Page 11 of Crush

I hop up to join him on the rock, my cloak hanging heavy and damp. Folding my arms across my chest, I scan the rest of these sorry souls. I don’t include her in my survey.

“You’ve been called here to prove your loyalty,” I begin.

A rustling sounds out to my right. I stop mid-speech to watch Aurora clamoring up the rock and take her position beside me. She smiles primly at me before turning to the crowd and mirroring my crossed arms.

Jesus fuck, I’m frowning so hard, my lips should be too heavy to stay on my face by now.

I turn back to the pale faces, obscured by dirty, salty robes. “To keep your position in the Nobles and Virtues and prove your exceptional, above-average status, you will be called upon at random moments during your enrollment at Winthorpe Academy. Communication, domination, superiority. You must prove these traits by completing the challenges your prince and princess demand, or we’ll be forced to remove you from the Societies, and you’ll no longer receive the privileges afforded to you. It doesn’t matter if you’re a legacy or a fresh recruit. Am I making myself clear?”

Shivering, most of them nod.

All except one.

That damnable one.

I stare down at her from my perch. “Is there a problem?”

Ember cocks her head. Her hair’s practically the same color as her skull, yet she still comes off as a moonlit nymph.

It’s infuriating.

She says, “So, you’re asking us to perform dares. For your entertainment.”

She’s infuriating.

I don’t allow my temper to show. “Call them what you want, but that doesn’t change the fact you still have to perform them in order to keep your position in the Virtues.”

Ember has the gall to ask, “What about you? Do you and Aurora have to do them, too?”

I sense Aurora’s grin beside mine. “As your royals, no, we don’t. You’re a supplicant until I decide you’re not, Ember Weatherby. Remember that.”

A small voice cuts in. “What do we have to do?”

I search for the source in the cluster of shivering freshmen, finding a girl the size of my big toe, jumping up and down with her teeth chattering. “What’s your name?”

“Ch-Charlotte.”

I jump down from my perch. “You’re going first, Charlotte.”

“First at w-what?”

“See that jutting piece of rock up there?” I point approximately forty feet above us on the opposite side of the horseshoe shore. A black, jagged overlook etches out of the shadows just enough to have the freshmen gasping. “You’re jumping off it.”

“Excuse me?”

Christ, I don’t have time for this. I jerk a thumb at Aurora. “You’re her baronesses. She chose the jump.”

“But—but—it’s almost winter!” some poor, weak soul cries.

“Then you better be quick about it,” Jaxon interjects, hopping down to join me. “Your princess’ll be up there, ensuring you actually jump and possibly pushing those who don’t want to, knowing her.”

Aurora frowns at him, but Jaxon continues, nonplussed. “Thorne and I will stay down here, ready and willing to rescue anyone caught in a rip current.” He laughs at his own joke, which no one else gets but me. There’s no saving anyone from a riptide at night.

“Any questions?” he asks.

“So many.”

Ember again. I catch her eye, biting out, “You’re going next.”