Chapter 37 Mara
THIRTY-SEVEN
MARA
Ever since the last event with my dad a few nights ago, my mother has been calling me nonstop. She’s ordered me about a half a dozen dresses to try on so she can approve one for Tuesday night.
This election is just a formality—everyone in the room on both sides knows it. Even the men being dressed up like the prized pigs know it.
It doesn’t matter what they preach, what their constituents argue about on social media. When my father’s opponent loses by a certain amount of electoral votes, he will concede and my father becomes President of the United States.
The Syndicate will have yet another successfully rigged election under their belt.
It’s happened for decades—as a way to keep the narrative they want going. To keep the country in check.
And when my father sits in that Oval Office, it won’t really be his chair. It will belong to them. He’ll smile for the cameras, give speeches about the American dream, while every decision is already signed and sealed in rooms we will never be allowed to see.
That’s power.
It can move borders, topple markets, and bury bodies without ever leaving a trace.
Milo will be next. He’ll be groomed and polished until there’s not a single crack of personality left. Then, they’ll set him on the conveyor belt to D.C. like a toy soldier. He’ll inherit the kingdom if he plays their game right.
My brother, the Syndicate’s next mouthpiece.
And me?
Well, I’m not meant to rule anything; I’m meant to decorate it. The dutiful daughter turned trophy wife. Smile wide and play the perfect bride to Chase Harrington. I’ll be photographed on his arm, and our children will join the parade eventually.
It’s all a game. Rigged and bloodless on the surface, but pull back the curtain and it’s just as violent as the fights that happen in war zones.
I am their perfect pawn.
But pawns don’t win. Pawns get sacrificed.
And I’m sick of being the Syndicate’s princess.
“So, that’s why this plan has to work—it’s going to work,” I announce, my throat swallowing hard as I keep my chin steady. “I want to tear apart the perfect image of me. I want to…” My pulse skitters as I lose my train of thought.
For a moment, there’s only the hum of the fireplace inside the Omega Chi Kappa study.
The three of them exchange looks, and my cheeks heat as I realize how that sounded.
Embarrass my father? What I really mean is to embarrass myself, in the most public, scandalous way.
A flicker of fear licks up my spine. Can I actually go through with this?
The image of Father’s sneer hardens my resolve.
Yes, I have to. I need to shatter this gilded cage he’s trapped me in, even if I get cut on the flying shards.
Talon breaks the silence with a low chuckle. “Careful, Princess. Once you crawl in the dirt with us, you don’t get to climb back onto that throne.”
My mouth dries as I try to think of something to say. Jasper leans forward where he sits, his eyes averting their gaze. He doesn’t think this is a good idea. I can tell just by the way he’s leaning.
“I’m sure. I want them to know. I’m done being their perfect daughter. I’m choosing this. I’m choosing you.”
“If you need out, the safeword is—”
“Blackbird,” I finish. “I know. I won’t need it.”
Talon steps closer. “This isn’t us forcing you?”
“This is me forcing you. Put the collar on me. Now.”
I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath in until I feel Dredyn’s chest press flush against my back. The feeling of cold metal slides around my throat. His fist closes at the base of my neck, pulling me back against him.
“You want to scorch Daddy’s picture of you?” His mouth is in my ear. “Then we’ll give him a new one. His perfect daughter… on a leash.”
Across the room, Talon grins. “Kinky little rebellion,” he murmurs, his hand adjusting himself through his jeans—shameless, already hard from the thought.
Dredyn tugs the chain once. “They call us the Syndicate’s grunts—their bitch boys. They forget who really runs their empire. Maybe it’s time we show them. We’ll take their princess, and we’ll taint her in Omega Chi colors until there’s no innocence left to save.”
“Picture it, baby. Our collar on your throat, their cameras are rolling, and every perfect little pearl you wear smashed into dirt,” Talon says, now standing beside Dredyn.
Jasper’s gaze drags down my body, lingering on the metal digging into my throat, then flicking to Dredyn’s hand fisted in the chain. His jaw tightens. “Let them watch. Let them film it. They’ll see what happens when the Syndicate forgets who really owns Ashen Grove.”
“You’ve got some nerve, Mara,” Talon purrs, circling me slowly.
I feel like prey under his gaze, my skin prickling.
“Do you even know what you’re asking for?
Once we do this, that sweet little Daddy’s Princess image of yours will go up in flames.
There’ll be no going back.” He stops in front of me, tilting his head. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
I lift my chin. “It’s exactly what I want.” The wobble in my voice betrays the coil of dread in my belly, but I don’t look away.
“You’re shaking,” he murmurs. He’s right, I am. I’m vibrating with adrenaline, and I can’t tell if I’m more terrified or thrilled.
“Maybe our girl likes the idea of being on her knees in front of the whole school a little too much,” Talon taunts softly, so close I feel his breath on my cheek.
His free hand drifts to toy with a lock of my hair.
“Always thought you had a secret kink under that prim facade. This what gets you wet, Mara? Being treated like a pet in public?”
“Do you have any idea what your father will do when he finds out?” Jasper signs. “He’ll come down on you—on us—with everything he has. He threatened to pull you out of school for much less. This . . . this will be open war.”
“That’s my decision to make,” I reply.
Dredyn’s protectiveness wars with his anger—I see it in the tight line of his shoulders. He’s furious at the idea of Father yanking me away again. And we all know that’s exactly what’s going to happen.
He steps closer, towering over me. “It’s not just you, Hellcat,” he growls, using that nickname that usually makes my stomach flip. “If he comes for you, he comes for us. You’re under our protection now.”
“I never asked to be kept in bubble wrap. I’m not safe no matter what I do, am I?”
Talon barks a short laugh. “And you think publicly humiliating yourself, and him, will make him back off? Bold strategy. After this? There is no fake. You wear our collar in front of the whole campus and you’re ours. Not just for show. Not just until Daddy’s reelection party is over. Ours.”
“Say it, Mara. If you agree, there’s no going back. No Syndicate game, no pretending for your father’s cameras. Just you . . . and us.”
“One word,” Dredyn growls. “You say it, I buckle this, and you belong to Omega Chi. Not as a pawn, not as Daddy’s golden girl, as ours.”
Every nerve in my body screams to hesitate, to cling to the mask a little longer. But the mask has already shattered in shards at my feet. I can’t deny the pull anymore. The fear, the fire, the hunger—it’s all tangled together until I don’t know which part of me is trembling.
I swallow hard, my voice trembling but clear. “Yes. I want this. I want… you. All of you.”
Dredyn smirks, savage and satisfied, and fastens the buckle. The click detonates inside me.
Talon whistles low, shaking his head like he can’t believe I actually said it. “There it is. Daddy’s princess just sold her soul.”
Jasper doesn’t look away from me, not once. His stare is unrelenting, and what I see there makes my pulse trip—hunger, possession, the absence of doubt.
And me? I’m shaking, but not with fear anymore, with the undeniable truth. Whatever we started as, whatever game I thought we were playing, it isn’t fake anymore.
I am theirs.
The quad stretches out ahead of us, busy with students milling about between classes. Laughter and chatter float on the air. None of them have noticed Mara Black with a collar around her neck and Dredyn Steele holding the leash. My stomach does a flip as I wonder how long that will last.
The answer is, not long at all.
Talon strides on my left, a spring in his step as if this is a casual midday stroll.
Jasper walks to my right, his pace measured, eyes alert.
And Dredyn leads in front of me, holding my leash firmly.
The three of them surround me like an honor guard for the damned.
My face is already burning and we haven’t even reached the throng of students.
We turn onto the main path that cuts across the grassy quad. A group of girls coming from the library halt in their tracks a dozen yards away.
“Oh my God!” is followed by hushed squeals and the unmistakable sound of a phone camera shutter snapping.
My thighs squeeze together—hungry, wet. God, what is wrong with me?
Whispers ripple out like shockwaves as we progress. Every few seconds I catch snippets of their conversations.
“Is that Mara?”
“What the hell?”
“No way…”
A few people actually laugh in disbelief. Others just stare, slack-jawed. A flush works down my neck and I bite down on my lower lip hard enough to taste blood, but I refuse to make a sound.
Dredyn stops abruptly near the center of the quad, and I almost bump into him. He turns around to face me. “Kneel,” he commands.
Heat floods my body as I sink back onto my heels, knees apart on the ground, my palms coming up off the concrete to rest uncertainly on my thighs.
Anyone standing close could probably see a flash of my black panties if they looked.
A spike of pure mortification spears through me .
. . followed quickly by that now-familiar lick of arousal in my belly.
Students are definitely looking now.