’t seem upset with me; he just shot a sad smile my way.

  "About my big bad brother? Yeah, I figured that might come out some time today."

  I wrinkled my nose and gave a nod. "Sorry. He seems like a total asshole. Like, worse than Rafe."

  The Swiss heir snorted a laugh, and Jordan smirked.

  "That's a big call," he told me, slinging his arm around my shoulders and walking with me. "Rafe takes being an asshole to whole new levels some days."

  I laughed, but this time Rafe didn’t. Whatever. He knew he was an ass.

  "So what's the plan this afternoon?" Jordan continued on, oblivious or unconcerned with the tension between me and Rafe.


  The doors behind us banged again, and Nolan called out. "Thanks for waiting, dickheads!"

  We paused while he caught up, and he tugged me free of Jordan's arm to hug me himself. "New girl! Did you see all the awesomeness that happened out there? We kicked those Princeton Prick's butts!"

  "Is that what that was?" I teased him. "'Cause it sure looked like you scraped that win by the skin of your teeth. But hey, what would I know?"

  Nolan clutched at his chest, gasping dramatically like I'd stabbed him, while his friends chuckled.

  "Harsh, New Girl. Real harsh. So what were we talking about? Sorting out your complicated love life? How's that all going, anyway? You and Jordy fucking yet?" There you had it, Nolan, Prince of the Guays, Master of Tact and Subtlety.

  "Jesus, Noles," Jordan muttered, giving him a headshake. Meanwhile Rafe just punched him in the shoulder.

  "What?" my red-haired friend asked, all wide-eyed innocence. Shithead. "Okay fine. If you three weren't about to have a DP threesome in the janitor’s closet, what were you talking about? Was it me? Were you discussing how great I look today? It's okay, you can tell me."

  I rolled my eyes, fighting back a laugh. Despite the awkward subject matter—and how hot that suggestion of a threesome made me—Nolan was fucking fun.

  "I was just about to tell the guys how Drake is having a party tonight," I said. "And Alex has demanded I attend as his date."

  "What? No!" Nolan exclaimed.

  "Hell no," Jordan snapped, folding his arms over his chest.

  "Not. Happening." Rafe bit his words off like they were poisoned.

  I sighed. "As cute as this little show of macho caveman bullshit is, have we all forgotten how very capable I am of handling myself?" I arched a brow and leveled each of the three of them with a warning glare. Okay. Just two of them. I was too shaky and turned on to fully meet Rafe's eyes.

  "Besides," I continued. "Mattie has other plans."