Vicious Secret: A Dark College Romance

Chapter 28

Xavier grips my arm and hauls me against him. I slam into his body, the contact jarring me. Before I can recover, he reaches down to retrieve his mask and shoves it in his back pocket.

Then he takes off.

My feet trip over each other as he drags me with him. I look back at the tree line, my eyes pricking with unshed tears. Part of me still wants to try to get away from Xavier, from this messed-up situation. But his threat to fuck me still rings in my ears.

I immediately push that image away. As well as what transpired between us. The only thing that matters now is figuring out how to get Xavier to release me from my contract. If I’m to be his bride, then he’s the only one who can help me now.

“Are you taking me to the frat house?” I ask.

He corrects me with a chilling finality. “The altar. It’s where the recruits take their brides to complete the ceremony.”

“Like a wedding?” I dig my heels in the dirt, but it’s useless. Xavier never breaks his stride. His determination is relentless, his grip unyielding. “I was told this wasn’t a real marriage.”

“It’s not.”

“Then what is this ceremony for exactly?” I ask.

He doesn’t respond immediately, and every ounce of nervousness in my stomach twists into a ball. From what I can tell, he’s been honest with me so far. Blunt and crude is more accurate. Then why is he hesitating?

He glances over at me, silver eyes glittering in the night. “The ritual symbolizes our commitment to the Order, in the same way the bride will be faithful to her recruit. It’s a binding ceremony, a pledge of loyalty witnessed by all. Once you’re mine, no one can touch you without my permission.”

“Without your…?” I scrunch my face in confusion and irritation. “Are you saying other men will touch me if you let them? What about my fucking permission?”

He slows his steps to turn and face me. I stare up at him, my chin lifted. His eyes darken and the expression on his face hardens, weakening my mental armor.

“No one will fucking touch you, with or without your permission,” he says, his tone cold yet heated at the same time. “Not if they want to live.”

My pulse quickens at the fury in voice and the threat of violence behind it. The blatant possessiveness has my body responding before I can stop it. My breath hitches, and my breasts rise as my nipples harden.

It pisses me off.

“Lucky for you, little raptor, I’m not the sharing kind.”

“I think you’ve made that clear.”

He tilts his head. “Have I? Good.”

Xavier releases my wrist before grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers. I drop my gaze to our joined hands, my lips thinning. This is the way a boyfriend might show affection to his girl, a small physical intimacy that announces to the world that they’re a couple.

I might be called a bride, but we are not together.

Oblivious to my thoughts, Xavier pulls me forward and deeper into the forest. Ahead is nothing but darkness occasionally pierced by the moonlight. We walk in silence, but my thoughts are loud.

What is he going to do to me?

I steal a glance at him before averting my gaze. His face is a mask of concentration that gives me no insight to what he’s thinking. I tell myself I don’t want to know, but it’s a lie.

He fascinates me. In some twisted way, this man with his tenacity and arrogance has piqued my curiosity. I want to know why he’s so intent on having me. Is this just about sex? Power? Or both?

Nerves ripple along my arms and up my throat, making my lips part. “Are you going to rape me?” I blurt out.

Xavier stops and whips around to face me. “Is that what you think?”

“Honestly, I don’t know what to think.”

He studies me for a moment, his gaze digging into my soul. “No, Delilah. I’ll never rape you. When it comes to sex, you will choose me.”

I jerk back, tugging on our joined hands. He tightens his grip and pulls me closer. I glare up at him.

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He leans down and places his lips next to my ear, and his warm breath skims the side of my neck. I resist the shiver his nearness creates.

“How do I know?” he murmurs. “Because the cum on my hand tells me so.”

My face heats, and the sensation spreads to the rest of my body. I can still taste his kiss, feel his touch on my skin. On my clit.

I squeeze my thighs together, hoping my skirt hides the telltale movement. “Are you using me for some weird kink?”

“No.” He gazes down at me and slowly shakes his head. “This isn’t just a kink.”

“Then what is it?”

“A need.”

His tone is soft, but his admission is like a slap in the face. I stand there with my lips parted in surprise while my mind tries to make sense of what he just told me. Is this just a sexual need?

Or does he need me?

“We’re almost there,”Xavier says.

I squint, not recognizing the trees in front of me. That isn’t surprising, considering I ran through the forest like a bat out of hell.

All for nothing.

Tears of frustration gather in my eyes at my failure.

He stops and releases my hand to put his mask back on. I watch him, silently debating whether or not to make a run for it. It’s a stupid thought, but I can’t help it.

I’m so fucking scared. Of everything. Him. The order. The ceremony.

If I try to escape, Xavier will catch me. And then he’ll fuck me with everyone listening. Or even watching. I don’t want my first time to be like that.

“Listen carefully,” he says. He stares down at me, the slashes on his mask making my stomach churn with foreboding. “The recruits want to see you suffer. They get off on that shit. Especially the council member. Everyone saw the fight in you, and now they want to watch you break. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

I narrow my gaze, tears long gone. “I heard your leader say that my behavior is a reflection on you. Is that why you’re telling me? So I don’t make you look bad?”

“No. I don’t give a fuck what they think.”

“Then why?”

He steps closer. “This is a test, and the Order expects you to fail. They want your fear,” he says.

“And what do you want?”

“Everything else.”

My breath hitches. Just as I’m about to ask him the question burning on my tongue, he takes my hand in his. The feel of his touch breaks my concentration.

What is it about him that has my mind going blank and my body becoming alert?

A woman’s scream shatters the night, echoing in the trees like the wail of an ambulance siren. The agonizing sound is immediately followed with masculine cheers and clapping. My heart slams against my ribcage. Was that Brenda or June crying out?

Xavier doesn’t so much as flinch. He squeezes my hand. I can’t tell if it’s a warning or to comfort me.

He pulls me behind him while anxiety claws at my insides. The trees around us create a wall of black spikes, their trunks covered in shadow. Too soon, the clearing comes into view, along with the recruits.

And the altar.

It’s a rectangular slab of stone. Possibly marble or granite, a dark gray speckled with silver and black flakes. Moss covers the base and the sides, hiding the weathered edges and some of the intricate carvings of long-forgotten symbols. Adjacent to it stands a single brazier, wrought from iron, its curved design hinting at ancient elegance. Smoldering embers cast an eerie glow upon the altar’s surface.

And June.

The sight of my friend lying on top of it almost makes me vomit. She sobs uncontrollably, her entire body shaking as though she’s having a seizure. The flames from the brazier dance on her tear-stained cheeks and torn dress, etching a haunting sorrowful portrait of her distress and suffering.

The recruit with the checkered mask standing directly behind the altar extends a hand to June. His masked face conceals whatever thoughts lie behind the cold demeanor that lines his shoulders. When she doesn’t take his hand, he reaches for her, assisting her down with his arm wrapped around her waist.

June stands on shaky legs and her hair sways back and forth like a curtain in a breeze. She clings to him, her sobs gradually subsiding as he whispers in her ear and she regains some semblance of composure. However, her tearful gaze never leaves the recruit.

“Votum meum tibi,1” he says, looking directly at the cloaked leader.

The council member nods in approval at the recruit. “Votum tuum receptum est.2”

The rest of the young men stand at a distance in a semi-circle, watching the exchange with rapt attention. I scan the crowd, searching for Ben. Once I find him, I can’t stomach looking at my foster brother anymore. He can’t help me now.

I keep my gaze on June as she’s led back to the group of recruits. Brenda lies on the ground at the feet of the guy with the dotted mask. Her expression is blank, as though she’s crawled so far into the recesses of her mind that she’s not mentally present. My heart breaks all over again.

I’m so happy I stabbed that motherfucker. And that he didn’t catch me.

He stands with his arms crossed, his gaze narrowed on Xavier. Then it shifts to me. And flashes with something malicious.

I return his stare. The hatred in his eyes drills into me from across the clearing, making my legs shake underneath my skirt. Even so, I don’t stop glaring at him. Instead, I pull on my rising anger and shield myself with it.

The cloaked leader claps slowly, breaking our staring contest. The man gestures to the empty altar with an outstretched hand and I gulp.

“The second bride has been claimed and branded to serve as a reminder of the power that binds them,” he says. “Only one remains.”

Xavier’s grip on my hand tightens when the leader looks in our direction. The man’s face might be covered with a mask, but I can feel the anticipation rolling off of him in waves. They crash into me, weakening my resolve.

Well, fuck this guy.

Xavier leans down, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s time.”

1?My vow to you.

2?Your vow is accepted.