Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Mackenzie
I walk over to the wardrobe in my bedroom feeling like I have fluffy, white clouds floating around in my head. In my hands is plastic box of random stuff I’ve been sorting through for over two hours.
It shouldn’t have taken that long, but I swear I lost control of my mind the moment Dmitri’s lips touched mine.
It was just a kiss…
Just a kiss, a simple little kiss.
Yet the moment I think of kissing him, heat streaks through me like a potent dose of adrenaline.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a heartbeat, wincing at another poor attempt to lie to myself.
Now that a few days have passed and I’m back at Raventhorn, I know there’s no way on earth—no matter how many times I say those words—I’m ever going to believe that mantra. Because it wasn’t just a simple little kiss.
He full-on kissed me.
And the kiss was so much more than a kiss because he was kissing me.
If it was just a kiss, I wouldn’t still be thinking about it.
And my lips—and body—wouldn’t still be burning and yearning for more.
More of his kisses.
More of his touch.
More of him .
Kissing Dmitri and touching his rock-hard body was like getting the answer to some centuries-old riddle that mystified people for eons.
I can’t count the amount of times I’ve dreamed of him, and I like that. I won’t even try to deny that I’ve been in love with him my whole life. And it looks like I still am.
Kissing him was like breathing new life into my tired soul.
No one would believe me if they heard me speak like that because they think of me as the party girl who’s always the life of the group. But no one knows most of that is an act.
God. What am I going to do?
I reach the wardrobe, open the door, and stupidly shove my hand inside the shelf with the box. The sharp edge scrapes my skin, and I know even before looking at it that I’ve cut myself.
I pull my hand free. Yup, a bead of blood forms on the side of my hand. Great. Just what I need. “Damn it.”
“Hey, are you okay?” Mom pokes her head through the door and looks me over, her eyes narrowing in concern.
I thought she was in the kitchen making lunch. She’ll be heading back home in a few hours and wanted to cook one of our favorite meals before she left.
She escorted me to Raventhorn yesterday. Not because I asked her to but because that’s what she does—be there for me when I need her, and I’m acting like I don’t.
“I’m fine, just a scratch.” I hold up my hand and give her a small grin.
“Let me see that.” She comes in and examines my hand, frowning at the welt that’s formed along the line of the scratch. “Looks like more than a scratch to me.”
“Mom, please. It is just a little scratch. I’m fine.” I laugh it off and grab some tissue from the box on the desk to wipe away the blood.
Mom takes my hand and brushes her thumb over my knuckles. “Yesterday, you burned yourself. I’m almost nervous to leave you.”
“I’m fine,” I mutter, and she releases my hand.
I’ve enjoyed her company and support, but I don’t want her to start fussing over me. I fear she’ll see through me and peek inside my head like she always does. If she does, she won’t like what she finds. Me harboring feelings for the son of the man who accused my father of murder.
My lungs tighten at the crude thought. I try to mask my worries with another smile.
“You know I can stay another day or so, if you’d like me to.” She studies my face and searches my eyes as if double-checking I’m okay. “We could go to dinner in the city and maybe see a movie. Or we could hang out here and talk, or do some more decorating.”
She looks around my already beautifully designed room that she got a fleet of Boston’s finest to decorate when I started freshman year. It has a contemporary meets French Provencale design with the ivory wallpaper, vintage bed in the center, and a soft canopy of lavender and cream-colored drapes hanging gracefully over the bed and windows.
“Mom, this room does not need any sort of decorating.” I chuckle.
“I know, but it would give me something to do if you needed me to stick around longer.” A hopeful smile tilts her lips, and she stares back at me as though she hopes I’ll agree.
Mom is what you’d call a typical Stepford wife. She loves running a home to perfection and making sure nothing is ever out of place. Even me.
“Thanks, Mom. But you don’t have to stay. There’s a lot going on today, and I’m going to that party later, so I’d hardly see you.” The first two weeks of every semester are easy-going with a lot of social events, parties, and sorority gatherings. Tonight is a joint masquerade party put on by the Thetas and Sigmas. Everyone—including Dmitri—will be there.
“Okay.” She holds up her hands and lifts her shoulders into a small shrug. “I just thought I’d offer. But I’m sure you’re eager to see your friends.”
“I am. I’ve missed them.” We all went for ice cream after the show last week, and it was fun, but hanging out with my friends on campus is a million times better. Especially Isabelle. I didn’t get to talk to her properly the other night because everyone was there. I’m sure she’ll be pulling me aside later to talk to me.
“Will you be going to the party with Kyle?”
Oh, Lord , I forgot about him. My parents still believe Kyle owns the Valkyrie contract. “Yeah, we’re meeting up later,” I lie. I haven’t spoken to Kyle since last semester, and I doubt I will be going forward.
“That’s good. Are you two okay? I thought he would have come to see you perform over the summer, but I didn’t see him.”
“He was busy traveling with his family.”
“Okay. Well, I’m glad you get to see him today. You seem to like him a lot, which is great.”
“Yeah, he’s good to me.” I nod, trying to look like I can’t wait to see Kyle.
“Good.” Even though she sounds positive, uncertainty laces through her tone.
Unlike Dad, who called me out on my true intentions for the contract, Mom has been kinder. But she thinks the same as him. And she’d be right. What I did was an obvious attempt to escape their plans.
An awkward moment of silence passes between us, and I think of pushing the conversation about Kyle to the back burner, so I can ask her about Dad. I hate lying, and the first person who will see through my bullshit is my mother.
I heard her speaking to Dad on the phone this morning in a hushed tones, and I don’t think it was because she thought I was sleeping.
Dad is still in L.A. The trip that was supposed to take a few days is now coming up to a day over a week. Even though I know my mother is concerned about me, I suspect she doesn’t want go back to New York just yet to be home alone, or around her nosy, two-faced socialite bitchy friends.
“When is Dad back from his trip?”
“Probably later in the week.” I can see I’m right from the shift in her eyes. She doesn’t want to go home just yet.
“That’s a long time.”
“I know. He was hoping to be done by now. But you’ll see him in two weeks when we’re here for the fundraiser.”
They’re at Raventhorn regularly for fundraisers and other events because Dad is a major sponsor.
“Sweetie, don’t worry about your father. He just had a lot of work to do.”
“Mom, there’s no way you can’t deny that Dad has been acting weird. That whole marriage thing to Levi was insane.” My fingers curl around the hem of my sweater. “My career in ballet would have been over if I married him.”
She bites the inside of her lip and tries to school her expression so she doesn’t look as worried as I’ve seen her when she thinks I’m not watching. But she fails. That uncertain look in her eyes is still there. “Sometimes, your father doesn’t think things through. But I promise he didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I don’t know about that. Besides, things don’t feel right. I sense that something is going on and the two of you are keeping it from me.”
“Sweetheart.” She steps forward and rests her hands on my shoulders. “Just stop and take a breather. Your father and I have everything under control, and you don’t have to worry.”
“So, something is going on, then?”
“Something is always going on.” Her smile is thin and almost forced. “That’s how business works.”
“Are you sure it’s just business?”
“Yes. Business.” She nods, but I can’t tell if she’s lying, like Dad was.
“Is Dad trying to find another suitable match for me?”
She exhales a harsh breath. “Yes.”
Damn it. I knew it. For all I know, Dad could be in L.A. trying to match me with one of his business partners or someone I don’t know. “Do you know who he has in mind?”
“He hasn’t shared that with me yet. But don’t be surprised if he says no to Kyle.”
My chest caves, and I think of the nightmare I’ve landed myself in with Dmitri. “What has Dad said about Kyle?”
“He doesn’t like him, sweetheart, and he doesn’t like the contract. He wants someone lined up for you as soon as it’s over.”
“And you seriously expect me not to worry?”
“Mackenzie, you’re an heir to a senior Knight, and this is your sophomore year. The year where everyone gets matched up. Your father and I were engaged by the end of our sophomore year.”
“But you knew each other from when you were kids. That’s way different.”
“Maybe so, but we still had to go through the whole engagement process. Look, neither of us wants you to worry, so please don’t. It will make me more worried about you. It’s hard enough leaving you here under the care of that man.”
She’s talking about Dmitri’s father. She mentioned him before and gave me a lecture on how to avoid him. Her advice was to keep my head down and work, stay out of trouble, and my personal favorite was to stay away from Dmitri.
“If I stay out of his way, I’m sure I’ll be okay.” At least I hope so.
“Yes. Just remember what I told you. Other than that, focus on ballet. You were amazing the other night.” She grins and releases my shoulders. “What am I saying? Every performance was amazing. I look forward to seeing more of what you’ll be able to do.”
“Thanks, I hope I can get the chance to.”
“You will. I’m sure that your father won’t jeopardize your future after last time.” Her voice softens to a wistful tone, like she’s hoping.
She acts as the buffer between Dad and me, but she’ll never go against him. She always agrees to everything. I hate that. But it’s her way.
“I hope so, Mom.”
“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”
Yeah. Dmitri.
But I could never talk to her about him. “No. There’s nothing.”
“Alright, let me get back to cooking.” She brings her hands together with a spark of hope in her eyes. “Maybe we can go for a little walk after we eat. I love walking around the campus grounds.”
“That sounds great. Registration starts at three, so we have time.”
“Good, let’s make the most of it.”
“Thanks for being here.”
“Always.”
She brushes my cheek with her fingers, gives me a gentle smile, and heads out of the room.
For a moment, I stare at the wall and think.
There’s a lot going on, but I can’t worry about everything. I think the best thing I can do for myself is take baby steps and focus on the most important thing on my mind—Dmitri.
I keep going around in circles in my mind and coming back to the same conclusion. That I shouldn’t take Isabelle’s advice.
Regardless of how I feel about him and what his intentions are, the sensible thing to do is ask him to release me from the contract. Release me and say goodbye.
I can’t see another way around it.
Maybe I’ll just have to take that kiss as a keepsake. And it will have to be enough.
Fear is a constant companion these days. Fear of never getting the chance to live my dream. Fear of wanting a guy I can’t have. Fear of crossing a line I can never come back from.
This is me being cautious.
Wanting Dmitri is a mistake I can’t afford.
I walk into the main hall of the Verge, the campus club, and admire the decorations. The Thetas and Sigmas always use the club for the joint parties because it’s the perfect venue.
The massive multilevels provide the perfect workspace to do anything they want.
Tonight, they’ve decorated the place in an old European style that reminds me of the classic castles in Romania and Italy. It perfectly matches the Venetian masquerade theme of the party.
Energy pulses around me in a swirl of sparkling lights, muted laughter and chatter, and glittering Venetian masks.
Everyone around me is dressed in their finest, wearing red-carpet-worthy ball gowns and suits. Those wearing decorative masks have selected the styles that have feathers and fur and diamantes.
Mine is a simple black lace mask that doesn’t do much to conceal my identify but matches the bodice of my mid-length A-line dress and my Louboutin heels.
I glance around the sea of students in search of my friends. And him— Dmitri.
Is he here already?
I look toward a group of Sigmas talking it up near the long casement windows. From their conversation, I can tell they’ve recently gone through initiation and became Knights. I recognize one or two of them. I went to high school at Raventhorn Academy with most people here, but even then, the student body was so vast that it was impossible to remember everyone’s faces.
Dmitri isn’t over there with the group. Nor is he with a group I spot talking to Caspian and Thorne Ivanov.
He and his friends either turn up just on time or fashionably late. Either way works because they make everything look and seem cool. It was like that in high school, too.
I don’t think he’s here yet. Even though I just arrived, I’d know by now from the attention he and his friends attract.
Like last year, there Verge has collaborated with Dark Odyssey—a sex club. So, as I look around, I catch glimpses of the sorts of risqué, racy plans they’ve yet to unveil for us tonight.
Most of the parties like these have some sexy element to them. As if to amplify a dark fantasy and highlight their differences between parties in the real world and parties here at Raventhorn.
I’ve actually been to Dark Odyssey before—I’m a little adventurous that way. Being that kind of adventurous can be good and bad in equal parts.
I first went to the club when I was seventeen. My then boyfriend, Dominic, took me. He was a guy I definitely shouldn’t have been with.
I actually met him at a party when I was sixteen. And I kept him a secret from my parents. He was five years older, not from the Knights, and loved danger way too much. I was with him right up until the summer before college began.
We broke up when I caught him cheating on me with my skanky cousin, Jennifer.
Honestly, we were heading toward the end anyway because of his dangerous lifestyle. Last time I checked, I heard he was in some scandal for drug trafficking, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he was in prison somewhere.
After Dominic, I became a lot more street smart and savvy. Given what happened to me with Tommy, I should have never been with a guy like him. But it was what I call my rebellious stage. It started when Dmitri got his first girlfriend and I realised I lost him and we were never going to be the way we used to.
I walk down the little set of stairs toward the display of flowers and pink smoke floating around it. There I find my friends. They’re standing by the chocolate fountain, talking away.
Isabelle, Annika, Savanah, and Sawyer are standing by the bar, wearing long elegant gowns and simple black masks similar to mine.
While Annika looks like she could be Savanah and Sawyer’s sister because they have the same platinum hair, Isabelle’s raven hair stands out from them.
She has it down in long waves, and I’m glad she’s swapped her usual Lolita-style dress for a champagne-coloured sleeveless gown.
I spot Eilish with her lilac hair in long curls over by the chaise. She’s talking with her best friend, Willow Raventhorn—the girl whose multi-great grandfather started the Knights.
Although the two are juniors, they’re very much a part of my friend circle. I’ve known them for years. I probably speak to Eilish more because she’s the Thetas’ student counsellor and were required to check in with her on a monthly basis.
Willow and Eilish wave at me. I wave back and head over to Isabelle and the other girls, who have now spotted me.
“There she is. Our star ballerina,” Savannah announces, and my circle of friends joins her for a little round of applause.
“Aww, you guys.” I smile back at them, appreciating them even more. “You’re too good to me.”
Isabelle skips up to me and links her arm with mine. “We’re just proud of you.”
“We are,” Annika and Sawyer say in unison and giggle because they spoke at the same time.
“How does it feel to be back to civilian life?” Annika asks, pushing her curly platinum-blonde ponytail over her shoulder.
“Strange. I’ll miss rehearsals and getting ready for the show.”
“You’ll be back before you know it.”
They all nod, agreeing with her.
“Yeah, I can’t wait.”
“Do you want to grab a drink?” Isabelle asks, motioning toward the bar across from us.
I take the question to be a hint she wants to talk to me away from the group, so I nod. I definitely need to talk. “Sure, I need something super sweet.”
“Then let’s grab some cocktails.”
“Perfect.” I look back at the others and give them a dazzling smile. “See you guys in a sec.”
They nod and fall into excited chatter about Annika’s upcoming wedding to Thorne Ivanov. That’s been a hot topic since their engagement a few months ago.
Arm in arm, Isabelle and I stride over to the bar. Once we’re there, she guides me to the corner of the counter where it’s clear all of the students are ordering drinks.
“Any news from Dmitri?” she asks, her eyes wide with anticipation.
“Yes and no.” Nervously, I bring my hands together and rest them on my chest.
“What does that mean?”
I lean in closer, mindful that I’m around people and I need to be careful of what I say. “He came to see the show.”
Isabelle sucks in a breath. “What? Seriously?”
“Yeah. I saw him backstage after. Just before I met up with you and the girls.”
“Oh my God. Why didn’t you tell me? That was days ago.”
“Because… uhm…” My voice trails off, and I feel so unlike myself. It’s like Isabelle and I have swapped bodies, and she’s become the confident goddess I used to be, whereas I’m the friend who needs relationship advice.
“Uhm, what, Mackenzie? Did something happen?”
I press my lips together and nod.
She brings her hands to her cheeks and her eyes bulge. “What happened?”
“It was just a kiss.”
Another gasp falls from her lips. “Oh my God. What do you mean just a kiss ? There’s no such thing. What else happened?”
“Nothing much. He said we’d talk soon. I haven’t heard from him since. I figured we’d see each other once we got back to Raventhorn.”
“Oh, Mackenzie,” she swoons with a little squeal, then she crosses her fingers on both hands. “Please tell me you’re going to see where this goes.”
My shoulders sag like weights are attached to them. “I don’t know. I feel stuck. I think I should stick to the plan.”
She frowns, pursing her glossy lips. “But this could be a good thing.”
“I don’t see how.” I keep circling back to the same answer that doing anything with Dmitri will be a disaster.
Isabelle’s about to say something more when something catches her attention.
I follow her gaze to the double doors on the first-floor balcony and see them.
The elite—Kade, Dmitri, Logan, and Alek.
The four of them are standing in the doorway like the gods of Olympus.
They didn’t even bother with the elaborate masquerade masks everyone else is wearing. Their masks are the skeletal, bone-white ones most of us recognise from high school when they were Hades’ Demons. It was cool, so I’m not surprised Alek has joined in with his own mask.
When they stride in, the room seems to hold its breath.
The hollow eyes and sinister grins on their faces exude power. The effect is almost jarring, like death itself has walked into a room full of living decadence.
Kade leads, the skull mask enhancing the razor edge of his confidence. But he’s looking straight at Isabelle—his wife-to-be—who looks like she’s about to melt into a puddle of water.
Again, I envy them. They’re not just in love, they’re crazy about each other in a way that inspires people to write songs and create art.
Logan falls in step with Kade with his devil-may-care swagger, Alek flashes a wicked grin at someone staring too long, and Dmitri…
His predatory gaze locks on me, hints at chaos just waiting to ignite.
My breath stills, and the walls of my mind tremble.
The weight of their arrival is palpable with whispers rippling through the room like an untamed current, but my focus is on the guy who’s had my head spinning.
The heat of his gaze pierces the distance between us, as if he's marking me as his next move. I realize he is when the group continues down the steps and he breaks away from them, making his way across the balcony.
Warm fingers touch my arm. It’s Isabelle.
I look back at her and find her smiling.
“Looks like someone wants you to follow him.” She lifts her chin toward Dmitri, who is still looking at me.
“I think so.”
“Go. Go talk to him.”
I nod.
Looks like that promise to talk soon is happening now.