Page 130 of Glutton for Punishment

“Taken where?” Duval asks sharply.

“They—” The man shakes. “Witnesses said they saw white transport vans with a skewered snake symbol on the side.”

Wicka.

The realization slams into me so hard my vision flashes white. Not children…

For one horrible second I’m ten years old again, being dragged screaming away from my mother. Something inside me snaps.

Riven rises from his chair. “I didn’t authorize—”

I grab him before he finishes. The table crashes sideways as I slam him against the concrete wall hard enough to crack it. My gun presses beneath his jaw.

“You think I won’t kill you here?” I hiss.

Riven’s composure fractures.

“Maddox,” Valentine says in warning.

Vex watches like this is the greatest entertainment of his life.

“You’re getting emotional again,” he says. “That’s dangerous in war.”

I want to shoot him first. Then Vex. Then burn every one of their territories to ash.

Instead, I step back. Breathing hard. Arwen’s beautiful eyes flashing through my mind.

If I stay here, I’ll become this. That’s what she had said.

I realize it’s too late for me. I’m already the West she thinks I am. No more playing nice.

But if I kill them both now, my father will only execute me for such a cowardly strike. Unprovoked in neutral territory.

I look at Riven one last time, unleashing my monster.

“If you are going to play war, control your allies.” I say. “If Wicka harms even one hair on those children’s heads, I will wipe you and all your allies off the board. Even if I have to take the easy way out. Even if I go with it.”

Then I turn toward my men. “Mobilize everyone.”

Valentine closes her eyes.

“Maddox—”

“No more diplomacy. No more meetings. This is war.”

Chapter 38

Arwen

You could drown a girl in the ocean of rumors at SinVail, but I learn to float above it all as it fades to background noise. One month in, most stories about me have calcified into their final forms: the former sinless student with a mysterious power so strong that my bonds, Maddox and Atticus, dropped my ass and I’m not allowed to use it.

Unfortunately, I’m also known as the girl who is so bad at potions that her instructor for her last lab needed reconstructive healing on both his hands.

Outside of that, things have returned to a sense of normalcy. I have received no other ‘gifts’ from Vex, thankfully. Although there have been plenty of creepy notes of devotion from Maylo…

Drawings on my nightstand, words on my window. Even letters drawn through a steamy mirror when I’m in the shower room alone. Next time I see him, we are going to have a firm conversation about privacy and boundaries.

Faction Resource Statistics is an interesting enough class. Various second- and third-year students pack the auditorium in their color-coded blazers. I sink down in my seat, getting comfortable in the back row as our instructor, Professor Tally, prowls the semicircular tiered seating. It’s been nice to fade into statistical insignificance.