Steel Princess (Royal Elite #2) - Rina Kent Page 0,1

be named.

Soon, Ma will be hugging someone else because she won’t be able to hug me.

Them monsters took everything from her and me.

Them monsters killed me. Not once, not even twice, but all the time.

Maybe I should’ve never come back to life.

If I didn’t, them monsters wouldn’t have killed me again.

If I didn’t, I would’ve been like the one who shall not be named and the ones who came after him.

That’s what happens to those who can’t escape monsters, right?

Them monsters take everything they want.

A hand pulls me by the arm, hauling me out of the water. My lips curl into a smile.

He’s here for me.

He’ll always be here for me.

My limbs and my lungs fail me. I can’t even open my mouth and breathe.

I can’t do anything except for closing my eyes and drifting.

* * *


My eyes crack open, and the smell of antiseptic assaults my nostrils.

For what seems like forever, I stare at the white ceiling, letting the smell of antiseptic seep all around and inside me.

This must be a hospital.

Why am I in a hospital?

I’m too disoriented to recall what happened before I was admitted here.

Something about —

Could this be…?

I slap a hand over my chest, but I find no bandage.

Okay, so this isn’t about the heart surgery.

I probe my brain for answers, but it feels dizzy. Everything is like a giant black puzzle with no pieces to put together.

“Oh, hon. You’re awake.” Aunt’s brittle voice reaches me from the doorway before she appears by my bed.

Her red hair is held in a bun and she’s wearing a black trousers-suit. The paleness of her face is more alarming than usual.

“Aunt…” I trail off at the grogginess in my voice and clear my throat. “What happened?”

I try to sit up, and Aunt helps me by adjusting the hospital bed and putting a pillow behind my back. I stare at the needle lodged in my veins and a deep-seated itch starts underneath my skin.

I rip my gaze from it to focus on Aunt.

She sits on the edge of the bed, a frown etching between her brows. “You don’t remember?”

“I was going to the car park and then —”

Her parents killed his mother. The only reason Aiden approached that monster is to make her pay for her parents’ sin.

I blink a few times at the onslaught of Jonathan King’s words.

It’s a dream.

It can’t be true.

The more I deny it, the harder the memories hit me. They’re like the crashing water that swallowed me and suffocated my breathing.

I gasp for breath.

But there’s nothing. No air.

I can’t breathe.

“One of your classmates found you in the pool. You stopped breathing and the school called an ambulance…”

Aunt continues speaking, but I’m struggling to breathe. Something heavy smashes my ribcage and my lungs.

I curl a fist in the hospital robe and hit my chest over and over.





Breathe, you stupid thing.

“Elsa!” Aunt yells, her voice crackling. “W-what’s wrong?”




The stronger I hit, the harder I can’t breathe. No air comes in or out. I’m going to suffocate.

Just like in the water, I’m going to stop breathing.

This is the end.


Aunt’s voice turns shaky and brittle. She tries to grip my wrist, but she can’t. Nothing stops me from hitting over and over again.

Steel blood runs in your veins.

You’re my masterpiece, Elsa.

My pride.

My legacy.

The room fills with noise. I barely register Uncle’s voice. Aunt’s cries. The doctors. The nurses.

Someone is talking to me. A blinding light is shoved in front of my pupils.




Get out.

Strong hands restrain me, but I can’t stop hitting. They strap my hands and the material slashes into my wrists.

They tell me something, but I don’t hear it above the buzz in my ears.

It’s all over now.

Everything is over.

I scream above all the sounds in the room.

Get out!

Get out of me!

A needle pricks my skin.


My hands fall on either side of me and my movements slow down.

My eyes roll to the back of my head.

It’s over.

All of it.

Happy now, monster?



When I wake up next, Aunt and Uncle sit by either side of me.

Aunt’s eyes are puffy as if she’s been crying while she wipes my hand with a soft, damp cloth. It’s soothing, lulling even.

I’m tempted to close my eyes and go back to the void I just came from.

It’s quiet in there. So quiet that I see nothing, smell nothing, and feel nothing.

Here, antiseptic and detergent surround me from every side.

I hate this smell. It’s a reminder of my surgery and how utterly abnormal I am.

I’m about to chase sleep when I notice something on