I drop onto my mattress, plugging my earphones into the old MP3 player I stole from one of my mom’s nightly visitors, slip my pocket knife into the waist of my sweats, and crank the music up as loud as it will go. I turn on my flashlight and set it beside my head and I lie there, staring at the door, hearing no sound but the angry cries of Halsey as she sings to me about the demons that are fighting their way out. Hours pass before my eyes give up on me and force themselves closed.

She was right. They’re angry. All of them.

So far, every person I’ve passed has met me with a glare, one they got right back from my end. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m fresh for their critical little eyes or how my shoes have holes like my jeans and theirs are crisp as fuck with no fading, but I got a feeling it’s a bit more than that since they’re used to poor kids coming in and out of their school from the Bray houses.

Either way, there’s a difference between nasty and needy and these clowns are needy as fuck. They need everyone to know where they stand as far as the new trash in class goes.

And it’s cool. I’m used to the judgment, it makes my role a lot easier. It’s when you try to change people’s minds that things get tricky.

“Raven Carver,” the teacher announces as she shushes me toward the back of the class and that’s that.

Several hours and a few more non-stimulating classes pass before lunch rolls around.

I’m not much of an eater when munchies or sugar isn’t involved so I pass on the free lunch options, grabbing an apple off the cart without being seen and drop down at the nearest empty table. I’ve only started to people watch when I’m jolted and my ass slams to the floor.

Laughter echoes around and rage has my vision blurring. I grind my teeth together to help regain focus.

Fucking karma.

I’m quick to my feet, spinning to glare at the girl who brazenly stands tall.

I’ve seen her around, noticed the way the girls gawk in envy while the guys drool in interest. She’s the ‘it girl,’ the one with the harem behind her. Pretty brown hair and a prettier face. Tiny clothes and a fancy bag. Physically speaking, she’s top shelf.

“You better watch yourself, trash. Mess with one of us again and see what happens.” She looks left and my gaze follows, finding the girl who bumped into me yesterday hiding a few feet back, mixed in with the rest of her minions.

We’ve got the attention of the entire room now, and unlike they did with the guys where they were channeling their inner mutes, this time they openly stare and talk shit in the background.

Seems she doesn’t warrant the same level of respect as they do, but she knows what she’s doing. Get me on my ass for all the circles to see, deliver a drop the mic performance. This is her open and intended show of power.

No.

A slight chuckle escapes and then I’m shoving her against the wall before she has time to squeal, my forearm pressing into her neck.

I step closer, throwing her words right back. “Mess with me again ... and see what happens. I don’t play poker, princess, I lay it all out upfront. You’ve got a problem? Put it on the table or find another to play your little game.”

“Touch me and Mad—”

A whistle sounds and all the commotion stops instantly. Literally, not a single fucking sound heard in the second that follows, none but the slight screech of leather against freshly polished flooring. It’s easy to pan multiple bodies growing closer with each step, and then they’re stopping right behind me.

The empress begins squirming against my hold, pretending she hadn’t already given up against my grip. I push tighter and her eyes squeeze shut.

“Let her go.”

“I don’t think I will,” I respond, half looking over my shoulder.

Instantly, a male presence surrounds me and my muscles lock.

He’s close. So close his hot breath creates a sheath of sweat at the base of my neck, tension growing in the pit of my stomach from the guy’s nearness.

I attempt to shift away, but he only presses harder, his entire chest now flush to my back.

I battle to keep my breathing steady, force my body still, but he doesn’t let up like I expected, like I had hoped, and survival mode starts to kick in. I’m seconds away from losing my shit and causing real problems for myself – or them, whatever.

The bitch in front of me smirks, thinking she’s somehow won since the king’s come to the rescue.

Doesn’t she know how kings work?

A rescue means a price, a price turns into a favor, a favor becomes your moment of shame.

Shame is what ruins you.

But if he’s the king coming to her rescue ... maybe she’s his queen.

A large hand slides past my face to grip my wrist lodged against her throat, and with little to no effort, he pulls me from the girl, spinning me around to take her place as she falls to the side, coughing.

He does let her ass hit the floor so her pedestal must not be too high.

I fight to keep my eyes glued to the solid chest in front of me, but the pull is too strong and my stare is forced to his. I inhale deeply as I take in the sight. With him right in front of me, I can’t help but appreciate the view.

Sexy. Straight up, no denying.

Dark hair with darker eyebrows and caramel colored skin. Strong and solid, with eyes like ancient jade and the sharp edges of a monarch, he’s damn near close to rugged perfection.

He glares.

Of course, it adds to the sex appeal, because why wouldn’t it.

I’d roll my eyes at myself if I didn’t think it would give my thoughts away.

“I’m diggin’ this no glasses thing,” I tease. “You should ditch ‘em more often.”

He’s not amused, and those full lips of his part to speak. “You better learn quick what’s allowed here or you’ll be begging for a transfer before we’re done.”

“Not my style.” I keep my eyes steady. “If I want it, I take it. If I want it ... consider it mine.”

Somehow, his frown seems to intensify as he crowds my space more, his giant ass body dwarfing mine. “This is our school, Snow. Our town. You’ll pay for the little stunt you pulled with Royce’s ride. And you’ll learn. Around here?” One strong brow jacks up. “We make the rules and you follow ... like a good little girl,” he whispers all dirty like.

It’s sexy, I’ll give him that but he’s patronizing me, the shithead. Even still as he pointedly drops an impassive gaze to my chest, my tight black tank doing nothing to hide the rack my mother cursed me with.

I remember she was so proud when I finally “grew a pair,” said no man could resist a build like mine. Sick bitch.

‘Course they became a problem when her men suddenly wanted her daughter more.

The vein in his jaw ticks and I snap back.

“I hear you, big man,” I whisper and his porcelain eyes glide back to mine in slow motion. “You’re strong, I’m weak. You’re the king, and I’m the peasant. Anything else?”

His muscles flex against me, his pupils dilating, and silly me, it’s enticing.

I almost want to push him further.

“Yo, Maddoc,” his handsy friend calls. “Perkins is on his way.”

“Maddoc” as he was called, purposely waits until the principal steps around the corner before moving back.