8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
I spent the next few days in classes or wandering aimlessly around campus, killing time and doing everything I could to stay out of that apartment.
Being around Connor, Malcolm, and Kade meant dealing with their taunts and snide remarks and glares, and that heavy, twisting pull inside me that I couldn’t get rid of. No matter how terrible they were to me, that desperate, wanting heat lingered, maddening and inexplicable.
It burned hottest with Malcolm, his touch rough and demanding whenever I veered within arm’s length. With Kade, his hatred of me rolled off of him in waves, making me feel like he couldn’t stand that I breathed the same air as him. Even Connor, with his cold dismissiveness and the way his anger flared, seemed to draw something needy from deep inside me.
It made me sick. Why did I feel that low buzz in my blood, like electricity in my veins, whenever one of them looked at me? What did it say about me that I flat-out craved people who treated me like dirt?
Every night, while I touched myself, biting my hand when I came so they wouldn’t hear me, I fantasized about one of them. Then I cried myself to sleep with Mom’s words rolling around in my brain.
Find out everything you can about the Lifewell. Do whatever it takes. Don’t trust anyone.
What had I found out? Nothing, except Dean Bennett and Connor didn’t want me to find out anything. What was I doing about it? Nothing.
But even when none of the guys were around, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was never truly alone. Every time I turned a corner in the halls, it felt like I’d stepped under a spotlight, hot and scrutinizing.
I’d glance around, convinced I’d catch someone watching, but there was never anyone there. It was just me and the prickle at the back of my neck, the tingle slicing down my spine.
I’d tried flirting with random classmates, hoping someone, anyone, would bite—literally and figuratively—because I was starving for teeth scraping against my skin while they stretched my pussy nine ways from Sunday. But no one did.
I even went to Xander’s office, under the guise of thanking him for the clothes—they had to be from him, right?—and certain I could at least get him to let me blow him again. But Ms. Tissdale was always adamant that he was unavailable.
But I did discover a ritual on campus that, day after day, became impossible to resist. The threesome in the library hadn’t been a one-off.
The twins—the dark-haired, identical but not-quite-twins with their piercing eyes and strange way of moving like they were connected by both their brains and pussies. Every day, at the same time, they’d slip away into the depths of the library’s third floor, moving quietly and in sync, never looking back or checking if anyone saw.
They didn’t need to. That part of the library looked like a maze of abandoned stacks and towering bookshelves, the perfect place to get lost. And for me, the perfect place to hide and get a free show.
Today, the twins circled the old prof as they stripped naked for him in a slow, practiced rhythm. They moved together, in perfect sync, peeling off shirts and slipping out of skirts, the purple haze swirling around them like a tornado of shimmering lust. His back always faced me, and I wondered just how old he was. In his sixties? Seventies ?
I mean, I’d still hit it.
One twin pushed the other against the shelf, their lips finding each other’s with a desperate urgency I could feel, while the professor ran his hands over their bare shoulders and down their backs.
I shouldn’t have been here, shouldn’t have been watching this private moment, but I couldn’t look away. I’d already rooted myself to the spot, my heart racing, my skin sweaty as my breath fell into rhythm with theirs, the quiet gasps and sighs filling the air.
I bit my lip, feeling that familiar, powerful heat stirring low in my belly. The hands-free, spontaneous orgasm always came. Always.
Every day was the same. I told myself I wouldn’t come here, that I’d go to one of the study carrels where I could actually do some classwork or reading, but I couldn’t resist. I’d find myself racing to the third floor before they even got here and slip into the shadows, hiding behind the shelves, waiting for them to appear.
And every day, I’d watch, caught up in the same twisted spell, my heart racing. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find a hiding spot at the right angle to give me a view where I could actually see the professor’s face.
Sometimes I’d close my eyes and imagine myself with them, imagine those fingers on my skin, those mouths trailing over my body, me at the center of it all. I’d picture the twins pressing me up against the cold metal of the shelf, their mouths on my neck, their hands spreading my thighs for the professor to plunder my cunt. All the while, their purple haze would surround me, pulling me into their dark, private world.
It was insane. I knew that. But each time, the pull to go to them felt stronger, as was the orgasm. It was a drug and, well, addiction ran in my genes.
Afterward, I’d slip away, my cheeks flushed, my pulse throbbing as I walked back through the library, hoping no one would see the dazed look in my eyes or smell my sex-soaked panties. I always got away, unseen, unnoticed.
Until today.
Coming down from the high of my climax, I glanced up, with that someone-is-watching-me feeling washing over me again.
But this time, someone was.
The professor.
He’d turned around, facing me.
His gaze roved over me, intense and…familiar?
My heart skidded to a stop, freezing me in place. A red-hot flush burned through me. Every instinct screamed at me to look away, but I couldn’t, not from the steady, almost curious way he stared at me, like he’d expected me all along.
In that moment, I saw him clearly for the first time. He wasn’t ancient, like I’d let myself believe. He had a sharp jawline, smooth, unwrinkled skin, piercing dark eyes. Much younger than I’d thought. Older than me, yeah, but not old old. Maybe in his forties.
It was ridiculous to assume he was an elderly man just because he had stark-white hair. If anyone should’ve known better, it was me.
Self-consciously, I tugged at my new blonde wig and whipped around, stumbling out from behind the shelf, my heartbeat drowning out the muffled sounds of their voices. I practically flew down the staircase, my footfalls echoing as I took the steps two at a time, too fast, too panicked.
Embarrassment still burned my cheeks as I turned the corner, almost sprinting down to the main level, desperate to put as much distance between me and that stare as possible.
That’s when I collided with someone hard enough to knock us both off balance, the books they’d been carrying scattering everywhere. I looked up to find a gorgeous girl with gorgeous red ringlets blinking back at me, a mixture of surprise and amusement in her wide, blue eyes.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” I crouched down to gather the books I’d sent flying out of her arms.
“No worries,” she replied, laughing a little as she reached for a book. “Happens to me at least once a week.”
Her tone was easy, her smile soft, as I handed a thick, worn volume back to her.
She took it, and I returned her smile, though mine felt too shaky.
What if the professor and twins were getting dressed and planning to chase after me?
“I’m Tuesday,” I blurted.
The girl gave me a curious look, a grin tugging at her mouth. “Tuesday? Nice. My favorite day of the week. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times, right? Sorry for being so lame. I’m Lena.”
There was something warm and unguarded in her expression and in her voice that was almost unsettling. I sure wasn’t used to friendliness.
“Hi, Lena. Sorry again for the ambush,” I said.
“Guess you had someplace important to be.” She raised an eyebrow, her smile never wavering.
“Something like that.” I shrugged, hoping I looked casual, though every cell in my body braced for the sound of the door opening and closing at the top of the stairwell and footsteps clambering down towards us.
Do not look over your shoulder. Wrap up the small talk and get the fuck out of here.
Turning, I waved. “Anyway, good to meet you, Lena.”
“Oh, wait.” She tilted her head. "You want to grab a coffee? I mean, some other time since you’re in a hurry to get some—”
“I would love to!” I blurted.
She laughed again, but not unkindly. “Caffeine deprived?”
More like companionship deprived. Conversation deprived.
“Yes,” I said. “Ah, shit. I don’t have any money, though.”
“My treat,” she offered.
“I couldn’t—”
“You can.” She bumped my shoulder gently with hers. “You’ll get it next time.”
I nodded. I still needed to find an on-campus job. I made a mental note to check every bulletin board I passed. Certainly, someone needed a tutor until I could find a steady gig.
We ducked into a small coffee shop beside the dining hall. Whenever I passed by, the scent alone beckoned me, but I’d never been inside. Having no money really sucked.
As we waited for our drinks at a small round table in the corner, Lena started telling me about a project she was working on for one of her classes.
“I’m researching this centuries’ old secret society, the Vitae Sovereigns,” she explained, brushing a red curl behind her ear. “Supposedly, the Vitae Sovereigns control the Seven Forces of Life.”
Noting her use of the word control—present tense—I raised an eyebrow. “The Seven Forces of Life?”
“Abundance, Passion, Appreciation, Appetite, Rejuvenation, Dignity, and Indignation,” she rattled off.
The server delivered our lattes, and we thanked her. My mind worked as I took my first sip of hot, milky goodness.
Dignity…pride. Indignation…wrath. Passion…lust. Appetite…gluttony.
I definitely noticed a pattern here.
Rejuvenation…sloth. Abundance…greed. Which would make appreciation…envy.
“So, basically the Seven Forces of Life are the Seven Deadly Sins with a better publicist?” I asked.
Lena laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. Anyway, there are supposedly seven Vitae Sovereign, each a god of one of the Life Forces.”
“Huh. I don’t believe in God or gods,” I said, despite that I’d prayed to one several days ago. “What class is this for anyway? Some kind of mythology?”
She shook her head. “Local Folklore and Regional Heritage. It’s a history course.”
I almost choked on my next sip. “ Local folklore?”
She glanced around at the mostly empty coffee shop and then dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, as if sharing a massive secret. “Supposedly the Vitae Sovereign are here. At Whispering Ivy.”
I snorted, practically spitting the hot liquid from my mouth. “Gods? Real-life gods here at Whispering Ivy?”
Lena fiddled with her mug, studying me with a thoughtful expression. “Yeah, it’s kind of absurd.”
Kind of?
“But Whispering Ivy has this way of making me question things, though. I don’t know what it is about this place, but…" She chuckled, almost self-consciously, her porcelain cheeks coloring. "I’ve been feeling like a total maniac since I first got here back in September. My sex drive is out of fucking control."
I laughed, strangely relieved. “Same, girl. Same. It’s like they pump hormones into the ventilation system or something.”
“I know, right? Like, I’ll be sitting in class, minding my own business, and suddenly it’s like, why is everyone here so fuckable? It’s distracting as hell.” Her blue eyes gleamed with mischief as she leaned toward me. “I broke a dildo last night. How is that even possible?”
I laughed even harder, and tears leaked from my eyes. “I wish I had a dildo. Broken or not.”
“Like a loser, I didn’t bring a back-up. But…that’s the thing that makes me wonder if there’s any truth to this whole Vitae Sovereign thing. If the god of passion is here, that would make sense that we’re so horny, right?”
“Uh…”
“And it’s not just my sex drive. Everything seems heightened here. Rejuvenation… I sleep better. Appetite… I stay hungry.”
As if agreeing with her, my stomach growled.
She laughed. “You, too, huh?”
Staying away from the apartment meant no delicious dinners, so I’d only been living off a single meal from the dining hall a day and whatever I could swipe from the fruit bowl when the kitchen was empty. Before I came to Whispering Ivy, that was more or less the same amount of food I had back at home on an average day.
But here… Yeah, I had to agree with Lena. I was constantly starving.
She sat up straighter, a big grin on her pretty face. “Let’s have cinnamon rolls. They have super yummy ones here.”
God, that sounded good. I swallowed down a moan. “I can’t let you—”
“Yes, you can,” she insisted, already hopping up. “Be right back!”
She headed to the counter, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Vitae Sovereign. I knew enough about history and languages to know that Vitae meant life.
The Seven Forces of Life.
Life.
Life well.
What were the odds that Lena’s Vitae Sovereign, the Seven Forces of Life, and the Lifewell were all connected?
Lena returned then with enormous cinnamon rolls slathered with cream-cheese frosting.
I groaned at the sight of them.
She laughed. “See? Told you.”
I broke off a chunk of the gooey delight and shoved it into my mouth to keep my burning questions down. Was this a coincidence? A set-up? Maybe Xander or Connor had sent Lena to see if I would disobey them and keep pursuing the Lifewell? Or have Lena steer me in the wrong direction so I would never discover what the Lifewell truly was?
If it was a set-up, I wouldn’t fall for it.
“How are you researching these Vitae Sovereign people anyway?” I asked between bites.
I’d learned that not only were there no laptops for rent, there didn’t seem to be any computers on campus, period, other than the one Ms. Tissdale was constantly taking out her life’s aggressions on and the one in Xander’s office. Not only was there no cell service, but there was also no Wi-Fi. No internet. Whispering Ivy was basically a Luddite’s wet dream.
Lena nodded at the pile of books she’d been carrying when we bumped into each other, now sitting in the chair next to hers. “Mostly old texts from the library, which is why I was there. There’s not really any up-to-date info.”
I glanced at the spines of the books, trying to memorize the titles so I could check them out after she returned them, but they looked so old and worn, I couldn’t even see a title.
But wait. If this were a trap, if Xander or Connor had sent Lena to pique my curiosity, to see if I’d ask her about the Lifewell… Would they have sent her with books that actually gave the answers I was seeking? So maybe it wasn’t a trap, or her Vitae Sovereigns had nothing to do with the Lifewell.
We lingered there for a while, and Lena got us each a second latte and a second cinnamon roll. We chatted about surface-level stuff, like the weird architecture on campus that didn’t require students to go outside and our favorite music.
For the first time since I’d arrived at Whispering Ivy, I actually felt like a normal person, worthy of someone’s company and attention. No passing strangulations or gropes from Malcolm, no tension from Kade, and no Connor leaning against a wall with disdain in his eyes and something half chewed sticking out from his full lips. Just me and Lena with her soft laugh and her wide, innocent eyes.
Plus, she actually seemed to listen when I spoke. And I gave her the same attention in return, instead of fantasizing about humping my cinnamon roll or the barista. Or her.
But, as if on cue, a shadow crossed the table. I looked up to see Connor, hands in his pockets, what was left of a pencil in his mouth, and that ever-present unreadable expression on his face.
“Connor,” I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. “What a coincidence, running into you here.”
His brown eyes shifted to Lena. “Was passing by and saw you through the window.”
“My lucky day,” I said sarcastically.
A pit formed in my stomach. So much for making a friend on campus. Connor hadn’t shown up by accident. This was definitely all a set-up. He’d known exactly where I’d be and who I’d be with because he’d arranged it.
Fucking bastard.
Was it him watching me, following me, making the back of neck always prickle at every turn?
Either way, that fucking bastard.
“Mind if I join you two?” Without waiting for a response, he pulled up a chair and sat down.
I shot him a glare, which he ignored.
Lena looked between us, eyebrows raised, clearly picking up on the tension.
“Hey,” she said to him. “I’m Lena.”
“I’m uninterested,” he said, his voice flat, without breaking his gaze from me.
I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, Connor. You don’t have to be so rude.”
He remained perfectly still, his gaze unwavering from my face.
An awkward silence fell over the table. I squirmed in my chair. What the fuck was this?
“So, Connor…” Lena started, “how do you two know each other?”
“How do you two know each other?” he countered.
“We live in the same apartment,” I told Lena, then to Connor, I said, “And none of your business. Can you please go?”
He didn’t move.
We sat there in strained silence until it became too much for Lena, I guess, or Connor sent her some secret signal that her duty here was done.
“Well, I have a class,” she said, gathering her things with a smile. “Tuesday, it was so great hanging out. We should do this again sometime.”
“Yes, definitely,” I replied.
“Nice meeting you, Connor.” Lena gave him a polite nod before disappearing out the door, leaving us alone.
Was it their first time meeting, though? Whispering Ivy was a small college.
The second she was out of earshot, Connor picked up the abandoned spoon next to my
mug and examined it as though checking its worth and durability to chew on. “It’s time to go home.”
Home. I didn’t have a fucking home.
“Excuse me?” I glared at him, crossing my arms. “I’ll go back when I feel like it. Not when you say so.”
His eyes narrowed, and without another word, he grabbed my arm and practically dragged me out of the café. I wrenched free once we stood in the hall, spinning to face him, my face flushed hot.
“Don’t you ever put your hands on me like that!” I screamed. “ Ever !”
He laughed softly, the sound dark and mocking. “Or what?”
His face hardened, and he took a step forward, backing me up until I pressed against the cold stone wall. His hands braced on either side of me, trapping me. As I lifted my knee to fuck him up between his legs, he easily sidestepped. Then he plucked the pencil from his mouth, leaned in, and kissed me.
Hard.
The shock of his mouth on mine hit me like a lightning bolt, and for a moment I froze, too stunned to do anything. But then I found myself melting into him, gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as his lips possessed mine with a ferocity that sent a shiver down my spine.
When his tongue touched mine, I swore I died for a moment, and I died happy. I could feel our souls touching.
What the shit?
My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat, my chest, between my thighs, every inch of me alive with that maddening, inexplicable need. My knees were literally weak with it.
Apparently, at Whispering Ivy, it’s not as simple as fight or flight or even fight, flight, or freeze. It’s fight, flight, freeze, or fuck, because before I even realized what was happening, my hands found Connor’s waistband.
I was ready to go, right here out in the open, in front of all seven of Lena’s imaginary gods.
But just as quickly as he’d started, Connor pulled back, his breath ragged, his gaze dark and angry.
Oh god. I’d unzipped his jeans.
He yanked the zipper back up, looking at me with disgust.
“I didn’t kiss you because I want you,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I kissed you to shut you up. I’ve got a headache, and the sound of your voice is driving me insane.”
I gazed downward and…shit. Unless he had a micro-peen, he wasn’t even hard.
Even though that had been the best kiss of my life.
My cheeks burned, embarrassment flooding through me, but my lips still tingled from the kiss. I wanted to lash out, shove him away, but the rush in my blood made it impossible to focus. I stared at him, every nerve buzzing, unsure whether I wanted to slap him or pull him back in.
But as he stepped back, letting me go, the shred of self-respect and the sliver of common sense I had kicked in.
That’s it , I thought. I’m done letting him and the others push me around.
So maybe I didn’t know the names of the board members to send the recording of Xander and me to. I could find that out. So what if I had to walk ten miles to get service to send it. I’d walk a hundred if it took that. Regardless of what he said, I did have something to hold over him, and I would use it. He would find me a place to live far away from Connor, Malcolm, and Kade, or else.
I let out a relieved breath, reaching down to pat my phone in my pocket…and froze.
My phone wasn’t there. Panic speared through me, and I patted my other pocket. Nothing.
I couldn’t believe it. I must have left it back at the apartment or somewhere on campus. In the library, maybe? Did I have it when we were walking to the café? It was pretty much useless here, except for checking the time, so when was the last time I had it?
Connor watched me, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Lose something?”
“Not your concern,” I muttered.
I swallowed my rising sense of alarm. My mind raced. Without my phone, I had no leverage, no proof of any impropriety, no safety net. Even worse, I couldn’t listen to my mom’s voicemails or look at pictures of her. The realization stung, making me feel small, exposed. And stupid. How could I have been stupid enough to let it out of my sight?
Connor gave me a satisfied smile, like he knew exactly what I’d been thinking. “Good. Now let’s go home.”
I walked back to the apartment with him, my feet heavier with each step, heavier with dread that my phone wouldn’t be in my room either.
My phone had been my ticket out of Connor’s apartment. If Xander wouldn’t move me out of there, I didn’t have anywhere else to go.