Chapter Twenty-One
KYRA
T he classroom slowly fills with my classmates. Students are chatting with one another as they make their way to their seats. There isn’t any assigned seating, but everyone tends to stick to their usual. Mine is the third row, slightly to the left of center. I got an earlier start to the day, so I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes, laptop open and editing my paper.
Professor O’Clery strolls in without a word and drops his leather bag by his desk. He moves to the giant chalkboard and picks up a piece of chalk. No greeting or small talk to the class, he just moves the chalk on the board and then takes a step back.
DELPHIA
He moves back to the board and underlines the word then turns to face us.
“Were the oracles the voice of gods… or were they just pulling the strings?”
No one says a word but the energy in the room shifts. It’s one of the things I love about this class. He grades on class participation and it’s too easy to participate when he starts a class like this.
“People traveled from all over to hear a woman tell them things they already suspected.” He walks up to the podium. “The question remains, was it really fate or were they just looking for permission?”
A few people murmur behind me, questioning where this is going. I stay focused, knowing he’s getting to something.
“Your final papers are due in two weeks.” His eyes scan across the room, flickering to everyone. “Are you a historian?” His gaze turns to me then continue to sweep across the room. “Your papers shouldn’t just be reporting what we can read about in other books. I expect you to take a stance and interpret the past like an oracle would. Speak in riddles if you have to.”
There are several laughs in the lecture hall at that comment.
“The oracles were messengers.” One of the girls speaks up behind me.
“Were they really, though?” the professor questions.
“No, they were just hyped up on drugs or incense or something.” Another guy nearby speaks up. I think his name is John, he’s one of the students who requested to write about the gladiators for the big paper.
“So why did people want to hear them?” Professor O’Clery smiles then rubs at his salt and pepper beard. He clears his throat and waits to see who will speak.
“They weren’t just messengers,” I speak up and I can feel all eyes on me. “People didn’t travel to hear the gods.”
“That’s literally what the oracles were about. Messages from the gods,” John interrupts.
I laugh. “No, they came to hear what they already wanted to hear.” I turn to face him. “They wanted their desires reflected right back to them, wrapped up in a bow of mystery.”
The professor stays silent, watching and listening. I think he truly enjoys the discussions in this class. It’s why class participation is such a huge part of the grade.
“The oracles were supposedly bribed. So, who is really in charge?” Another girl nearby speaks up. She’s soft-spoken. “It’s like modern day politics. Someone says they’re doing it because God told them to. Was it really God or was it their desire to make something come to fruition?”
“Or both?” The professor adds.
Was it someone’s desire to make something happen or fate? It’s the same question I’ve been asking myself about whatever is happening between me and Ares. We need to end things before I become a bigger mess. It’s already going to hurt being around him without being with him after being with him. It feels like I’m drowning.
My inner turmoil takes over and I’m quieter than I mean to be for the rest of class. The conversation continues around me, but all I can do is think about the other night. I can only avoid Ares for so long. If I stay away, nothing else can happen. It’s all too easy to melt for those eyes. I need to end things before I fall too deep—if I haven’t already.
Class ends and I sit in my seat a few moments longer. Everyone packs up their belongings, but I take my time closing my laptop and gathering up my notes. I’m not trying to linger, I’m simply lost in thought.
“Kyra, do you have a minute?”
I glance up to see Ryan. He’s standing just a couple feet away, holding a stack of papers. He’s wearing a soft smile on his face so I can’t help but wonder what this is about. I look around and see it’s just the two of us left in the room.
“Sure.” I pack up the rest of my stuff and grab my bag to stand. I don’t mind taking one minute, but I can’t let him think I can simply hangout when I have another class to get to.
“How have you been?”
“Fine and you?”
He rubs at the back of his neck. “I was thinking and I needed to tell you.” He takes a breath before continuing. “I miss you. It’s weird not talking all the time like before.”
“School keeps us both pretty busy.” I laugh.
“We were so good together. Everyone thought so.”
Is he serious right now? “I think we’re better off just friends.” Not that I’m even sure about that in this exact moment.
“Kyra, think about it. Who else has as much in common as us? Between history and Greek life on campus.”
“Ryan.” I shake my head. “Friends have things in common.”
“Would you be willing to give me a second chance? Please.”
Before I can answer. I hear the door creak open. We both turn to face the door.
“There you are.” Ares glide in the room like he owns it. “We’ve got some family business to discuss.”
His sleeves are rolled up. A signature look that always has me admiring his tattoos and hands. Those damn hands I want on me. He looks calm and collected, but when I meet his eyes. They are not calm.
“Hey. We met at her birthday party.” Ryan speaks up, clueless. “You’re her stepbrother, right?”
Ares doesn’t even look at Ryan. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Nope,” I say quickly. “Not at all.” I turn to Ryan. “Sorry, family business and then class.”
Ryan looks confused but shrugs it off. “Yeah. Sorry to keep you. See you around.”
I quickly walk away and move to leave the classroom. Ares walks with me down the hall in silence. He doesn’t say anything.
“What are you doing here?”
“You weren’t returning my texts,” he practically growls before pulling me into a storage closet. I hear the door shut and lock.
I squeak as he presses me up against a wall. “I was in class.”
Ares leans in close. “I missed you.”
“It’s been two days.” I don’t want to admit I missed him too.
We can’t be doing this anymore. If this keeps up, our parents are going to see right through it this weekend. The thought slips my mind as he presses into me. His hands are squeezing my side, lips hovering. “Kyra, you’re mine.”
My eyes snap to his and I barely inhale before his lips slam into mine. He swallows my gasp. I hear his buckle and then the zipper before I’m lifted. My legs lock around him as he pulls my panties to the side and thrusts inside of me.
“Mine,” He growls out as he pulls out partially and thrusts back in. “I own you, Kyra. Just like you own me.” His arms keep me up as he moves. “Fuck, you feel so good. I can’t go a day without being inside of you again.”
I whimper, unable to form coherent words. His words hit me as deep as his cock does. We’ve crossed a line we’ll never be able to return from. How can something so wrong feel so right?