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“Caedes.”
“Ding, ding, ding, and the point goes to Rexford.” Cade leans down and roughly grabs Alex’s jaw. “You’ll make Daddy Rexford proud before the night’s out. That’s right, everyone, Alexander Shaw is, in fact, Harrison Rexford’s bastard child. But rules are rules, and the first-born son of an heir gets their shot at becoming an Electi.”
Anticipation buzzes through the crowd. A lot of these kids live for the whispers and rumors that circulate Gravestone like an unrelenting breeze. But hearing it and seeing it are two very different things.
“Caedes is usually a little bloody fun. A chance for initiates to show their strength and go head-to-head with their fellow initiates. But not this year… this year, they will compete in a different gauntlet. This year, they’ll take on… us.” Cade yanks his t-shirt over his head and cracks his knuckles. Raucous applause fills the air, a bloodthirsty shrill that I feel all the way to the pit of my stomach.
“Did you know about this?” I ask Sasha, but her pupils are already blown and the grin splitting her face tells me she’s as high as a kite.
“I told you to take the pill.” She shrugs as if it’s just business as usual.
It isn’t business as fucking usual.
“Tell me you’re not going out there?” I hiss at Channing, but he’s already moving away from me, yanking his t-shirt over his head and approaching his friends. The five of them—Cade, Ashton, Tim, Brandon, and Channing—stand before Bexley and Alex like bronzed gods.
“The only way you leave here tonight,” Cade says, ushering the crowd into silence once more, “is to submit.”
“Oh God,” I breathe. He’s insane. Completely and utterly insane.
Alex looks green, like he’s going to puke at any moment. But not Bexley. He looks furious, his eyes burning with contempt. Staggering to his feet, he runs a trembling hand through his hair, levelling each of the Electi with a murderous glare.
“You want carnage?” He spits the words, their venom snaking through me like barbed wire. “Come get it.”
11
Bexley
"The only way to make a difference, to make a change, is to see this through. Everyone in this town needs you to do this." Uncle Marcus—Grandad's, I guess—words ring out in my mind as I stare Cade fucking Kinsley right in the eyes.
If he thinks he's scaring me enough to make me back down, to make me submit like he craves, then he needs to think again. Because I don't submit to anyone, especially not a jumped-up, power-hungry cunt like him.
Even without Marcus' words ringing loud in my ears and the haze from whatever they gave us back at that freaky-as-fuck chamber, there's no way I'd walk away from this fight. Even if it ends up being five against one.
It might have taken a lot of time and effort on Alex's part to scale my walls and worm his way inside my life, but he's the opposite of me, and I already know that he can't fight for shit.
They're going to take him down in less than two minutes, I'd put money on it. I, however, have every intention of making it hard work for them.
The bloodthirsty crowd chants and cheers, desperate for the fight to start as tension ripples around us.
I don't look at the other four. I don't give a fuck about them.
I'm going for the main man.
He's my target. And I think that might be the case long after tonight is done.
"Robes off, initium. Let's see what you're made of," Cade taunts.
My hands drop to the tie around my waist as my head continues to spin. I should have guessed they'd spike the drinks we were forced to down as part of whatever fucked-up ceremony we endured in that church not so long ago. But the second my vision started to blur and my muscles started to relax, I knew what they'd done.
Lucky for me, though—after all the shit I've taken over the years, I have a high tolerance for that crap, and unlike Alex, who almost passed out on the journey here, I'm still somewhat with it.
I rip the tie open and shrug the fabric from my shoulders, now grateful for the shorts they allowed us to pull on, although suspicious of them doing something as kind as that.
A smirk pulls at my lips as I wonder if it's because my cock is bigger than Cade's.
"Something funny, Easton?"
"Yeah," I spit. "You."
