Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Dmitri
I’m sitting next to Kade and the guys on the second row of the colosseum-style conference hall we use for student meetings.
We’re among the students who have gathered for the welcome back assembly.
There are at least two thousand students here, but to me, it could just me and her. Just like we were at the club—with the exception of the people beyond the walls fucking.
Mackenzie is sitting at the end of the row across from me. Today, she’s dressed in a mini pleated skirt and a fitted sweater that shows off the deep V of her cleavage.
I can’t stop looking at her.
I have to wonder if she wore that outfit to torment me. Then again, it wouldn’t matter what she wore today; I’d still be obsessing over her.
The other night, I had to hold back again. This time because I didn’t want to take her in the hallway of a club. I didn’t want our first time to be in a public place where I didn’t have her to myself. I don’t want to share her in any capacity.
When I have her, I want her moans of pleasure and cries of ecstasy to belong to me. That said, I’m cursing myself now for not doing it.
We’ve been sitting here for the last twenty minutes waiting for the hall to fill up, and I’ve been going crazy, my fucking dick aching in my pants to be inside her.
All I can think of is how she tasted and how she felt in my arms, unraveling at my touch.
She’s been glancing at me, too. But at least she’s being more careful than me because my father is on the platform below.
At the moment, his attention is focused on talking to Professors Seymour and Volkova, the head of the law and math schools. Like many of the teachers here, they all went to school together.
There aren’t that many teachers and officials in the Knights—including Aleksander Ivanov—who didn’t go to school with my parents.
We’ve reached that point in history where generations past and present have begun to meet.
My gaze drifts back to Mackenzie, and I catch her looking at me.
Tomorrow is Friday. I’ll get to see her then, after football training.
I plan to continue what we started at the club.
Worry riddles those sea-green eyes of hers the longer we stare at each other, smothering the confidence she usually exudes.
I expected her to worry. I left her with a lot to think about, and I practically dropped a bomb on her that bound her to me all six ways to Sunday.
I scared her when I gave the reminder of the blood oath, but I know I scare her anyway because she doesn’t know me anymore. Not the way she used to.
The Valkyrie contract was created way back when by a bunch of seniors who wanted to fuck with the system. The idea is to bind a girl to you for six months to a year, and she has to fulfil the contract. It’s not so much the contract that binds you. It’s the blood oath ritual, something that’s usually performed when a Knight is initiated, married, judged to death, or executed.
That’s why it’s binding, and whoever came up with the idea knew the dangers behind it.
The thing is, she was right to ask me to set her free. I just didn’t want to.
I stare at her, and I want to get lost in those lips again. I want to spread her out naked on my bed and eat out her pussy until she’s screaming my name, then I want to fuck her raw until it hurts, but even then, I’ll make sure she’ll be begging for more.
The slight nudge on my knee from Kade warns me that I’m looking too much, taking too much of a risk.
If he’s warning me, it means…
Slowly, I turn my head, and I find my father staring right at me. He’s watching me watching Mackenzie.
Fuck.
He hardens his gaze on me, the disgust in his eyes evident. Then he looks across at Mackenzie and gives her the filthiest look I’ve ever seen on a person.
Out the corner of my eyes, I watch the blood drain from her cheeks.
“Vareu tér, mievoreur. Tú ert of augljós,” Kade whispers in Old Norse, which translates to ‘ Be careful, linebacker. You’re too obvious .’
He’s speaking the dead language to me because he knows I’ll take it seriously. He also knows the guys just in front of us don’t understand what he’s saying. They’re freshmen who wouldn’t have been taught the full extent of the secret language of the Knights as yet.
I give him a curt nod and look back at my father, who is still looking at Mackenzie like she’s he wishes he could walk up to her and pull the life from her body.
Father blamed her for Tommy’s death. I don’t know how he thought that was okay.
He hates that she can’t remember what happened. And that she was the reason for the disaster.
Even if she could remember something to prove her father’s innocence, my father wouldn’t believe it.
He thinks she must have done something to instigate the situation, and he doesn’t have a high moral opinion of her. He’s the kind of man who would blame a woman if she were attacked or raped. He’d say shit like she must have brought it on herself or what did she expect if she was wearing revealing clothing.
More than once, I’ve heard him call Mackenzie a slut. He’s never done it in front of me. Despite the situation, he knows I wouldn’t stand for it, and he doesn’t want to provoke a situation like that between us.
Father returns his gaze to me, and I look away, staring ahead.
Focus and concentrate .
He doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know what I was thinking about when he caught me watching her.
He doesn’t know what I’m still thinking about.
He doesn’t know what I’m planning to do with her.
It’s not like I had my dick hanging out of my pants. Or my mouth open with drool sliding down my jaw.
And even if I was doing either of those things, my father can’t do shit to me. I’m a Knight, on the elite, and I’m a star athlete.
The most he could do is make life difficult for me and guilt-trip me about the past.
For all he knows, I could have been looking at Mackenzie because I hate her. He wouldn’t believe that entirely, but he’s never sure. That’s my leverage.
The truth is a part of me does hate her. But it’s not for the reasons he’d believe.
I hate that she can’t remember the things I wish she could. That she can’t remember parts of me, parts of us, parts of the truth about what Tommy did or didn’t do to her.
The hateful side of me is the side I need to work with when it comes to my father.
Aleksander Ivanov takes the stand, and silence descends on the room. It’s not the reverent sort of silence you expect from people who respect a person. It’s more out of fear for a man we consider a dictator.
As I stare at him and take in that mean-streaked look entrenched on his face, I wonder how many he had to kill to secure his position. How many did he kill to keep the secrets he has now?
It wouldn’t have just been me who noticed he’s not quite right. I’ve seen Kade and the guys looking at him, too, but we’re all so diligent and loyal we won’t even mention it to each other.
But that diligence and loyalty isn’t to Aleksander. It’s to ourselves. To protect our future and our secrets. Neither of us wants anything to mess with our lives, least of all him, the leader of the Knights.
It makes me wonder what I’d do to protect my own secrets. How far I’d go.
I have six months with Mackenzie, but I already know it won’t be long enough.
“Excellentiam contende in omni tempore, in omnibus locis, et in omnibus qu? agis,” Aleksander begins in Latin, reminding us of the college motto, which translates to ‘ Strive for excellence at all times, in all places, and in all that you do.’
“We’ve had one hell of a year with an assortment of accomplishments,” he continues. “This yea,r I want to be better than we were before.”
He’s off to a good start. He goes on to hash out his expectations, speaking fervently about our goals and greatness as we still outshine any Ivy League college.
He talks about football, basketball, swimming, and some of the other sports that make us renowned before he introduces my father as the new Lord Chancellor.
The students clap, welcoming my father onto the stage. I clap, too, to blend in, but I feel no allegiance.
I’m sure Mackenzie is doing the same thing.
When he begins his speech, I zone out and stare at the oil painting covering the wall behind him, depicting angels and demons in a deadly battle above the college campus.
I’ve always thought that painting depicted the people in charge here beautifully.
The artist captured the emotion behind the gothic architecture and monuments at Raventhorn of the forefathers and Viking gods dotted around the campus. But they also infused the painting with the desire for power, death, and the consequences of defiance.
I risk one more look at the girl who shouldn’t be on my mind, and I wonder what my punishment will be if our game of secrets is discovered.
Whatever it is, she’ll be worth it.
Now that I’ve tasted her.
No one is going to stop me from making her mine in all ways I want.
The sun beats down mercilessly on the field, the air thick with the scents of sweat, damp grass, and ambition.
The whistle shrieks, splitting the air like a gunshot. I plant my cleats into the turf, bending my knees and squaring my shoulders, my focus locked on the offensive line.
Every muscle in my body coils, ready to explode.
“Eyes up, boys! Move, you bunch of pussies! MOVE!” Coach Barrett’s voice booms from the sideline, his bark sharper than the whistle.
We move, and I run like the wind is attached to my feet. Peterman has the ball.
I need to get it to Kade.
Coach Barrett’s words were meant for everyone, but it feels like they’re aimed at me, drilling into my head like the pressure I thrive on.
The son of a bitch is also looking right at me with that sneer on his face. It’s because I missed the ball earlier.
I never miss the ball. But it happened in an unexpected split second when I was stealing a glance at Mackenzie. She was doing her routine with the cheerleaders, and I got lost in the way her body looked in her uniform.
The cheerleaders practice whenever the team does, so everything is as real as possible to game day.
We’re supposed to be so used to the cheerleaders that they become part of the furniture. It’s just difficult when you have one stuck in your head.
I’m seeing her after practice, and I can’t wait to have her all to myself. The craving to taste her pussy again has stayed with me all damn day.
I’m focused on the game now, but Mackenzie Domachenkov is never far from my thoughts.
“Dmitri!” Kade shouts from behind, his voice cutting through the chaos created when the ball sails through the air.
I don’t turn my head. I don’t need to. I know exactly where he is, and my job is simple: clear the way or die trying.
The ball comes my way, and it’s like the world slows down for half a heartbeat. I lunge forward, my arms thrusting into the chest of Illya Yurkov, the nearest offensive lineman.
He’s a tank of a guy, at least thirty pounds heavier than me, but I’ve got leverage because of my rage.
“Take him out, Valneko!” Coach roars at me. And I do. My forearms slam into Yurkov, and I feel the satisfying give as he stumbles back.
Another guy breaks through the line, angling for Kade. That’s not going to happen on my watch.
I pivot, shoulders low, and crash into him like a wrecking ball. He grunts as he hits the ground hard, grass and dirt flying up around us.
“Fuck, yeah!” Kade shouts speeding forward.
Then he gets the ball, and we all know the games over.
No one will be able to catch him.
“Go, go, go!” Coach Barrett shouts, his fists pounding through the air like he’s beating a drum.
Kade makes it to the endzone and scores the second touchdown.
The field erupts in cheers. Kade looks back at me, and we nod at each other. A separate silent conversation between us.
We‘ve been playing like that since we were five.
People used to joke around and say we were telepathic. Sometimes I believe them.
Kade runs back to me and gives me a high-five.
“I can’t wait for the championships to start.” He grins. “Ohio is gonna bleed.”
“Damn right.” We play Ohio first. They came close to winning last year. We won’t give them that chance again.
“Alright, men! Get over here,” Coach Barrett barks, summoning us over for a huddle.
We make our way over, and he begins his usual end-of-practice lecture.
Adrenaline still hums in my veins from my game play on the field, but it works through me in all sorts of different ways when I glance at the group of cheerleaders and see Mackenzie packing her things away.
Her long blonde hair gleams like gold under the sun, and her skin looks like porcelain.
She’s talking to one of the other girls, who is laughing at something she said. Mackenzie smiles, too, and it lights up her whole face, making her look more beautiful.
I was glad when she took up cheerleading in high school and even more glad when she decided to pursue it here.
Most of the girls here want to do it professionally after graduation, but everything Mackenzie does is to compliment ballet.
Whatever her reasons, it gave me a chance to see her.
It irks me that I’m not the only guy looking at her. And I hate that I can’t rip out the eyes of all her other admirers or shout it from the rooftop that she’s mine.
It’s like my fucking hands are tied behind my back, but that’s the price I have to pay to work in secret.
Feeling my eyes on her, she glances my way, and her cheeks flush. She freezes up like she always does and forces herself to look away from me.
Her friend says something to her, and they head off the field.
That’s okay. See you in a little while, Spider .
I left her a message in her locker letting her know she was to meet me near the Old Windmill House at the Hollows. That’s the section of the campus hardly anyone visits because of the urban legend of the murdered caretaker.
I watch her until she disappears in the locker rooms and smile to myself, returning my focus to the coach as he finishes his wrap-up.
He closes with his usual jibe to stay away from drugs, then he rounds on me as I’m walking by.
“Valneko, don’t you dare piss on me next practice. Get your mind out of the gutter.” His nostrils flair and his eyes blaze.
“Alright, Coach.” I dip my head and continue with the others off the field.
Kade falls in step with me, nudging my shoulders. “He’s fucking right.”
I smirk and nudge him back.
Ahead of us, Logan and Alek make their way down from the bleachers and meet up with us once we reach the sidelines.
They’re going into the city to watch an underground boxing match at some seedy backdoor club. I’m supposed to link up with them later.
“Good game, guys,” Logan says with a crack of his knuckles.
“We’ve decided we’re gonna take bets on you two. You’re both getting faster.” Alek laughs, holding up some dollar bills.
Them and their bets have gotten worse over the last few days. “What did you bet on this time?” Kade asks, narrowing his eyes.
“On how quickly Dmitri could clear the path and how fast you’d score the last touchdown.”
Kade glances and me, and I chuckle, shaking my head. “Whatever makes you happy.”
“What time are you meeting us later?” Logan motions to me.
“Not sure yet. I’m playing it by ear.” Kade knows I’m going to be with Mackenzie. He’ll understand if I don’t make it tonight.
“I got that modified part for the bike.”
“Thanks, man.”
“No worries. I almost didn’t get it on time.” Logan frowns. “That sea witch got me in trouble.”
He’s referring to Savannah. They’re on the same business and accountancy degree. Their professor teamed them up for a year-long project.
Logan and Savannah have been at each other’s throats since fourth grade and get on as well as boiling water and an active volcano. I don’t know what their professor was thinking when he put them together.
“Logan, you know you got yourself in trouble,” Kade chides.
“Like fuck.”
“I’ll see you guys later.” I smirk and back away knowing they’re about to launch into some discussion where Logan tries to defend himself.
Kade rests a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. “Watch your back, man. I saw your father around.” He glances down the path leading to the locker rooms. I follow his gaze and spot Mackenzie waiting by the pillars. Waiting for me.
I look back at Kade and give him a curt nod. “I will.”
I make my way to Mackenzie. When she spots me approaching, she slips into the locker room, going into the section we use when we have a home game and need to accommodate the rival team.
The section is empty now, so I’m guessing she wants to talk here. Not at the Hollows.
I’m guessing she wants to try to get me to release her again.
That’s okay. My answer won’t change.