Faeted: A Dark Prince New Adult Bully Romance Read online

  Faeted

  by Deiri Di

  Flight of the Dragon Book 2

  [ 1 ]

  Mariposa couldn't fit the dragon egg in her locker.

  She pushed a little harder.

  "Fit!" she said as if the single word could take the anxiety woven through the clenching fingers of her ribcage to bring her desire to life. Hide it in the locker. Hide it away and don't look at it like all the pieces of her heart that didn't want to think about the future.

  She didn't want to think about the past.

  She didn't want to think about the cell walls of the corpse's prison closing around her, the slices of red that dripped down Chase's body, the look on Vladmir's face when he sneered at her, the rock that-

  "Fit!" Mari slammed the egg against the opening.

  Crunch.

  Mari's heart held it's breath as she pulled the egg back.

  How could she have done that?

  How could she have just slammed it like that?

  She ran her hands along the orb. It was smooth, undamaged.

  The locker, on the other hand... the edges were bent in, metal caving way under a strength greater than a man-made metal box.

  Mari slipped the egg carefully back into her backpack.

  Her classmates weren't the ones she was worried about seeing it.

  Normals couldn't really see magic – if they could, Mari wouldn't have spent her entire childhood trying to hide that she saw things that other people insisted weren't there.

  Not like pretending to be average made any difference.

  "You're gonna die."

  There was a fairy perched on her locker door. It wasn't your pretty pose in a flower type of a fairy – it was an "I'm a-gonna mess up your face and shred your math homework" little monster. Mari had a great deal of experience with these little nightmares. She'd spent her childhood learning the lesson that small minds don't want to know about the cruelty they can't see.

  Weak people would rather believe someone is hurting themselves than believe that a small evil critters prey upon the gentle and naïve.

  Mari was no longer naïve.

  Spindly arms, long claws, a Mohawk mane of purple feathers, and a rhinestone-studded mini-skirt – Mari had seen this particular fairy before.

  This was the fairy that had helped her.

  She glanced around.

  No one in sight to see her talking to herself.

  "You said that last time," Mari hefted her dragon egg-laden backpack up onto her back. "Say something new."

  Last time the fairy was almost right.

  Last time her elven Prince Charming, Vladmir, drugged her with a love potion, dragged her off to his fae palace, abandoned her to repeated assassination attempts, waited until he thought she was genuinely in love with him... then he stabbed her.

  She had hit him in the face with a rock.

  And had stolen his dragon egg.

  It seemed like a good idea at the time.

  "Dragon bite. Dragon kill. Not pet."

  "What am I supposed to do?" Mari readjusted the straps on her backpack. She should have just left it at home – but then again, it was a dragon egg. She totally didn't want to let it out of her sight. "I can't give it back."

  "Smash it! Break it! Cook it! Eat it!"

  Yeah right.

  A baby dragon couldn't be that hard to handle.

  She would have time to figure out how to train it.

  Maybe she should read some books on lion taming. Or better yet – crocodiles. Those dinosaur descendants were the closest she was going to get... that is, if the dragon was reptilian. There were no guarantees.

  Not when unicorns had fangs.

  Voices echoed around the corner of the school building.

  Other students were arriving.

  They weren't the ones she was hiding it from.

  Chase was the only one at the school who could see it.

  Thinking about him made her stomach feel queasy.

  She wanted to see him, but she also wanted to stab his face with a spork.

  "I have a present for you." She reached into her locker and pulled out a small cloth satchel. She liked to use cloth to wrap presents. It was more reusable than plastic wrapping that would just clutter up landfills.

  "An exchange," the fairy chirped. "What trade?"

  "No. A present. A gift. Something that I am giving to you with no expectation of return." She held out the small satchel.

  "What is a gift?"

  Mari blinked at the little bug.

  She didn't realize that some people didn’t understand the concept of gifts. There were other people in her life like that, individuals who would take a gift then immediately find a way to balance out the equation. It seemed to Mari as if they felt like the gift placed them in debt as if it wasn't a joy but an obligation.

  "Gifts are things you give others with no expectation of return." She repeated, lifting an eyebrow.

  Mari held out the present.

  The fairy eyed it but didn't take it. "Exchange? You give. I give."

  Was the concept really that difficult?

  "Because when you give freely to another person, it releases serotonin in your brain. So basically, when you give other people gifts without expecting anything in return, it makes you happy and gets you high. Say yes to gifting."

  The fairy plucked the satchel out of her hands. Instead of pulling open the drawstring, she stuck one claw into the fabric and slit it open.

  Fairies were so annoying.

  Doll's clothes peeked through the slit.

  The fairy clutched the package to her chest. "I gift name." She lifted one finger and pointed at herself. "Ze."

  Without another word, Ze flitted away.

  Teenagers surrounded her, banging open their lockers in the cool mist of the morning. The chatter filled the air, interrupted only by the ring of the bell, summoning them all to homeroom.

  How to freak out a fairy: give it a gift.

  The simple things in life were the most enjoyable.

  Like a match flickering against the backdrop of a sunless sky, Mari held onto that small moment of joy before it flickered back into the dull ache of her bruised mind.

  #

  Stephanie wasn't at their tree.

  Mari sat on the cement bench by the old oak tree at lunchtime, peanut butter sandwich in hand as she waited for her best friend to appear.

  The end of the lunch period crept closer.

  Where was she? They always sat together.

  Mari picked up her brown bag lunch and wandered back towards the trap of a sunless auditorium filled with plastic benches and tables, smelling like microwaved chicken nuggets and chemicals.

  Stephanie and Mari always ate outside by the tree.

  On occasion, they changed things up and went to eat in the school's organic garden greenhouse, a thicket of green and growing edible things, humidity held safe by greenhouse walls.

  It didn't take her long to spot her best friend, a petite blond with a loud laugh and a nervous giggle – she could always spot people she knew from far away just from the way that they held themselves.

  Like Chase.

  Who sat right next to her best friend.

  Something cold clenched inside of her gut.

  His black hair shone from across the room, unable to draw attention away from the cut lines of his arms accented by the thin fabric of the t-shirt.

  He was dangerous.

  Even the football players looked like piles of mush next to the cut muscle that lined every inch of his sword fighter's body.

  Normals couldn't see his pointed ears.

  Mari didn't notice
the peanut butter oozing out from her clenched fist.

  Stephanie was sitting next to Chase.

  Right up next to him.

  She giggled and slapped at his arm.

  Mari felt like she couldn't breathe. There was a weight on her chest, pressing her heart down into a tiny box, confining it in concrete walls and iron bars as the fire consumed the last of her oxygen. It was fueled by her conflicting desires. That moment where he hung there, where she decided that she would never leave him, never abandon him to his family.

  He chose to hurt a girl he didn't know.

  He chose to see her as nothing more than a pawn in a game.

  She never wanted to see him again.

  She’d told him that.

  Yet there he was.

  Mari didn't realize she was moving until she passed her oak tree and headed down the stairs towards the football field. She just needed to get away. She needed to run away. She needed to be anywhere but right there, trapped at a school where she had to see Chase.

  He was the boy she loved.

  He was the boy she hated.

  His older brother's plan was his twisted game to play in which Mari was only a piece to move and manipulate.

  It was Vladmir who held the knife.

  But it was Chase who mixed the potion.

  Mari sat down on the ground under the bleachers facing the football field. She gripped her hair in her hands and shuddered.

  Was this what love was supposed to feel like?

  It felt like rage.

  "You have peanut butter in your hair."

  Mari pulled her hands away from her head.

  She'd just smashed a peanut butter sandwich into her hair.

  Of course, she did that.

  That was exactly the type of thing she would do.

  It was just like her to have an audience to the act.

  Sitting just a few yards away from her was Benjamin. Six feet of blond, oh my goodness, he was a senior in her class she'd never spoken to – ever. What did she have to say to the star quarterback? What did she have to say to a hunk of yes please, more please, do you really need to wear a shirt, please?

  She just smashed a peanut butter sandwich into her hair in front of the school's star quarterback.

  Yep. That sounds about right.

  "I think there might be some jam in there too." He smiled at her, teeth flashing white with the best dental work that la-la land can buy.

  Just last year, she would have stammered something, bolted, then spent the next several hours sobbing hysterically and wondering how on earth she could be so completely inept. Just last year, she thought fairies were hallucinations, boys were scary to talk to, and that one day her special someone would come and rescue her from a life that really wasn't as difficult or horrible as she thought it was.

  Last year she never dreamed that she could save herself.

  This year fear was nothing more than an illusion.

  Quarterback schmorterback.

  "I'm Mari." She dug into her lunch bag for a napkin. "My lunch is in my hair. How's your day going?"

  "Much better now that the entertainment has arrived." Benjamin rolled forward towards her. He took one of the napkins out of her hand, grabbed a strand of hair, and began wiping. "I'm Benjamin."

  "Why're you under the bleachers, Benjamin?"

  "Why're you under the bleachers, Mari?"

  Cheeky monkey.

  "I asked first!" The bits of the napkin were breaking off, so now she had peanut butter and little flecks of white in her hair.

  "Life has gotten really weird." Benjamin dropped his strand of napkin speckled buttered hair. "So I thought I'd hide from it for a little while. You?"

  Honesty sounded like a fun conversation.

  "I told a guy that I never wanted to see him again, and instead, he transferred to my school and is now flirting with my best friend." Mari shrugged. "I thought I'd hide from them for a little while."

  "Did you ask him why he transferred schools?" Benjamin took his thumb and wiped a glob of jam away from her hairline. "Maybe it has nothing to do with you."

  Mari blinked.

  Nothing to do with her?

  Why in the cosmos would an elf come to a human school if it had nothing to do with her? Then again, how was she going to find out if she just hid under bleachers instead of just going up and asking him?

  Also, what kind of quarterback cleans peanut butter out of a girl's hair?

  "That's a good point," Mari stood up. "I suppose I'll go ask him."

  The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

  "Wait." Benjamin caught her hand, stopping her from walking off. "You still have peanut butter in your hair."

  "Yeah? So?" Mari grinned at his expression. Why should she care about something so insignificant as that? When compared to a stone golem assassin trying to pound her into a pulp, peanut butter hair was just delightful.

  "Take this." Benjamin untied a green bandana from his wrist. It was his thing, a little piece of flair that he always wore – even at games. He wrapped it around her head, tucking her hair out of sight. "There."

  "Thanks." Mari waved at him. What was she supposed to do? Was she supposed to hug him? What did normal girls do in that sort of situation? Why did she suddenly care about seeming normal? "See ya."

  "Hey Mari, hypothetical question." Benjamin ran a hand through his silky blond hair. "If something happened, something that made you special – but no one would ever believe you, plus they would definitely think you had gone insane, plus you might have actually gone insane – what would you do?"

  "I'm definitely the right person to ask." Mari smoothed his green bandana down over her scalp. "But that doesn't mean I know the right answer."

  "Just say it."

  Honesty all the way.

  "Understand what it is you put in your body. If you think you're going crazy, then listen to what you're thinking and think about why you're thinking it. Don't just think. Observe your thoughts." She paused. "Reality is crazier than you will ever be. There is a good chance that you're not going crazy. You're just seeing more of existence than you were capable of experiencing before."

  Benjamin stared at her.

  She was going to be late for class.

  "Bye!" Mari waved again.

  Waving was awkward.

  Maybe she'd try hugging him next time.

  Thinking about wrapping her arms around a different boy felt nice.

  [ 2 ]

  It took Mariposa a week to realize that Chase was avoiding her.

  At first, she didn't know what to think. He always seemed to be slipping around corners, drifting along the edges of her world. She would follow after him only to find him ensconced in a group of their peers, protected by a barrier of banal banter.

  Stephanie spelled it out for her.

  There he was, in the spaces between classes, the short breaks to walk from one box of homogenized structured thinking to another: just a few steps, such a small distance between them.

  He turned away from her to walk with Stephanie.

  "Chase!" She closed the distance between them. "Chase, I need to talk to-"

  Stephanie spun on her heel.

  She stepped into the space between them, cutting Mari off from Chase with one effective interception. Her blond locks bounced with the stiffness of hairspray treated curls, a recent change in her look. Stephanie never cared about how she looked before.

  Now eyes outlined with thick black eyeliner stared Mari down.

  Her best friend, the girl with whom she had spent every school-bound moment of the last three years together – she was now stuck to Chase's side.

  Stephanie blocked her path.

  "Chase doesn't want you bothering him." Stephanie crossed her arms. "He isn't your friend."

  "What?"

  Stephanie grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the stream of students.

  She pulled Mari out of earshot.

  "Ow, let go." Mari pried her frien
d's fingers from her arm. "What do you mean bothering him? I haven't talked to him since he got here."

  "Chase told me you guys hung out during summer break." Stephanie crossed her arms again. Her gaze darted about, skidding across Mari's face before diving over her shoulder, not staying fixed in any one location for long. "He told me everything."

  No way.

  "No, he didn't." He couldn't tell her everything. Stephanie would think he was crazy – she couldn't even see his ears. "He couldn't have told you everything."

  "Why didn't you tell me?" Stephanie jabbed Mari's shoulder with one finger, punctuating her upset with physical interaction. "Why didn't you tell me any of it? Why did I have to hear about it from Chase?"

  "Why didn't you ask?" Mari hadn't told anyone the whole truth, not her parents, not her friends. No one would believe her. On this planet filled to the brim with more humans than its limited resources could support, Mari never met another human who saw the world the same way that she did.

  "Well, I believe Chase." Stephanie's knuckles were white around the straps of her shoulder back. "And you need to leave him alone. He doesn't want anything to do with you."

  Stephanie turned on her heel and flounced off.

  What had Chase told her?

  #

  "Clean your room!" Cathy yelled from the living room. "You should be embarrassed for yourself, you filthy slob."

  Mari shut the front door behind her.

  It had been a long walk home.

  The dragon egg seemed to grow heavier with every step, the weight dragging on her shoulders through the not padded enough straps of her backpack. Her arms ached from carrying her books.

  By the time she got home, she was out of breath and sweating.

  Mari was not even close to the definition of fit. She wanted to be. She wanted to be skinny and muscular and not get out of breath – she just didn't know how to get there.

  But she was starting to try, by walking.

  She also didn't know what her step-mom was talking about. When she left this morning, her bed was made, and all the books were back in their proper places on her bookshelf.

  She walked up the stairs, her legs protesting each and every step.

  Her room had been ransacked.

  All of her drawers were open, clothes in piles on the floor or hanging on the edges. Books had been knocked from the bookshelf. Her bedding was off-kilter, mattress askew.