Vicious Secret: A Dark College Romance

Chapter 29

Xavier releases my hand to wrap a secure arm around my waist before guiding me over to the altar. The warmth of his skin battles with the chill coating me. The second I catch sight of a link of chains ending in a manacle, my brave fa?ade cracks.

I nearly stumble as my feet get tangled up in one another. Xavier’s grip on me tightens, and he keeps me upright, preventing me from shame. And from escape.

I didn’t notice the metal restraints because they weren’t used on June. But now that I have, I can’t stop looking at them. Is he going to use them on me?

“Get on the altar and lie down,” Xavier says. When I don’t move, he leans down and lowers his voice for my ears only. “Show them your claws, little raptor.”

For some reason, his nickname for me adds a layer of emotional armor. It’s as though he’s on my side instead of the Order’s. I’m sure my thoughts are nothing more than a product of my stress, but I don’t care.

“They want your fear. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

Xavier’s words float in my mind like a mantra, a war cry. I lift my chin and straighten my spine. I won’t let them break me. They won’t get my fear.

But they can have my fury.

“No.” My refusal rings loud and clear.

Xavier moves quick as lightning. From one blink to the next, he grabs me by the waist and slams me onto the stone surface. The air whooshes from my lungs, making me gasp. I let instinct take over.

Like a feral animal, I attack him. My nails scrape his arms and hands, adding to the scratches that I put there earlier when he choked me. Only this time, I’m enraged.

I reach for his mask and try to rip it from his face, a message to the Order that I see beyond their games of manipulation. Xavier is as immovable as the stone underneath my spine. And just as cold.

He digs his fingers into my shoulder, pinning me down. Ignoring the pain of his grip, I swing wildly with my free arm and land a solid blow to his jaw. He grunts and leans closer, making it difficult for me to hit him again without any leverage.

“Not bad, but not good enough,” he says, his gaze locked on mine.

His words are an echo of our past, the first thing he ever said to me. The silent challenge floats in the air between us. I don’t answer, saving my energy for fighting him.

I shove Xavier and writhe beneath his hold as he hovers over me. He presses his body into mine to overwhelm my movements and subdue me. At the chill of metal encircling my wrist, I scream.

It’s not a sound born of pain, but of rage.

The sensation of being bound is a stark reminder of his ability to overpower me. To bind me to him. I can’t give in.

Between my struggles and my fist aimed at his face, he retrieves another manacle that was concealed on the other side of the altar. The moonlight glints off of the metal, creating a malevolent piece of jewelry. I renew my efforts to get free.

Xavier snaps the second manacle in place. The click reverberates in my chest, signaling my defeat. I stare up at him, unable to look away when he reaches for me.

He curls his long fingers around the neckline of my dress and tears it in one swift motion. I jolt at the fabric ripping, the sound violent to my ears. The cool night air grazes the exposed skin, beginning at my shoulder and stopping at the swell of my breast, just above my nipple.

I meet his gaze, not bothering to conceal the defiance in mine. He takes a step back, and the small action has my muscles tensing, every part of me coiled like a spring ready to snap.

I stare in disbelief at the chains and yank on them, testing their slack. There isn’t much give to them. My chest rises and falls rapidly at the realization that I’m truly bound. The night air is heavy, the atmosphere filled with expectation. But not mine.

“Fuck you!” I scream at the recruits. At the Order. At Xavier.

His silver eyes remain fixed on me as he slides his signet ring from his finger. I scrunch my face in confusion, until he dons a glove and withdraws a pair of metal tongs from the brazier.

With precision, he uses the tool to clasp the piece of jewelry and lowers it into the fire. The flames lick at the metal, the reflection winking at me ominously. The face of the ring changes from gold to amber.

“No.” The denial is silent as I mouth the word, my voice muted in horror.

Xavier holds the tongs away from us as he reaches down to palm my throat. He rests his forearm against my chest, keeping me still. My heart pounds so loudly I wonder if he can feel its pulse on his skin.

He strokes the side of my neck, his tender caress not visible to those around us. I stare up at him, bewildered and trembling. He leans down and whispers in my ear, his voice shaking. “Forgive me.”

Before my next breath, he shifts and presses the ring into my shoulder. His face becomes a blur as the smell of burning flesh hits the air. Pain sears me, traveling along every nerve-ending I possess and sparking them with agony.

I open my mouth to scream, but the pain is too great. It’s like a collar on my throat, cinching it off from speech and oxygen.

Xavier removes the ring from my skin before ripping off the glove. I can’t pay attention to him as the burning sensation continues. A high-pitched ringing echoes in my ears and I clench my teeth until my temples throb, refusing to cry out.

Although I can’t stop my tears from falling.

He enters my line of sight, his features slowly coming into focus as he takes my face between his hands. I blink away the tears to clear my vision, unsure if I’m imagining the trembling of his fingers against my skin.

Through the mask, he stares down at me. His eyes are liquid silver, swirling with torment and something else. Something too deep and intense for me to decipher.

“Votum meum tibi1,” Xavier says, keeping his focus on me. His voice drifts over me like a stream of cool water, but underneath it is a raging sea, trying to pull me into its void.

The council member clears his throat and steps forward. I want nothing more than to close my eyes and escape reality for a single moment of reprieve, but I don’t. I push past the pain radiating from my shoulder and glare up at the older man.

He ignores me to stare at Xavier, his eyes narrowed behind the mask. “Speak your vow to me, recruit.”

Xavier’s entire body goes rigid, and his hands briefly grip my face before he lets them fall away. Slowly, he straightens to his full height and meets the gaze of the council member, head held high. The look in his eyes almost makes me forget about my injury.

It’s not an oath, but a promise of death.

The council member doesn’t move. He watches Xavier, his eyes squinted in irritation. Then his gaze flits to me.

“Say the vow again,” he says, his words a sneer. “And this time, do it correctly, or you can start the ritual over.”

My skin prickles with fear and dread, mixing in with the ongoing pain. Is he serious? I look to Xavier, trying to gauge if he’s going to brand me again. I can’t go through that without giving them what they want. My fear is running rampant.

The seconds tick by, each one feeling like an eternity has passed. Finally, Xavier juts his chin, an act of defiance.

I wilt internally and fist my hands at my sides. I’m screwed.

“Votum meum illi2,” Xavier says.

The older man stiffens. After a moment’s hesitation, he replies. “Votum tuum receptum est.3”

I bite the inside of my cheek, unsure what transpired through the exchange. Did Xavier subdue the man’s aggression or stoke it even further? And what does that mean for me?

So many questions and fuck all answers.

1?My vow to you.

2?My vow to her.

3?Your vow is accepted.