So, I was going through the internet, because I have nothing better to do with my life, and was searching for...Akarnae fanfiction! But guess what? None. No. Single. Freaking. Story. And I was thinking, hey, I have a fanfiction account, why not write one? Since this is my...FIFTH story at the moment, I probably won't update much, but hey! You don't need to know that. Also, I can't remember if it's Shondelle or Shontelle, so bear with me, okay?

Enjoy! (I should really get a better catchphrase)

"You didn't kill her." I didn't reply. Couldn't, really.

"Go up to your room. You can use your emotions. Don't escape!" Aven called teasingly after me. I scowled, now free to do whatever I wanted. Except escape. Which, funnily enough, was the only thing I wanted. Pretty sad, really. When I asked Aven to Claim me, I really didn't think about the consequences. Didn't think at all, more like. Well, not my thoughts, anyway. That day at Chateau Shontelle, I'd been trapped. Cornered. Then these weird thoughts had been, I dunno, projected into my head. Ugh. I hated thinking about it.

I reached my room, and slammed the door. Yes, I was Claimed. Yes, I totally despised Aven and would do anything to be un-Claimed but...the food here is freaking amazing. It's the best, even better than at Akarnae, and that's saying something. My room is pretty cool too, of course. Can't have his best weapon in the slums. I guessed that's what I was, I mean, I would hurt Alex without batting an eye when Aven ordered me to, but Alex wouldn't hurt me back. Like when I fought her the other day, and damn, can she fight, she was obviously better than me, but held out. She's cool like that, not killing her BFF. Well, maybe not forever, now. And anyway, I have a bit of a problem with BFF's.

Okay. So, I haven't exactly made it subtle with my feelings for D.C. But Alex misinterpreted what I meant when I said, it's complicated, all those weeks ago. What I really meant? Was that I liked her too. I know, I know, total Casanova, eh? But it's true. Then she seemed to have a thing with Kaiden, so I decided to make my move on D.C. And then, before I could actually do anything, I just had to go and be Claimed! My life really sucks. It can't really get much worse. Why? Let's see.

Reasons why my life sucks, The Fifth:
1. Dumb, socialite, high class parents who don't give a damn about me
2. Above parents are in league with Aven
3. Who I asked to claim me! Fun
4. My brother committed suicide, and is apparently still alive, and my parents knew and didn't clue me in
5. I like two girls
6. Aven wants me to kill one of said girls
7. He probably wants me to kill the other one, too
8. Who is the princess of Medora. Assassination charge? Execution
9. I'll have to choose between one of these girls if I get my own life back
10. I probably won't ever get my own life back
11. I skipped breakfast, and now I won't be able to eat until dinner
12. I'm freaking Claimed

Yeah, that's a pretty solid list. For the zintremulinth time, I eyed the knife on my dresser. Aven wanted me to keep it so I could 'remember I have to kill her'. It's quite sinister. If I stuck that knife through me (okay, maybe that phrasing was bad. Don't blame me, I'm going through an angsty existential crisis), then Aven would find it that much harder to succeed. But then, I'd be dead, which, surprisingly, I don't particularly want right now. I did promise D.C., though. Maybe I ask to go back and pretend to be on their side, when I actually am! But they know I'm Claimed. Or I sneak out using my gift? This whole Claimed thing is seriously annoying. I heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," I called miserably. Antonio stuck his dark head around the door.

"Don't sound so depressed, mate, I'm here," he joked. I raised my eyebrows.

"Dude, you're supposed to be the funny one! I'm your handy dandy sidekick! But nooo, you're back to all this sad "my life is so sad" crap."

"I just came up with a list of why my life sucks. Number one, my parents-" Antonio waved a hand.

"I came up to tell you that Aven's sending us on a super secret mission after dinner. Fun, right?" He said dryly.

"As long as it's after dinner," I nodded. He groaned.

"One day, Jordan Sparker, I will figure out your obsession with food. But not today."

"What's there to get? I like eating. I'm a growing boy," I explained. He shook his head.

"So am I. And I'm older than you. And who doesn't like eating?"

"Apparently you," I muttered, before standing up. Hey ho, hey ho, off to Aven we go. I slid down the banister, which I am a pro at. It was half my life at the Chateau.

"Hey! What're we eating?" I called once I hit the ground. Aven scowled.

"Pizza's on the table. Take a seat," he ordered, gesturing towards the table. See, when most people tell you to take a seat, you have a choice, and can be a total rude person and stay standing. But Antonio and I, being suckily Claimed, actually had to do it. We willingly (read: uh, I don't actually know what I thought I was gonna write. Um, not willingly? What a wit you are, Jordan. Really) took our seats, and dug in to the pizza. I was on my fourth piece when Aven spoke.

"You two are going to stake out Akarnae. Then Meya. I want to know how Alex is doing in her training. She will no doubt want to try and free you," he looked at me disdainfully, like, why would anyone want to free you? "You may do whatever it takes to remain under the radar, but you shall not tell them what you are doing, or else." I snorted at that. Aven's head whipped towards me, his golden eyes narrowing.

"Yes, Sparker?"

"We're Claimed. What can be worse than that?" I didn't realize what Aven knew. A wicked grin split his face.

"Oh, I can do a whole lot. Like hurting that little girlfriend of yours." The sad thing was, I didn't know which one he was talking about. I assumed it was D.C. Antonio let out a low whistle.

"Dang, man, you have a girlfriend? And didn't tell me?" Aven's glare turned to him.

"Shut up. Both of you," he added menacingly, switching his gaze back to me. Sucky thing number five thousand about being Claimed: when someone tells you to shut up, your mouth actually is forced closed. It's like it's glued together, which, trust me, is not a nice experience. If you were really clever, maybe, you could shut something that went up, or whatever, but I'm only a Gamma in the smart subject, unlike Bear.

"You understand your orders?" Aven demanded. Antonio and I pointed to our mouths. His eyes rolled.

"You can nod, you idiots! Dismissed. Get going for Akarnae." We abruptly stood up, and headed out the door. Ain't my life great.