Page 1 of Obsessively Yours (Fae Kings of Eden #2)

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TEN YEARS OLD

There is nothing worse than being forced to participate in physical activity , Violet thought sullenly as Vivian, her identical twin sister, stared at her with a twinge of annoyance.

Violet tried to push her dark auburn hair away from her face, but the sweat made it stick to her light tan skin. She hated sweating almost as much as she hated sparring.

Vivian wanted to become a warrior in the Tropical Kingdom battalion someday, and unlike Violet, she loved training with their father. They were close, closer than she and Violet. Vivian thrived under their father’s approval, like she needed it to be happy.

Violet preferred to wander through the cool, shaded jungle looking for pretty flowers to make into crowns. Yet here she stood, trying to catch her breath, wondering if someone could die from too much exercise.

“Raise your sword,” Vivian instructed. Violet raised her wooden weapon and considered whacking it against the ground until it broke. She only subjected herself to Vivian’s lessons to spend more time with her sister.

“You’re not standing right,” her sister said patiently. “Position your legs like this.” For the twentieth time that day, she demonstrated the correct form. It wasn’t that Violet didn’t know it; it was that she’d been trying to catch her breath between rounds, but Vivian thought they needed to start again immediately.

Violet begrudgingly mirrored her sister’s stance, arms shaking from the weight of the sword. Even though fae were faster and stronger than humans, they still had to work out their muscles to build their strength. Vivian always teased Violet that she was weaker than a human.

“Ready?” her sister asked.

No. Violet nodded.

Vivian rushed forward, slicing her sword through the air with deadly precision. Violet didn’t move fast enough and screamed when her sister’s sword connected with her temple. She stumbled and fell flat on her back, the impact knocking the breath out of her.

Vivian screamed, too, and dropped to the ground. Violet’s sword had flown from her hand and hit her sister in the face.

I knew sparring would kill me one day , Violet thought as she stared at the blinding sun, unable to breathe.

A boy about their age with blondish-brown hair and a slight sunburn tinting his cheeks ran over and crouched next to Violet on the ground. “Are you okay?” he asked, cautiously touching her forehead.

Behind them, Vivian cried and held a hand over her eye. “Viv,” Violet mumbled with spots dancing in her vision. Is she okay? “Viv?”

“Shh,” the boy soothed. “Don’t talk.” His eyes were kind and concerned as they gazed down at her, but they hardened as he swung around to glare at Vivian. “What is wrong with you?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Vivian insisted through her sobs. “She was supposed to duck.”

“You told me she’s a lost cause at fighting,” the boy snapped. “I saw you swing as hard as you could.”

Violet struggled to sit up and saw Vivian’s face fill with hurt. They know each other? Vivian had never mentioned a boy, and he didn’t go to their school.

“It’s not my fault she’s slow,” Vivian retorted, her cries softening into sniffles.

Violet frowned. She wasn’t that slow.

Their parents, who’d been speaking with a friend of theirs on the other side of the small park, heard the commotion and rushed over. Their mother gasped when she saw the three children on the ground; Vivian with a small cut on her cheek and a red eye that would likely bruise, and Violet with blood coating the side of her head and face.

The boy stood and moved out of the way so their father could scoop Violet into his arms to carry her toward the house while their mother assisted Vivian inside. Violet tried to look over her shoulder at the boy to thank him.

He stared after her with an unreadable expression on his face, and she gave him an appreciative smile. His eyes lit up, and he waved before turning to leave. She’d have to ask Vivian his name and how they knew each other.

Once they arrived home and both girls were cleaned up, their father tore into Vivian, scolding her for being too rough with her sister. Violet tried to interject on her sister’s behalf, to explain that it was an accident, but their father wouldn’t hear it.

Vivian’s face fell, her chin wobbling. Violet didn’t blame her. If anyone understood that accidents could happen in sparring, it was their father, but he’d berated her anyway.

Violet tried to comfort her twin later, but Vivian wouldn’t speak to her for an entire week, and once she did, things were never the same. Something changed within Vivian that day. She trained harder, played with Violet less and less, and wore cruel sarcasm like armor.