Chapter 15
Rose
I check my phone again to make sure there’s no update.
Tonight is the party Liam invited me to—an exclusive gathering where he promised I’d finally see what Wolfswood is really about.
Part of me wishes I had declined. But another, more restless side—the one tired of feeling like an outsider—knows I have to go.
Gabriel gave me this piece of advice, too. I need to make friends with the other students. And what better way of doing it than a party?
At three o'clock sharp, there is a knock on my door. A woman with immaculate silver hair and kind eyes introduces herself as Helena, my stylist for the evening. She wheels in a rack of dresses and sets up what looks like a professional salon in my dormitory room.
"Miss Devereaux," she says, studying my face with an artist's eye. "We're going to make you look radiant tonight."
For the next two hours, Helena works her magic. She washes and styles my hair into elegant waves that cascade over one shoulder. Then she applies my makeup—immaculate and natural-looking. When she holds up the mirror, I barely recognize myself.
With her keen stylist’s eye, she selects a midnight blue dress with delicate beading. It’s stunning, exquisite, and completely unlike anything I’ve ever owned. It flows like water, smooth and weightless. When I slip it on, Helena nods approvingly.
"Perfect," she declares. "You look like a movie star!"
Only a few minutes later, Helena packs up her supplies and leaves me with some final instructions about posture and poise. After she leaves, I sit on my bed, checking the time every few minutes until Liam's text arrives:
Meet me by the east gardens at 8.
I realize that I forgot to ask Helena what coat I should wear, so now I have to make this decision on my own. I choose my black overcoat, even though it doesn’t go that well with the dress. It’s snowing a little outside, and this December is colder even than winters in England.
Since Liam didn’t want to pick me up, I walk across campus alone. Everything feels surreal. I’m cold and hyperaware of how different I look, how different I feel. Other students make their way in the same direction, all dressed with the same expensive elegance.
And then I spot him. Liam is waiting exactly where he said he'd be, leaning against a tree with his hands in his pockets. When he sees me, his entire face changes.
"Rose," he says, pushing off from the tree. "You look incredible."
"Thank you. Where exactly are we going?"
He gestures toward a path I've never noticed before, one that winds through a section of overgrown hedges.
"It's a surprise. But trust me, you're going to love it."
We walk in comfortable silence at first. Other students emerge from various paths, joining us. I recognize some faces from my classes, but they all seem different tonight. More confident, secretive somehow.
Our path leads to an old chapel tucked away in the far corner of the institute’s grounds. It’s smaller than I imagined—crumbling stone on the outside, stained glass windows dulled by time. Inside, I hear music and bursts of laughter echoing through the space.
"This place has been here since Wolfswood was founded," Liam explains as we approach the entrance. "It's where the real traditions happen."
The chapel has been transformed into a party space. Red bulbs cast pools of warm light across the room. Along the edges, tables groan under the weight of expensive food and drinks. Students lounge on velvet cushions, vintage couches, and antique chairs that were brought in just for tonight.
The atmosphere is beautiful and decadent. I've never experienced anything like that.
Liam immediately guides me toward the bar and presses a crystal glass into my hand. "Try this. It’s cognac," he says. "A family recipe."
The liquid is golden and burns slightly as it goes down. I take small sips while Liam drinks much more freely, glass after glass like it’s plain water. His movements become looser with each glass, and it makes me uncomfortable.
"So what do you think?" he asks me, now standing too close.
“I don’t know yet. I mean, I’ve been to college parties before. When I was at Kings’, back in London. But they were pretty regular. You know, a normal party at a pub or in someone’s apartment. This is… so different.”
I look around and notice the other students completely at ease, as if they've done this hundreds of times before. Some dance to a psychedelic music I can't quite identify. Others are engaged in intense conversations that are paused when outsiders approach.
"You're so beautiful, Rose," Liam repeats. "I've been thinking about you constantly since I asked you to come here."
I step back slightly to make some space between us. "I'm flattered, but—"
"But what?" His eyes are bright with alcohol and something else I don't like. "Don't tell me you have a boyfriend! Come on! You can’t all have a boyfriend!!"
Before I can respond, another voice cuts through our conversation.
"Oh, how precious."
I turn to see Cassandra approaching. She looks absolutely stunning in a form-fitting emerald dress. Her smile is predatory, and I immediately feel my defenses rise.
"Good evening, Cassandra," I say carefully.
"Oh, don’t play the polite bitch from England!" she snaps at me immediately.
“I’m not playing. I actually am a polite bitch from England,” I reply.
My comment left her speechless for a second. Love it.
Cassandra looks me up and down, briefly assessing me.
"I have to admit, your makeover is impressive. You almost look like you belong here."
"She does belong here," Liam says, but something is off in his tone.
"Does she? That's interesting, considering you were saying just last week how amusing it would be to bring the orphan girl to one of our gatherings."
My stomach drops. I look at Liam, whose face has gone red.
"That's not—I didn't mean—" he stammers and starts hiccuping.
"Oh, but you did," Cassandra continues, clearly enjoying herself. "You see, Rose, Liam here is my ex. And he has very peculiar ideas about entertainment."
Blood drains from my face. I feel like I'm going to be sick.
"I thought you should know what you're really dealing with," Cassandra says, and her voice is dropping to a whisper. "This isn't charity, darling. You're the prey."
“So… you didn’t actually want me to come to the party, Liam? I’m just a piece of entertainment for you and your ex-girlfriend?”
Before he can answer, I look around, surprised by an odd movement.
Around us, the party continues, but I'm beginning to notice things I missed before. Some students have disappeared into alcoves. Intimate conversations have grown quieter. The atmosphere that seemed so sophisticated started feeling tense, dark.
As I watch this transition and try to process what Cassandra just said, I begin to understand what kind of gathering this is. The realization hits me like ice water.
This isn't just your regular student party.
I look around the old chapel, expecting a fancy Wolfswood tradition—speeches about legacy, oaths.
.. Instead,fear and the feeling of alienness start crawling under my skin.
My nerves are on edge, and my entire body is taut as if I’m being chased by a ghost. I panic, and my thoughts fly to Gabriel.
I wish he were here to calm and protect me.
But it’s just me, and now Liam, who’s already slurring his words as he keeps getting drunker by the minute.
Cassandra has left and is now heading toward the far corner of the chapel.
I stare at the room, holding my bag tightly in my hands. People are starting to fuck out in the open, in every spot. On couches, against walls, and on the floor. I can feel my face burning as the shock hits me hard.
I turn to Liam and try to make sense of this.
“Liam, what is all this?”
He sways, unable to control his movements because of the alcohol, and his drink splashes onto the floor.
“Nah, Rose, this is—hiccup—the real deal. Wolfswood’s elite—hiccup—is letting loose. You like it, huh? It’s sexy as hell. How could you not—hiccup—like it?” he asks me stupidly, burping as he talks.
I can feel disgust in every fiber of my body.
“You didn’t tell me it was… an orgy. Is everyone involved in this?”
He leans so close to me that I can smell the stale alcohol on his breath.
“It’s how we bond, babe. Power is in—hiccup—pleasure. You fuck, you make a deal, and you climb the ladder toward more money and more power. Do you want to— hiccup—join? You’re hot enough.”
I step back. “No, of course I don’t. This is messed up. Is this how you secure power? By sleeping with each other publicly?”
“Well… We have to—burp—network somehow…” he drains his glass.
“You could network somewhere else! But this?” I point at the scene around us.
People are glued to each other like leeches.
Their hands wander on each other’s bodies in ways that aren’t subtle.
To my left, only a few steps away, a girl from my history class, about twenty-five, is on a couch.
Her skirt is up, and a guy’s fingers are buried deep in her pussy, thrusting slowly while she moans loudly.
My face gets hot, and I look away, but it’s everywhere. By the bar, another girl is sucking a guy’s cock, her lips sliding up and down, his groans mixing with the clinking of the glasses.
In the middle of the chapel, an entire group is sprawled on the floor, their bodies tangled like in a hideous painting. I can see dicks buried deep in pussies, mouths on clits, cocks in the girl’s asses, and everyone fucking like it’s something mundane.
This is a real life orgy. The elite of Wolfswood are letting loose in a way that makes my skin crawl.
These people think they’re untouchable with their billions, fucking behind closed doors. I’m a Devereaux, but I don’t want to be like them. Still, some part of me watches their shamelessness with a strange kind of curiosity.
I watch as a guy pounding a girl against a wall—her legs are spread, her pussy is wet, and her screams are wild. I know that I will have to process all this, I just don’t know how.
Without thinking about what I’m actually doing, I take out my phone and start filming. It’s all blurry, but at least I have some kind of video that I can analyze later. Perhaps even write a paper about it. Slowly, I move the phone from left to right and try to capture everything I can.
Suddenly, Liam, in his drunken state, grabs my phone and slams it on the floor.
“What the fuck are you doing, orphan?! You’re not allowed to film. God, Cassandra is right about you. You really are an idiot!” he tells me in between hiccups and burps.
He tries to step on my phone to crush it, but I manage to get it off the floor before he does.
“Alright, alright! I didn’t know! I’ll stop filming, but you don’t have to break it! God!”
His eyes roam over my dress, making me feel gross.
“God, you’re such a dumb bitch… But you’re a Devereaux, so I guess you gotta play the game. I can show you, Rose. I can be your guide. I can teach you—burp—What do you want, huh, Rose? Do you want to—hiccup—suck my cock or something? I know how much you bitches like my cock…”
His attitude makes me sick to my stomach. The way he thinks I’m both stupid and beneath him—yet still wants to sleep with me—leaves me disgusted.
“I’m not playing anything. This isn’t my world, Liam. And I definitely don’t want to even see your pathetic, shriveled excuse of a cock.”
“Suit yourself. But you’re missing out.”
“Are you under the impression that giving you a blow job is some kind of prize? You smell like vomit, and you look like an old sock!”
To my surprise and further shock, he unzips his pants and takes out his penis. It’s much smaller than I even anticipated.
He grabs my hand and directs it toward his private area.
“I said no!” I snap, turning away. I need to get out, away from this twisted elite shit, back to Gabriel and his peace.
But Liam stumbles closer, his eyes glassy now, his tie loose.
“Rose, you look… fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he hiccups and mumbles, and his hand is brushing my arm. I pull back, creeped out by his leering. “Relax, this is how it works here. Power, pleasure, it’s all connected. You gotta join in to belong.”
“I’m not interested, Liam,” I say, stepping away. He’s drunk, not violent, but his pushiness grates on me. I want nothing to do with this.
“Come on, you’re one of us now. Let me show you how—hiccup—fun this can be.”
“Back off, I said! I’m not playing with you, Liam! This is a warning!” I snap, and my voice is sharp. “I’m here to learn, not… this.”
I gesture at the orgy, my stomach turning as another couple starts fucking nearby, her ass bouncing as he thrusts.
“Well, like I said. You are a dumb—burp—bitch.”
He finally leaves me alone and joins one of the fucking groups. I watch as a girl immediately starts sucking his dick, even though it’s not even hard. It looks like she’s trying to French kiss a gummy worm.
Feeling overwhelmed, I know I’m not staying here. This world is too twisted and dark. I don’t fit in, and I’m okay with that.
Before I leave, I take one last look around the chapel. Cassandra is at the far end of the room, wiping her mouth. I didn’t see her doing it, but I’m sure she just gave someone a blow job.
I slip toward the door and keep my head down, trying to avoid Liam’s sloppy wave. He’s still getting a blow job, and he’s still not hard.