Chapter 6
Parker
The letter comes in the second week of October.
It’s a night just like any other, except for when I walk into my room at the end of the day in a rush to collapse on my bed, and a crimson envelope is sitting on my pillow, the bold, gold lettering with my name scrolled across the front, feeling like a hot brand to my soul.
My mouth runs dry, and all the air in my lungs evaporates. I stand there, deadlocked with a fucking inanimate object like some dumbass, even if this object wields more power over me than anything else ever has. Including Mia.
When I finally get the will to pick it up, I flip it over, my thumb brushing across the wax seal, the letters CV looking back at me with ominous intentions. Crimson Veil. My back hits the pillows in front of my headboard as I collapse onto my bed.
Crimson Veil is Corvus College’s secret society.
There have always been rumors and whispers about what it actually is and what it entails: human sacrifices under the building I sit in now, occult rituals, blood oaths, and a slew of dark and disturbing theories.
But from what I do know from the history books is that Corvus College was founded in the early sixteenth century by a group of five: Abel Thorne, Edmund Mortwood, Francis Harrow, Isabel Ashcroft, and Cecelia Grimsley.
Intended to teach the unconventional, the dark, and the wicked, it made sense that the founding members started with a secret society.
Crimson Veil. Membership has been passed down through the direct family line of each name, while very slowly bringing in new members willing to make the blood oath, binding them and their descendants to serving the Veil.
The college itself is hidden and reclusive, the students keeping to themselves.
The grounds are shrouded in the middle of Massachusetts, with a forest of large oak trees on every side, and wrought iron gates on the perimeter.
It’s slightly tragic that Corvus is one of the oldest colleges in our country, and yet the history books rarely recognize it.
I turn the card over and over in my hand, swallowing down the lump in my throat.
It’s similar to the one I received in my senior year of high school.
Growing up in Hawaii, I had no idea that Corvus College existed—most don’t—until the day I received an invitation to attend, and everything kind of crumbled for a moment.
Corvus is an elite, invitation-only college, and while I have no idea how they pick the students to attend, and trust me, there are conspiracy theories on that as well, I understood more the day that letter came.
Being adopted as a baby, my parents didn’t know a whole lot about my birth parents, except for the one caveat of my adoption, that one day, an invitation would come for me to attend college, and that it would be fully paid for.
My only memories included island life at the time, and the idea of a fully paid tuition at a kick-ass school in the Northeast was too good to pass up.
Granted, I didn’t have much of a choice.
No one knows I’m a descendant of Francis Harrow, not even my best friend, Asher, not even the love of my life, Mia.
It’s a secret I’ve kept to myself since they told me I had the option to attend here last year, but now as I look at the deep red paper in my hand, I know there’s no avoiding it.
Ready to get this shit over with, I slide my finger under the wax and break the seal, opening the envelope and pulling out the thin parchment paper inside.
Your attendance is required at the Veil.
Come alone. Speak of this to no one.
Bring this letter. It will grant you passage.
Refusal does not free you from the Veil.
It only ensures you will never know what waits behind it.
Tonight. 8 p.m.
Sub velo rubro, veritas dormit.
“Under the red veil, truth sleeps.”
A loud knock at the door startles me, and I quickly look at my watch.
“Fuck,” I mutter, shoving the parchment into my back pocket.
I’m going to be fucking late. Just what I need today.
I quickly pull on my shoes, hopping over to the door as I lace them and whip it open.
I come face-to-face with the blond jock asshole, Silas Blackwood.
Literally the last person I’d want to run into when I’m already stressed.
“The fuck are you doing here?” I snap. Asher may be forced to play nice with him right now, but I’m under no such obligation.
“Hi, Parker. Glad to see you, too,” he says with a fake-ass smile.
“Where’s Asher? He missed our meeting and hasn’t answered his phone.
” Asher has been forced to tutor this big, dumb asshole, and I actually feel bad for him.
I think he should let him flounder and fail since all he’ll ever care about is rugby.
But Asher is a better person than I am. Probably helps that he’s being forced to tutor him since Silas is the son of the college’s president.
“Pretty sure he was up all night studying after being forced to spend his extra time trying to find your remaining two brain cells.”
Silas’ jaw twitches, the only tell that I’ve affected him. Ohh, that one got under his skin. Score one for Parker.
“Whatever. Where is he?”
“He’s down the hall, last room on the left. I’m late for a meeting, so get out of my way.”
Silas gasps like an idiot, covering his mouth with his hand. “You? Late? Someone call the police!”
“Do you know how to not be an asshole, or is that just your default setting?”
“Fuck off, prick.” How original.
I push past him, nudging him with my shoulder as I go. “You first, dickhead.”
I run through Crimson Keep, my heavy steps pounding against the hard stone floors, echoing off the bare walls.
Candles flicker in the sconces, dancing shadows reaching out for me.
I make my way to the large portrait of the five founders, following the directions on the parchment.
Looking around to make sure no one is watching, I push on the left side of the frame, finding a narrow stone archway.
Knowing I can’t get caught, I quickly step in, the frame falling back in place with a loud crank.
Nerves scatter and slither down my spine as I follow the steps down into the catacombs under Crimson Keep. I’ve heard about them before but never ventured to find my way into them. Dimly lit candles flicker as I walk farther into the heart of the school.
The end of the stairs opens up into a chamber with several narrow alcoves off each one.
Voices carry on the air, and I follow them, leading me into a gorgeous open room.
The floor is carved stone, the walls match, and ornate sconces seem to be built into the stones, each one holding a large candle.
I would expect a place that gets no fresh air to smell of musk, aged leather, or books, but there seems to be no scent at all.
I spot Leo Ashcroft standing off to the side of a group of people, his arms crossed at his chest, his shoulder leaning against the rough stone wall.
His hair is perfectly pitch black and reminds me of the ravens that flock at Corvus.
It’s styled expertly, pushed up out of his eyes, and I can’t help but wonder what he’d look like mussed and rumpled.
He’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, and based on the way they hug his crotch, I wonder if he’s going commando under there.
It’s hot as hell, and my eyes linger on his bulge longer than they should.
He’s got a plain Corvus College hoodie on with a pair of black Chuck Taylors.
Leo has mastered the whole looking hot without trying thing, and I hate him for it.
Ever since our little run-in outside his residence hall, I’ve kept my distance, not wanting to upset Mia.
But seeing him all riled up like he was definitely did something to me, my cock responded right away, perking up like it was eager as fuck to meet him.
I went right home and jerked off on my bed to images of him bent over in front of me.
There’s something about getting him all irritated and possessive of Mia that does it for me.
My eyes scan the rest of the ten or so students, hoping for a familiar face and coming up short.
I huff out an annoyed breath. It’s probably better to go through initiation with someone on your side than alone, but no one seems familiar to me.
As far as I know, none of us know what to expect.
Unless their parents passed along that bit of information to prepare them, something I’m seriously considering as a strong possibility as I look around and see how not freaked out everyone looks.
Fuck.
Resigned, I lazily head Leo’s way, stopping next to him. His scent immediately engulfs my senses, and I don’t hate it. All leather and spice. He doesn’t acknowledge my presence, just continues to brood, staring off into space. God forbid he makes this easy.
“You seem about as happy as I do about being here.”
“Don’t come over here and suddenly act like you give a shit, Parker. Fuck off.”
“Just saying, I figured with your last name and all you’d be thrilled as shit. Legacy and all that.”
“Fuck legacy. And what about you, where do you fit here? It’s clear where I do.
‘We’re Ashcrofts, don’t you dare disappoint us, son.
You’ll take your position in the Veil when the time comes, and our legacy will continue,’” Leo surprises me by saying in a deep, mocking voice.
Damn. I know I hit the jackpot with the whole adoption thing; my parents are incredibly supportive of me, but the alternative of being raised by parents connected to Corvus and Crimson Veil really sounds grim if they’re all like Leo’s.
“I’m here, aren’t I? Clearly, I have some descendants somewhere.” Like, my biological parents.
“Whatever, Parker. Just fuck off. Let’s stay out of each other’s way and survive this. It’s one year.”
I scoff, rocking back on my heels and crossing my arms. “One year? You’re joking, right? Once we take our vows, this is it for life. Us, our children, our grandchildren, every generation after that.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Trust me, I know it more than anyone. Just go stand over there or something. I don’t need people thinking we’re friends.”
“Oh, ’cause that would be the worst thing in your life right now.
Right, buddy? I got it.” I shake my head as I walk away from him, choosing to stand on the opposite side.
The group waits impatiently, wondering when someone will show themselves and explain what the fuck this all means and what’s actually going on.
Unless I’m the only dumbass standing here, clueless as fuck.
Fuck Leo. Fuck Crimson Veil. Fuck all of this.