The Never List

by Jade Presley

To the readers who always struggle to pick a favorite book boyfriend. Don’t worry—here, you’ll never have to choose. It’s okay to love them all.

As an Ashlander—the lowest class in Lumathyst—I’m not supposed to wear clothes above my station, let alone travel across borders. But I would stick out in this city if I’d worn my own clothes—brown, threadbare cotton pants and tunic—and I thought Ivy’s dress was safer. Clearly not.

I have one shot at finding my sister, and tonight is it. Seeing as what I intend to do could land me in prison or worse, get me killed, I really don’t have time for this.

“You’re not thinking of trying to sneak into the Choosing, are you?” he asks.

I widen my smile until it hurts and graze my fingers down the hilt of his sword suggestively. “You think I’m foolish enough to do that?” “I hope not, seeing as it’s what killed your sister.”

“As long as I can see you when you’re done leeching the free drinks,” Turner says. “I’ve never been with you when you’ve been drinking,” he continues. “I bet that’s all kinds of fun.”

By agreeing to participate in the Choosing, you are giving enthusiastic consent to intimate acts with one or all four of the Legends of Chaos if chosen as a mate.

The demis—descendants of those blessed by the goddesses—had fallen out of favor with the kings centuries ago, back when they’d each ruled over their own territories, like the Legends do now. The brief era of peace ended quickly when the vicious infighting among demis mounted. Soon, demis were known only for bloodshed and greed, said to be corrupted by their goddess-granted powers. The kings stepped in before any of the factions could overthrow them and the goddesses and take full control of Lumathyst.

Power our non-magical parents managed to keep secret because our marks didn’t show on our skin until we were ten.

Being on the list means you’ll never achieve a higher social status than the one placed on you at birth.

Being on that list means, if called upon, you’re required to serve in royal assignments overseas, where you’re not protected by the goddesses’ wards.

Being on that list is almost always a d...

Anyone selected as a potential earns a higher social class after the event, whether they decide to choose the Legends or not.

covering the light, silvery mark that showed up when I was ten. The one that looks like a tiny cloud.

The mark of a demi blessed by the goddess Neph.

All people in Lumathyst age slowly after reaching maturity, thanks to magic the goddesses flooded the lands with when they first claimed Lumathyst as their own.

But when my mother, the goddess Evaluna, chose my father as her mate, she bestowed him with a drop of her power and made him immortal. His face only shows minimal signs of aging—a few wrinkles around his green eyes and snow-white hair that he keeps short.

But she abandoned us long ago, along with my friends’ mothers, the goddesses Tareena, Eirdis, and Neph.

“The goddesses in stasis can only remain and act as powerful wards while you and the Legends offer them drops of your powers yearly. Those are the terms they set when they went to sleep decades ago to protect us.

“You and the other kings either banished the ancestral demis to the Ashlands, stripping them of all wealth and privilege and hope, or work them within an inch of their lives. Most demi lines have been diluted to minimal powers, if any. There hasn’t been a whisper of them scheming against the royals in centuries. You can’t honestly view them as a threat?”

There hasn’t been a potential yet who could handle each of us on our own, and not one has ever actually enjoyed our company enough to choose us. None earned our tokens—our sacred items that we’d award the potential at the end of our individual months with her, a symbol of our promise to her. We tried, though. We always try.

Our mothers made the contract magically binding but would never force anyone to love us, so they included the option to leave after a month. So many have left us then, taking their compensation and never looking back.

Kal’s has rubies, Pierce’s has emeralds, and Axl’s, sapphires. Mine has black diamonds, a nod to my Obsidian city.

“Then we go another year without our mate,” I answer plainly. “And risk losing our mothers’ protection of Lumathyst.”

“Neph, the goddess of sky and sun, chose King Jullian Erhart.” This actress is covered in gold, her hair done in a wide fan around her face, her eyes resembling the sun itself.

Neph is the goddess whose gift runs through my veins. The cloud birthmark practically burns on the back of my neck as the actresses fall on their knees before the kings the goddesses once chose.

Why would the goddesses go to sleep when they could’ve likely created wards on their own? That part of the story always rubbed me the wrong way.

“The part where the goddesses leave their beloved sons for the sake of a threat they could’ve easily wiped out with half a thought,” he says under the sound of the crowd’s approval.

Those eyes grin like a cat catching a canary. “With all the other sheep?” I’m already backing away, but I don’t break his gaze. “Baa,” I say, then wink at him before whirling around and losing myself in the crowd.

That was the year I turned twenty-one, reaching the age of maturity where we stop counting the years. We live hundreds of years if we’re lucky, but usually that high number is only reached by the wealthy, who can afford to live that long.

If Erin didn’t make the Never List, then what happened to her?

“You’re alone in a room with a stranger. And the music from the party is so loud, no one would hear you scream,” he continues. “But you’re not trembling, not even trying to get away.”

Something tugs on me the farther I get away from him, but I ignore it as I finally make my way to Ivy and Layce.

“Thirteen,” he says, that silken voice awakening every nerve ending in my body. “The Legends of Chaos choose number thirteen.”

“You make them fall for you,” Ivy says, voice more determined than I’ve ever heard before. “You make them fall for you so fucking hard, they won’t be able to survive without you, you understand?”

I danced with the Nightmare. I flirted with him. More than that, I wanted him.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

And for reasons I can’t even begin to explain, when I close my eyes, I see Jax. I hear his laugh and feel his hands on my body as we danced. I see Kal and the way he threatened the enforcer for touching me. Fire ignites in my core, burning the panic away.

“we’re here before the Legends because it’s our right to experience you first, to test you and make sure you’re fit for our sons.” That definitely wasn’t in the contract.

“I belong to Jax, your son. He chose me. Just as I belong to Kal,” I say, flashing my eyes to Jullian, who has pushed off the pillar and stepped closer to us. I can’t read his eyes, but they’re nowhere near as evil as Baydel’s. “I belong to the Legends of Chaos, and they will be the only ones laying claim to me.”

If they wanted an easy win, they picked the wrong fucking girl.

Axl smiles at me. His lips are full and wide, that grin absolutely infectious as he walks up to me. He’s so damn tall, with bronze skin over tons of muscle, and his energy is just as large. It’s a marvel there’s space enough for him in this room; it makes me wonder what else about him might be big.

I’ve never seen such delectable men, and I’m baffled by my reaction to them versus their fathers. I don’t feel the fear I felt in the kings’ presence with the Legends. Anxiousness in the face of the unknown, sure, but I can’t deny the innate curiosity tingling beneath my skin sitting among them.

“That mouth,” Jax continues. “That’s what got you here in the first place.”

In this chaotic storm of a conversation, Kal is a welcome lighthouse.