Page 66 of Volatile King (The Kings of Wayward Academy #6)

Was this the real Mya? She was quiet and looked skittish, but…not. I glanced at the door she’d disappeared behind and shook my head. God, I wish I had Liam’s skill right now.

Walking to the far end, I found an open room and stepped inside. I closed the door and locked it, and a comforting feeling washed over me with the click. The lighting was warm in that dishonest, too-perfect way. The kind that hid flaws but didn’t erase them.

Stripping out of my clothes, I heard Ivy come in and leave again.

I knew because she hummed the entire time.

When I was ready, I peeked around the door to find the coast clear, so I took the leap and stepped out.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the pale blue dress as my heart ticked in time with my nerves.

This was harder than I thought it was going to be. I’d been so determined not to leave Nash alone with Mya that I didn’t really analyze how this was going to affect me. I was the insecure girl, or I guess wife.

Sighing and turning my attention back to the dress, I tried to decide if I liked it. It wasn’t super fancy, but not casual either. It would make a cute dinner date outfit if paired right. It looked good…but it didn’t feel like me.

Mya let out a breathy gasp when she came out of her changing room. It had been so quiet that I thought I was alone.

“Oh my god, Ren. That color on you! It’s…unfair. Honestly,” she said in a syrupy tone. She smiled, clasping her hands together.

Okay, that was weird. I didn’t answer. I smoothed the fabric and still couldn’t figure out if she was being genuine.

“If I had your skin tone, I’d never wear anything else,” she added. “You look like someone Nash would write poetry about.”

I stilled. Nash? Poetry? She couldn’t be serious. I had wondered how long it would take for her to bring him up once we were alone. It took all of five seconds, and now the compliment felt more like a razor blade hidden in a cake.

“I mean, Nash always had a thing for girls who carried that quiet sadness. The ones who looked like they were surviving something. You have that same...ache in your eyes that I always had. It’s beautiful. Especially with your soft gray. It’s like staring into a crisp spring day.”

She was officially making me uneasy, but she’d also hit a nerve. I blinked at my reflection. Was that what Nash saw when he looked at me? Was I pain wrapped in a pretty dress?

“I used to hate that about myself,” she continued, but I really wished she wouldn’t.

“How broken I looked. But Nash said it made me real. Maybe he’ll see more of that in me now, after…

well, Lawrence is not a gentle man.” She looked away, and my head spun.

I wanted to smack her and felt bad for her at the same time.

“I’m glad he found that same quality in you. ”

Mya stepped closer, and even though her eyes remained sad, and she had her hands neatly clasped in front of her, Ivy’s words rang in my head. It did feel like she was carrying a knife, just an invisible one.

I smoothed the dress again to give my hands something to do and debated dashing into the change room and staying there until people came looking for me. But that was cowardly, and it wouldn’t stop her voice from coming through the door and strangling me with her words.

“Mya…we don’t need…to talk…about Nash,” I said, happy that I didn’t get any of the words wrong.

“Oh…you poor thing, with your broken voice, and…” she tapped her head. “We really are the same kind of damaged.” She laughed gently at the joke only she found funny. “I’m not trying to make things weird.”

And yet, she’d already turned the air sour. I turned in a circle, pretending to look at the dress from all angles before facing her. Having her at my back seemed like a greater disadvantage.

But Mya took the opportunity to step to the side and sat on the small velvet bench outside of my dressing room like it was a throne. She crossed her ankles as her gaze lingered on me. I fought the urge to fidget.

“Devastating…truly. You look like the kind of girl boys regret losing. Then again, I guess you know that. I mean…you have five of them.” She blushed and fanned her face. “I don’t know how you manage that.”

It wasn’t any of her business, and there was no way that I was giving her any ammunition. It felt like anything I said could be used against me.

“I used to believe that Nash would never love anyone the way he loved me,” Mya said, her voice wistful. “Isn’t that silly?”

“No,” I said. And I meant it. Mya’s eyes hardened a little, the sugary veneer slipping.

“Nash used to say that no one understood him like I did.” She tilted her head.

“But maybe that’s because we grew up with the same kind of damage.

He didn’t have to explain things to me…I already knew.

” Mya pulled her hair over her shoulder, running it through her fingers.

“My father wasn’t as cruel as Lawrence, but he wasn’t a kind man either.

I saw Nash in a way that no one else could. ”

Mya was still looking at me, but she wasn’t really seeing me. Her eyes were unfocused, like she was watching the past, and I was just the flickering screen.

“I was his first, you know,” she added suddenly. “For everything.”

The floor dropped from under my feet.

“First kiss. First love. We were both virgins, so each other’s first time.

” She smiled and blushed as she twirled her hair.

“We didn’t plan our first time…it just…happened.

You know two crazy teens madly in love. Nash was so sweet after.

I remember lying there completely exhausted and reeling over what we’d just done.

All the usual questions floated through my mind.

Was this too soon? Are we too young? What if my father finds out?

But Nash knew exactly how to put all my worries at ease.

He got up, went to his dresser, and walked back with this little candy ring from a vending machine.

” She held out her hand, looking at her naked wedding finger.

“He slipped it on my finger and said, “ Now you’re really my queen.” Isn’t that sweet? ”

I felt paralyzed, not wanting to hear any more and yet unable to turn away. Mya’s laugh was soft, dreamy.

“He used to call me that all the time, my queen. He said the world treated me like I was disposable, so he would treat me like I was royalty.”

Something in my stomach clenched. I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy, grief, or betrayal. Maybe all three.

“We were already talking about North back then,” she went on. “We didn’t know we would be parents so young, but once I got pregnant…it felt right. Like he was meant to be ours until…” Mya’s face fell, her eyes filling with tears. “Well…you know.”

She looked up at me, her smile tinged with something too raw to be innocent. Underneath was something so dark that it felt like pure evil staring at me, and then on the next blink, it was gone. My heart sped faster, and my chest ached.

“Nash called him our little prince. He rubbed my stomach and whispered things like, “ Your kingdom’s coming, baby boy.” And “I’m going to give you the world. Or “You two complete me.” He was so sweet.”

I was torn between every word being a well-fabricated lie meant to wound, and her really reminiscing about a man that I didn’t know. I tried to swallow the ache creeping up my spine.

“I wonder if he still does that,” she said thoughtfully. Then she tilted her head like a creepy doll. “Do you know…if he still talks to North at night? Even though he’s not here. Nash never needed anyone to tell him how to love. He just…did, and with so much passion and kindness.”

That wasn’t the Nash I knew. He’d been more like that since my accident, but now my mind was twirling like a top, wondering if that was what he loved. The girl he needed to protect, the one he needed to fix. The Nash I knew…was not the smiling, loving version that Mya painted.

“I guess that’s what makes you and me the same. We didn’t have to teach him how to love us. He just did, or…does.” She smiled, not differentiating whether she meant me or both of us.

I stood as still as a statue in the hum of the soft lighting, the dress felt like static against my skin, making it crawl.

“I hope you don’t feel guilty,” she said, eyes locking on mine. “You didn’t take Nash. I know that. I was gone. Dead, basically. You had no way of knowing.”

“Mya…this is…” I shook my head, stumbling for the right word.

“But you know now,” she added sweetly…too sweet.

The space between us suddenly crackled with invisible tension.

“And I would never expect you to walk away,” she said quickly, as if soothing what she’d just implied, and yet someone reinforcing that was exactly what she wanted.

“That would be cruel. And I’m not cruel. ” She smiled.

No, I thought. Just calculated.

“It’s just…” she trailed off, as if lost in thought. “Sometimes I wonder if Nash looks at you and sees me.”

“What?” I growled. The first real simmer of anger burned in my gut as she continued to twist that invisible blade.

“Not in a bad way,” she said. “Just…echoes. We bled so much of ourselves into each other. It’s hard to scrub that out. We are just part of one another.”

Mya stood and sighed softly as she brushed her hand lightly across my arm.

“I’m not mad,” she whispered. “You’re not the enemy. None of this is your fault. It’s Lawrence’s fault, and while I was gone…Nash chose you. That’s okay, I get that he needed to fill the void.”

“Just stop.” I held up my hand, wanting this conversation to be over.

“I’m so sorry. I just can’t stop talking. You’re so easy to share with,” Mya said, laying it on thick. “Feelings don’t care about logic, Ren. They just ache. You know that better than anyone, don’t you? I see it in you. We are so alike.”

“No, we are not,” I said perfectly.