Chapter 18 Mara
EIGHTEEN
MARA
I’m sprawled across my bed in sweats and an oversized hoodie, half-heartedly working through a political theory assignment that’s due tomorrow. Zane left twenty minutes ago after our study session devolved into him trying to get me to admit I’m thinking about Dredyn.
I wasn’t thinking about Dredyn.
Much.
“Coming!” I call, assuming it’s Zane coming back for his forgotten water bottle. I don’t bother checking the peephole, just swing the door open with an easy smile that dies the second I see who’s standing there.
Chase Harrington.
He’s dressed like he stepped out of a Brooks Brothers catalog—charcoal slacks and crisp white button-down rolled to the elbows. His blond hair is perfectly styled, and his smile is the kind that probably makes sorority girls weak in the knees.
It makes my stomach turn.
“Mara. I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Every instinct screams at me to slam the door in his face, but years of political training kick in. I force my expression into something neutral, polite. “Chase. This is… unexpected.”
“Your father asked me to check on you.” He leans against the doorframe. “Make sure you’re settling in well at AGU. You know how he worries.”
Bullshit. My father doesn’t worry about me, he worries about his image, and I’m part of that image. But I can’t say that, so I smile instead. “That’s thoughtful, but unnecessary. I’m fine.”
“I can see that.” His eyes sweep over me, lingering just a fraction too long on the way my hoodie hangs off one shoulder. “Though, I have to say, the campaign trail Mara, and this”—he gestures vaguely at my sweatpants—”are quite different.”
The way he says it makes my skin crawl.
“I’m allowed to be comfortable in my own dorm,” I say, keeping my voice light even as I grip the door tighter.
He straightens, and for a second I think he’s going to leave. Instead, he says, “Of course you are. Why don’t we take a walk? It’s a beautiful afternoon, and I’d love to see the campus. You can show me around.”
I know that tone, I’ve heard it from my father a thousand times—the polite phrasing that masks a command. If I refuse, he’ll mention it to my father.
So, I swallow my resistance and nod. “Let me grab my shoes.”
Five minutes later, we’re walking across the main quad. Students are scattered across the lawn—studying, playing frisbee, soaking up the October sun. Chase keeps his hand on the small of my back as we walk, a gesture that probably looks gentlemanly from a distance.
Up close, it feels like a leash.
“Your father and I have been having some interesting conversations lately,” Chase says, his tone conversational. We pass a group of girls who definitely recognize him. They whisper and giggle behind their hands. “About the future. About what comes after the election.”
“Oh?” I keep my eyes forward, trying to create distance without being obvious about it. His hand presses harder against my spine.
“He’s very focused on ensuring certain… alliances remain strong. The Syndicate values stability, Mara. Predictability. Your father understands that.”
The way he emphasizes your father makes it clear he’s talking about more than politics.
“I’m sure he does,” I say carefully.
We reach the fountain at the center of the quad, and Chase guides me to sit on the stone edge. He sits close, his thigh pressing against mine. When I try to shift away, his hand catches my wrist.
“I like you, Mara. You’re smart, beautiful, well-connected. You’d make an excellent partner for someone with the right… vision.”
My mouth goes dry. “Chase—”
“Your father thinks so too. In fact, we’ve been discussing the possibility of a more formal arrangement. After the election, of course. Once things settle.”
The world tilts sideways.
Arrangement.
He means marriage. He means me, packaged up and delivered like a political favor.
“I’m in college. I’m not—I don’t—”
“You’re a Black, which means you understand how this works. Your family needs strong allies. The Harringtons can provide that. And you…” His thumb strokes the inside of my wrist. “You need someone who understands the pressure. Someone who can protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“Everyone needs protection, Mara. Especially pretty little rebels who think they can play dangerous games without consequences.”
My blood runs cold.
He knows.
About OCK. About the boys. About all of it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t insult my intelligence. You think I don’t have eyes on this campus? You think I don’t know about your study sessions with Omega Chi? About Dredyn Steele and his little pack of degenerates?”
“They’re just—”
“Dangerous. Men like that don’t care about you, Mara. They care about rebellion, about breaking rules. You’re a novelty to them, a trophy. The President’s daughter, slumming it with the bad boys.”
“That’s not—”
“But I care. I care about your future, your reputation, your safety. And I’m prepared to ensure all of that remains intact… if you’re smart enough to accept my help.”
“What does that mean?” I whisper.
His smile is ice. “It means you stop playing games with boys who don’t understand the stakes. It means you remember who you are and what you owe your family. It means when your father asks you to be gracious and receptive to the Harrington family’s interest, you smile and say yes.”
He releases me, standing smoothly and offering his hand like we’ve just had a lovely conversation. “Now, shall we continue the tour? I’d love to see the library. It’s been years.”
I take his hand because I don’t know what else to do. My mind is screaming, but my body moves on autopilot, letting him guide me across the quad toward the library steps.
We’re halfway there when I see him.
Dredyn.
He’s standing near the student center, maybe fifty yards away, frozen mid-step. Even at this distance, I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands have curled into fists at his sides. His dark eyes are locked on Chase’s hand holding mine, and the rage on his face is unmistakable.
Talon appears beside him, saying something urgent. Jasper’s there too, hand on Dredyn’s arm, clearly trying to hold him back.
Chase follows my gaze and sees them. His smile widens.
“Friends of yours?” he asks, loud enough that I know Dredyn can hear even from here.
“Chase, please—”
“It’s fine.” He pulls me closer, his arm sliding around my waist in a gesture of unmistakable possession. “Let them look. Let them understand.”
Dredyn takes a step forward and Talon grabs his shoulder, pulling him back. They’re arguing—I can see Talon’s mouth moving rapidly, see Jasper signing something.
Chase’s fingers dig into my hip.
“Wave to them. Smile. Show them you’re exactly where you belong.”
I don’t want to. Every cell in my body rebels against it.
But Chase’s grip tightens, and I think about his threat—about what he could do to them, to me, if I don’t comply. About the Syndicate’s reach and my father’s ambitions and all the ways this could go wrong.
So I lift my free hand.
I wave.
I watch something shatter in Dredyn’s eyes from fifty yards away.
Then, Chase is guiding me up the library steps, and I’m letting him, and I hate myself for it. Hate the smile plastered on my face. Hate the way my body moves when he directs it, years of compliance training overriding every scream of protest in my mind.
At the library entrance, he finally releases me.
“You did well. Keep doing well, Mara, and everyone stays safe. Your boys, your reputation, your future. Play smart,” he says, like he’s praising a dog.
He presses a kiss to my temple and then he’s walking away, down the steps, pulling out his phone like he’s already moved on to more important things.
I stand there, shaking, watching him go.
When I finally turn back toward where the OCK boys were standing, they’re gone.
But I know they saw.
I know they saw me smile and wave and let Chase Harrington put his hands on me like I belonged to him.
And I know, with sick certainty, that everything just got infinitely more complicated.
I go back to my dorm, lock the door, and sit on the floor with my back against it, trying to breathe through the panic clawing up my throat.
My phone buzzes.
Unknown:
We need to talk. Tonight. The basement. Midnight. Come alone.
Unknown:
This is Dredyn. Don’t bring your fucking boyfriend.
I stare at the message until my vision blurs.
Boyfriend.
That’s not what Chase is. Not yet. Not ever, if I have anything to say about it.
But the way Dredyn wrote it tells me he already sees it as inevitable.
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe I’ve been fooling myself thinking I have any choice in this.
I type and delete five different responses before finally settling on:
Me:
I’ll be there.
His response is immediate.
Dredyn:
Good. We’re going to discuss boundaries, Hellcat. The ones you just let that asshole cross.
I close my eyes, phone clutched in my fist.
At 11:45 p.m., I slip out of my dorm in dark jeans and a hoodie, keeping to the shadows as I make my way across campus to Greek Row.
The OCK house is dark except for a few lights in upper windows. I slip around to the side entrance, the one that leads to the basement. The door’s unlocked.
Dredyn stands at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, every line of his body radiating controlled fury. Talon and Jasper flank him, equally angry, but quieter about it.
“Mara, want to explain what the fuck I saw today?”
I close the door behind me, descending the stairs.
“It wasn’t what it looked like.”
His laugh is harsh. “Really? Because it looked like Chase Harrington had his hands all over you. It looked like you smiled and waved at me while he marked you like property. So please, enlighten me. What was it actually?”
“He showed up at my dorm—my father sent him. I couldn’t… I didn’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” Talon says coldly.
I wrap my arms around myself. “Not in my world. Not when saying no means my father hears about it. Not when Chase made it very clear he knows about you—about us. About all of it.”
That gets their attention.
Dredyn’s eyes narrow. “He threatened you.”
“He threatened all of us.” I force myself to meet his gaze. “He said if I’m not ‘gracious and receptive’ to the Harrington family’s interest, things will get complicated. For everyone.”
Silence.
“Complicated… That entitled piece of shit thinks he can threaten what’s mine and call it ‘complicated’?”
Talon’s hand reaches for me, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at him. His green eyes are cold, calculating. “Let me make something very clear, Princess. You don’t belong to Chase Harrington. You don’t belong to your father. You don’t even belong to yourself anymore.”
His fingers tighten just enough to make me gasp.
“You belong to us.”
Jasper moves behind me, bracketing me between the three of them. His hands settle on my hips, possessive and unyielding. When I try to turn to look at him, Talon’s grip keeps me facing forward.
“He touched you, put his fucking hands on you. Marked you like property in front of me.” He steps closer until I can feel the heat radiating off him. “Do you have any idea what I wanted to do? What I’m still going to do?”
“Dredyn—”
“I’m going to break every bone in his hand . . . One by one. And then, I’m going to make him watch while we remind you exactly who you belong to.”
“Chase Harrington doesn’t get to have you. Your father doesn’t get to sell you. The Syndicate doesn’t get to use you.”
“We do,” Dredyn finishes. His hand fists in my hair, tugging my head back. “Only us. Say it.”
“I’m not property,” I whisper, but even I hear how weak it sounds.
Dredyn’s smile is all teeth. “You’re right.
You’re not property, you’re a queen—our queen.
And we’re going to burn down anyone who tries to take you from us.
But first, you need to decide something, Hellcat.
” His dark eyes bore into mine. “Do you want to play nice? Be daddy’s good girl?
Smile for Chase and let them auction you off to the highest bidder? ”
“No,” I breathe.
“Or, do you want to tell your father to go fuck himself? Do you want to watch us destroy anyone who tries to control you? Do you want to be ours—really ours—consequences be damned?”
My heart is hammering so hard in my chest I can barely breathe.
This is the moment—the choice.
Good daughter or something darker.
Cage or chaos.
I look at each of them—these violent, possessive, utterly unhinged men who’ve somehow become the only thing I want.
“I want to give them all the biggest ‘fuck you’ they’ve ever seen. I want to watch it all burn.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Oh, Princess, you have no idea what you just unleashed.”
“Welcome to the war.”
“Now, go back to your dorm,” he orders. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow, you smile for Chase if he shows up. You play nice for your father. You be the perfect, political princess.”
“And at night?” I manage.
His grin is feral. “At night, you’re ours to ruin.”