Page 62 of Depraved Boys

“Buckle up.” Leopold glanced over his shoulder. His golden hair flopped over his brow, framing twinkling aquamarine eyes. “You’re in for a very bumpy ride.”

“If this is another initiation—”

“Now you’ve spoiled the surprise.” He threw his hands up in the air.

“We told you,” said Sebastian. “Kings are made, not hazed.”

I rolled my eyes, put on my seatbelt, and sank into the leather seat. Whatever this was, I trusted them enough to know it wouldn’t hurt or humiliate. Once we had left the woodland around the academy and passed through its gates, I huffed out a frustrated breath. I still had a pile of prep and the diary entries to decipher.

Sebastian turned on the stereo and played Summer Nights from the Grease soundtrack.

“Not this shit again.” Leopold reached for one of the buttons and shuffled forward to Grease Lightnin’. “If I have to listen to your musical, I’m picking the tracks.”

Sebastian sang the lyrics at the top of his voice, and Leopold joined in with Kenickie’s parts and at the chorus, where they both performed the arm movements. I smirked. For such cool guys, they could be such goofs. When the road turned treacherous, Sebastian stopped singing to concentrate, and Leopold skipped forward to Hound Dog and then Born to Hand Jive.

The jeep turned onto a single-track road with dense forest looming in on both sides. Sebastian shifted down to L on the automatic gearstick, and we traveled up a steep gradient.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“The country hideout.” Leopold turned around and waggled his eyebrows. “Where no one will hear you scream.”

I locked gazes with Sebastian in the rear-view mirror and raised my brows. He smiled back, indicating that he wouldn’t expand on Leopold’s sketchy description.

I folded my arms across my chest and pursed my lips. Moments later, Sebastian drove the jeep down a dirt track, through a grove of ancient oaks and to the largest, most breathtaking treehouse I’d ever seen.

Set within an ancient oak whose branches sprawled down to the ground, it consisted of a round, wooden structure with panoramic windows and a wide, shingled roof that provided a verandah.

I sucked in a shocked breath. “What is this place?”

“Our cabin in the woods,” said Sebastian.

“Is Prakash inside?”

“He’s sulking back at the academy, but never mind him. We wanted to welcome you to our castle.”

“By abducting me the same way the queens did?”

“Au contraire, mon petit porcelet,” said Leopold. “We took you in broad daylight knowing you’ll enjoy what we’re going to show you.”

I pursed my lips. Calling me a little piglet in French still didn’t make it sound cute. “If it’s what you showed me in the girl’s changing room—”

“You want to see it?”

Sebastian snickered and turned off the car engine. “Keep it in your pants unless you want it torn off, you dirty dog.”

“Ah… Sorry.” Leopold stepped out of the car and opened my door. “I really should warm you up first.”

Heat rose to my cheeks, and I squeezed my thighs together. My libido kept conjuring up pictures of naked Leopold and his glorious, thick penis, but the part of me who still remained skeptical of the Kings slapped those images out of my head.

I stepped out of the jeep’s warmth, into what I could only describe as a miniature oak forest, and glanced around the treehouse for signs of a ladder.

A cool breeze penetrated my wool blazer, and I wrapped my arms around myself. “How do you get inside?”

Leopold swept me off my feet, pressing me against his warm, hard chest. “Up the branches. Since I’m the most sure-footed, I’ll take you.”

He sprinted toward the tree, and I clung to his neck like a frightened koala. As he ran up the branch with the balance and dexterity of a tightrope artist, I gazed over his shoulder at Sebastian, who grinned and pointed at the brace on his foot.

Leopold opened the door and set me on my feet. We stepped into a vast space of oak frames, matching floors, and white walls.