Page 8 of The Never List (Never List #1)

Jax

“I hate the start of these tests,” Kal says as we walk into Axl’s rooms and shed our masks, laying them on the table.

Kal leans against it, Pierce electing to hold up a pillar across from it. Axl and I take our previous spots on the couches, Axl instantly pouring the both of us another drink.

“How do you think she’ll do with this first one?” Axl asks, sliding me the bourbon.

I grip the glass, bringing it to my lips as I imagine the butterfly’s sharp tongue pitted against my father’s no doubt harsh words. I swallow a healthy pull and laugh.

Pierce straightens as he saunters toward me, studying me like I’m an explosion waiting to happen.

“When you laugh like that,” Pierce says, settling next to Axl across from me, “bad things happen.”

Kal comes around, too, dropping into the armchair. All their eyes are on me. That wary look they probably don’t even realize they’re doing. I get it. I really do. Fuck, I’d be offended if they didn’t fear me just a little bit.

Axl is the least concerned of our group, but his eyes are watchful as he finishes his drink. “Way to wait till the last minute to choose,” he says, setting down his glass. “What made you change your mind?”

“You danced with her,” Kal says before I can come up with an answer. “I’ve never seen you do that before.” I can’t tell if he sounds more worried or intrigued.

I take a few moments to sort it out myself, sipping on my drink.

Kal is right. I’ve never danced with a potential—I prefer watching them dance around me. There is power in the stillness, in watching. You learn their tells, their desperations, as they try to catch your eye, seeking your approval. I rarely hand out praise unless it’s earned, and since I’m the Nightmare, no one has worked that hard to achieve it.

But with the butterfly— Rylee —I couldn’t help myself.

Where most of the crowd’s emotions centered on the power-hungry and submissive loyalty to the kings I’m used to, Rylee’s emotions were the opposite. She was a jagged diamond of indifference in a sea of attention-seeking wealth. And the closer I got to her, the more I realized her emotions weren’t open to me like everyone else’s. I thought if I touched her, it might make her feelings clearer, but even as I slid my hand into hers for a dance, they were muddled to me.

That’s never happened before. And the way she didn’t tremble in my presence, didn’t bat an eye when I found her sneaking around the palace library, didn’t fall to her feet and beg me to keep her secret, made me curious in a way that nags me still. And her emotions in the elevator just now? That bothered me even more.

“Did you get a look at her?” I finally answer them, opting for the most basic and shallow answer I can provide even though my reasoning for choosing her was anything but. I swallow the rest of my drink, the crystal clinking against the glass table as I set it down.

“She’s stunning,” Kal agrees, but he’s looking at me like he doesn’t really buy my answer.

“Do you want her first?” Axl asks. Kal and Pierce raise their brows at him.

Normally I say no. The chances of having our potential actually choose us at the end of all this go way up if she isn’t near me too much, especially for her first time with one of us. It’s become a rule of mine to never sleep with a potential. The one time I even came close ruined our chances.

Controlling emotions is an overwhelming power, and not many can handle it if I slip up and shift their feelings unintentionally. But who am I kidding? Part of the fun is testing them, pushing their boundaries to see how much they can take. It terrifies most, what I am, what I can do. Best to stay on the sidelines and watch.

An image flashes behind my eyes—one of Rylee spread out on my bed, chains wrapped around her delicate wrists, her blue eyes hazed with pleasure. I’d stalk her, tease her, touch her everywhere but where she needs me most. And only when she had been properly edged would I sink between her thighs.

“Jax?” Axl asks, and I blink out of the vision that has me shifting on the couch, clearing my throat as if that will help shake loose the desire coursing through my veins.

“No,” I say, my voice a bit hoarse. Even if my cock is aching to feel her around it, a part of me hates the idea of her being afraid of me. Plus, something changed in her the second I said her number to the crowd… I haven’t had enough time to figure out what exactly that is. “You three decide who has her first. You know me—”

“One of these days, you’ll have to partake,” Pierce says. “If she’s actually the one—”

“She could be failing her first test right now,” I argue. “If she’s the one…” I swallow hard, not fully understanding the burn in my chest. “If she’s the one, then I’ll think about it.”

Axl smiles but shakes his head. He’ll never push me, but he’s never understood my contentedness to stand by and watch as they court our potentials.

“I went first last time,” Pierce says. “So, naturally, one of you should do the honors.” He motions an arm toward us.

“You think she can handle all of us right away?” Axl asks playfully.

“You know how well that worked the last time we tried,” Kal says, immediately shutting it down. “The potential was overwhelmed and skittish the rest of the time. She made up her mind that night to reject us but had to stay for that first month.” A muscle in his jaw ticks. It’s a hard blow every time, even though we know it’s part of the game. Most of the people vying for the position are only in it for the wealth and power, not for us. “Rylee looks like the type who needs us to earn her trust before letting us in.”

I bite back a snarl, a deep, primal instinct to roar at my best friend. He barely spoke two words to Rylee, and he thinks he knows her? She had the gall to lie to my face, her sharp tongue contrasting with her pretty smiles and fluttering eyelashes. If Kal knew her, he’d know she’s not a timid creature.

What the fuck? Just because I spent a few minutes with her, all of a sudden I’m acting like I know her? Like I have some claim on her?

Kal tilts his head, noticing my shift in demeanor. I shake it off, pouring myself another drink.

Pierce swirls his bourbon, eyes calculating. “Perhaps we should let her choose who she wants first.”

Axl grins. “I’m for that game,” he says.

Kal rubs his palms together. “I love the idea of letting her choose,” he says. “In the end, that’s what we’ll need her to do anyway. Choose us.”

“And survive,” I say, my muscles tensing. We shared a dance, some flirting; what if she chooses me first?

I don’t want her to.

I absolutely want her to.

But it would be the end of her as a potential if she did. If it comes to that, I’ll alter her emotions to ensure she doesn’t select me first—though, with the way she looked at me through the crowd when I said her number, I highly doubt she has any warm feelings toward me.

I saw it in her eyes. The sense of betrayal at not telling her who I was—especially after I told her I hated liars. And her smart retort about the wealthy being the biggest ones of all. She’s not wrong, but she clearly isn’t a fan of ours. I might’ve picked the one woman in Lumathyst who hates us all.

But panic had radiated right after the betrayal. She’d hid it well as the enforcer brought her to the dais, but I’d felt it.

Another intrigue. What kind of potential panics when they’re selected?

Likely the kind who has no interest in being selected, and that baffles me most of all.

Kal’s knee bounces where he sits. “Hate this part,” he says.

We each nod, and I can’t help reaching for one of my knives, releasing it from its sheath to flip it end over end. Can’t help imagining dragging the sharp edge across my father’s throat. If he touches her, I’ll do it slowly, carve him into tiny pieces over the course of a week.

Ten minutes go by.

“Isn’t there usually screaming by now?” Kal asks.

“Yes, something is off,” Axl says, hands in fists as he bounds toward the doors, Kal barely stopping him before he gets there.

“We can’t,” Kal says, shoving him back. “You know we can’t.”

I have two knives out now, one in each hand. When did that happen?

“Impressive,” Pierce says, eyes sparking. “Perhaps this potential has no fear?”

I flip the knives in my hands and pace the room. “How many more minutes, Pierce?” I ask, knowing he’ll have it calculated to the second.

“Eighteen,” he answers.

I nod and count down the seconds with the turn of my blades.