“I’ve never wanted to be a slut,” she whispers, staring at me dangerously. A grin forms behind my mask, and I get the urge to bite into my lip. “Or someone’s queen,” she continues, dropping her tone and raising her chin defiantly. I hear a light click and the muscles of my back pull taut as my spine straightens. “I’m a King.” She sneers in my face as an arm swings free, and I feel the sharp pain of the blade hitting my neck.
