Vengeance (The Prince's Games Book 1) Rebecca Grey (first e reader txt) 📖

floor falls away from view outside of the clear walls that surround us. My stomach drops, staying behind as we rise. In seconds, we come to a full stop and the smallest dinging noise chimes before the door opens back up.

"This is us. Fifth floor." Marcello points us out and down the hallway.

The marvelous construction of the building did not end on the first floor. Even here a lush red carpet without stains or tears covers the floor and the walls are still glistening. Maybe the entire building is made from pure gold. To be sure, I run a finger against the wall as I follow the small group. Smooth, an almost impossibly silky texture meets my fingertip and I can hardly believe it.

The awe I'd walked in with starts to wash away. It disappears completely when Marcello stops at the first door and we enter our luxurious living space. Here in The Oasis they have all this while in The Bend most aren't even sure when or where they'll get their next meal. Most weeks I'm struggling to pay my own rent for a building that's falling down around me.

What did the Hybrids on this side of the wall do to deserve a life where riches are handed to them? What did we do on the other side to be deprived of all these good things? Saints, I can’t stop questioning. I can’t stop.

I should feel lucky. I should feel thankful or blessed or some other form of fucking gratitude. But all there is inside me is an ocean of anger and bitterness as I look out over the large overstuffed couches and marble countertops of the kitchen beyond.

The keys scratch against a small table inside the door as Marcello sets them down. The carpet ruffles under my shoes as I drag my feet across the floor, barely making it inside before my legs stop moving all together. All I can do is stare. Stare and let the steam of anger rise up off my skin.

No one notices the shift in my demeanor. Or perhaps they do, but they don't question it this time. Or it could very well be that this sort of anger isn't too far off from my regular everyday anger.

"Three rooms. Two per room." Marcello points to the three closed doors off to the side of the room. "Me and Juilliard, Finnegan and Sloane, then Nilsa and Hedda."

"I get to room with the Human for the night!" Hedda claps her hands and opens the first room. "Woah, these are nice."

"They’re too nice," I say quietly and mostly to myself.

"Each room has its own bathroom," Juilliard adds. "You could use a shower. Do you know what a shower is Human, or do you need that need explained too?"

I send him daggers with my eyes, Marcello jumping in before I can argue. "Everyone needs to grab our bags and get cleaned up for the party tonight. This is the time we can let loose, have a little fun before we get too serious." Something mischievous dances in that daring gaze of his. What does he have planned? We can only be left to wonder until this evening, I guess.

In front of the living space all of our bags, my trunk included, are stacked and waiting. Sweeping an arm over the top, I send all of the bags above mine into a heap on the floor. I grab the nearest handle and heave it toward the room Hedda claimed. The trunk is so heavy I damn near grunt when I pull on it but I’m somehow able to contain myself as it scrapes the carpet behind me.

"Would you like some help?" Marcello asks as Juilliard scowls and picks his own bag out of the heap I made.

"No." I tug a little harder. "If I'm good enough to compete in these games, I'm sure as fuck strong enough to carry my own suitcase into my room. It's packed with all sorts of weapons." I add the last bit because I'm certain that has to be why it weighs so stinking much, even though I have yet to go through the items in the trunk.

"Okay," he snickers as he scoops up his luggage and heads in the same direction as his friend. I glare at his back, knowing that if they take the room across the way that Hedda and I will be sharing a wall with Finnegan and Sloane.

"Wouldn't you like the room next to us?" I speak up. There would be even less sleep between Hedda's questions and Finnegan and Sloane bumping uglies next to us.

"Why, so you can sneak into our room?" Marcello turns so he can walk backwards and keep eye contact with me. His lips tease at a smile and it makes a fraction of the frustration that always lives inside of me dissolve. The simple boyish flirting in the tone of his question wakes a part of me that doesn’t often get shown. Suddenly, I’m wanting to flirt back and get swept up in the game of it.

I return his look with a sly smile of my own. "So it will be easier for me to sneak over and stab you in the middle of the night, obviously." I look around him to Juilliard. “Your friend should watch his back too.”

Marcello bites his lip, chuckling behind his teeth. He laughs harder when he sees the way Juilliard’s face has fallen into an annoyed glare pointed at me. I suppose knocking his bags off mine had been childish. But the threat is simply a warning.

Hedda, disregarding her bags, is already leaning into the doorway. Her stumpy round fingers slip around my collar, helping to tug me out of the living room into our shared room. Juilliard laughs with Marcello as they disappear into their room across the lavish living space. The moment I can't