Chapter 2
TWO
RUELLA
“Here,” Reluctantly, I tear my gaze from the window.
Outside, fields unfurl in every hue of wildflower imaginable.
Soft pinks, vivid golds, cool violets, all blurred into a painter’s dream by the movement of the car.
The sun spills across the hillside in ribbons of gold, and for a moment, I let myself imagine slipping out and vanishing into that warmth.
Running. Disappearing. Starting over somewhere no one knows my name.
But then my eyes find Silas, seated across from me, his dark blue gaze already waiting. He lifts a brow, quietly amused, maybe even hopeful that I might try. That he might have a reason to follow.
We’re in the back of one of my father’s cars, drawn from one kind of prison and delivered to another. But at least the view is pretty on the way.
Marrowton Academy.
An exclusive university for the filthy rich and extremely powerful. A place I had no interest in going, even after Marlowe begged me to go with her.
Silas lifts his hands between us, a black phone lying in his palm.
“No thanks, I have my own phone,” I huff.
“Take it,” He orders again. “This one is secured. Your father will contact you on it,”
When I don’t move fast enough Silas grabs my hand roughly and slaps the cold metal into my palm before throwing it away like I am diseased. I often wonder why I ever let him touch me, then other times I thank the stars for sending him my way, to give my lonely existence a little reprieve.
The crunch of tyres on gravel snaps me from my haze.
My breath catches as the iron gates loom into view, tall, black, and spiked like they were designed to keep things in, not out.
Beyond them, there’s no sign of the school itself, only a wall of towering trees, twisted things that stretch endlessly in either direction, their bark gnarled and their shadows long even in daylight.
They crowd the perimeter like sentinels, branches clawing at the sky, whispering secrets to the wind.
The forest presses tight against the wrought-iron fence, as if conspiring with it.
Together, they form a boundary that feels less like protection and more like a warning.
No welcome signs. Just the unmistakable promise that whatever lies beyond them, does not intend to let me go.
Holy shit. This really is like a prison.
Silas whistles next to me. “This looks worse than back home” he chuckles, and it makes my stomach drop. I knew Marrowton Academy wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows, but I never put much thought into it possibly being worse than my father’s house.
A darkness shadows over the car and when I glance up, I see the sunshine no more, that inviting field of flowers is in complete contrast to the view before me.
Grey clouds almost as thick and foreboding as the forest around me hovers above, I wish I packed some tan because it seems I won’t be getting any UV rays.
Large drops of rain start to fall as the driver lowers his window and presses a button on the speaker beside him.
I feel my heart start to race with nerves, but I try not to let Silas see my silent panic. I was so desperate to get away I didn’t think about what I would be running into. What are the people like here? Are they going to see right through me?
If I am going to be here for a while, I need to try and blend in. I need to make friends before I start to dig a little deeper and that makes me the most nervous.
“Stop with the fucking tapping,” Silas snaps. “It does my head in,”
I glance down to where my hand is tapping against the sliver of skin showing between my skirt and thigh high socks. Unfortunately, in trying to control my raging emotions, something must give, and my damn nervous tick gives me away every single time.
I snap my attention back to Silas who has his arms crossed over his chest as he glares back at me.
“You are a real dick you know that,”
“And you’re annoying as fuck. Get over it,” He grins.
The crackling of the speaker and a gruff voice breaks the growing tension and I decide to ignore Silas for the rest of the drive. He will be gone in a matter of minutes anyway. Good fucking riddance.
“Name,” The voice loud and clear.
“Ruella Griffith,” The driver replies.
“Straight up. You only have fifteen minutes for drop off,” Then with a bleep the black gates open, the creaking echoing through the empty forest like in a horror movie.
As we glide past, my eyes catch on the wrought-iron gate’s design, at first glance, all elegant swirls and curling vines climbing skyward.
But the longer I look, the more the truth reveals itself.
Twisted among the flourishes are grotesque faces, mouths stretched open in eternal screams, and serpentine devils sinking their teeth into writhing, naked figures.
It’s a silent tableau of torment, so expertly woven into the ironwork that it almost disappears…
almost. Whoever crafted it didn’t just want to impress. They wanted to haunt.
“Lovely,” I whisper as a shiver runs up my spine.
Silas starts to talk again but I choose not to listen as we make our way up the tree lined gravel driveway. The man over the speaker said fifteen minutes but it looks like it will take that long just to get to the end of this road.
When the car finally passes the last collection of trees my eyes widen.
The place is far larger than I ever imagined.
It rises from the earth like some ancient god, vast and unyielding.
A gothic castle carved from obsidian stone, its surface almost gleaming beneath the overcast sky.
Four towering turrets pierce the low-hanging clouds, their tips shrouded in mist like secrets not meant to be uncovered.
Every inch of the facade is alive with twisted carvings, gargoyles, winged beasts, and tormented souls frozen in stone, echoing the macabre artistry of the outer gate.
It doesn’t just resemble something from a Dracula set. It makes Dracula’s castle appear quaint. This place doesn’t pretend to be anything other than what it is…a monument to power, darkness, and control.
As we pull up in front of the doors, I see people coming to and from other smaller stone buildings to the far-right side of the main one, I sarcastically laugh at the view.
“You have got to be kidding me!” I grumble as I scan the girls. I can’t make out faces and details through the rain-streaked windows, but no one would be able to miss the fact that they are all wearing the same outfit.
“Fucking uniforms!” I moan. “Who wears a uniform to university?” This is going to suck bigger than that time father broke my finger and I couldn’t use my boxing bag for weeks.
Not many people know me, but the ones that do know I love only two things, fighting and fashion.
Two completely competing hobbies, but the only things that make me feel armed and ready to take on anything.
Putting me in a uniform will be like stripping me of the last shred of control I have on my life.
I groan, close my eyes and drop my head back onto the seat.
Silas chuckles and places a hand on my thigh. “Not going to lie. The thought of you in one of those uniforms, makes my dick hard,” I glance to my right and when I look down to his crotch, he is in fact hard.
When I smile and meet his gaze, he wiggles his brows suggestively. “Want a goodbye fuck?” He asks as the driver gets out of the car and rounds to the boot to start unpacking my things.
I hum as arousal starts to bubble in my blood, the heat rushing straight to my stomach as he slowly runs his hand up my leg.
“We did that last night,” I remind him as his fingers breach my underwear.
“Yeah, but who knows how long you will be here. These rich twats won’t know how to please you the way you need it,” His fingers stroke up my center and with a breathy moan my head falls back to the rest again and I slowly shift so I can open my legs more.
“We don’t have time,” I manage to get out, but then gasp as he pushes two fingers inside of me. The curl of them giving a delicious buzz to my core, one where if he keeps going will have me detonating in a matter of minutes.
“Fine, then you’re going to come on my hand, then suck my cock until those pretty red lips are swollen and smudged,” He picks up the pace as his free hand reaches for my throat, a slight tightening of his fingers blocking off my oxygen, just the way I like it.
After a few more pumps of his fingers, I explode as he releases my neck. All way too soon for my liking, he pulls his fingers free of me as I still ride out my orgasm. I hear his zipper and the shuffling of his pants as I come out of my small pleasure.
“My turn,” He says before grabbing the back of my head and pushing it down onto his already rock-hard cock.
I barely get my mouth open before I am gagging around the head of it being rammed down my throat.
I wish I could say I felt angry about it, but I’m not, I love it.
I love everything about this, the dirtiness, pleasing another to the point of insanity.
The thought of someone seeing through the window as Silas roughly fucks my face adds to the growing need between my legs again.
I really am fucked up.
Silas grunts and groans as he pumps his hips up towards me, while he pushes my head down by his rough hold in my hair.
I feel him thicken as his thrusts start to become erratic, I know this will be over in seconds, so I brace myself for the finish.
After three more frantic pumps he erupts in my mouth, and I swallow him down as I hum around his cock.
I sit back and reach into my bag for the wipes as he quickly puts himself away and goes to straighten his hair.
I grab my compact mirror and check the damage.
Shit. Even if I fix my running mascara and smudged lipstick, you can tell I have been face fucked.
Rosy cheeks, red ring around my neck and swollen lips.
Great.
“Fix your face,” He grumbles while picking his phone up. “I have other shit to be doing today,”
I ignore the growing anger and rejection from my heart and quickly pull myself together. After reapplying my mascara and lipstick, I exit the car with no other words to the heartless bastard I willingly allowed into my body. I really need to try and have some standards. It is pathetic really.
I pull my bag over my shoulder as the driver places the last suitcase at my feet and wordlessly gets into the car. The engine hums and with no goodbye, pulls away and leaves me alone on the steps of my new home. Alone again. Like always.
My eyes burn with the need to cry but I shut it down as quickly as it comes.
I’m not quick enough to catch the one tear that runs down my cheek and drops to the black stone beneath my feet.
I let the wet trail sit there for a while as I watch the headlights disappear into the thick tree line before wiping it with the back of my hand.
“Fuckers. All of them,” I grit out through a clenched jaw before turning to head into the main building. I’m not trudging all my suitcases up with me, so I leave them until I have a clue where I am going in this haunted fucking castle.
As I turn to take my first steps I freeze.
A tall, broad figure stands to the side of a doorway, tucked into one of the many curves of the building.
I can’t see his face because the hoodie he has on is pulled low over his eyes, but I do see the cut of his jaw and the light stubble as he lifts the lit cigarette to his lips.
I am stuck still, as his head goes from over where the car was and back to me.
Did he see what just happened?
No way. The car had tinted windows. Didn’t it?
Shit, I didn’t even check.
His slight smirk tells me everything I need to know. I internally groan at my slutty self for making one of many terrible decisions.
Even in my embarrassment, I don’t move. I watch him while he leans back against the building.
Black suit pants in a total contrast to the black hoodie on top as rain picks up around us.
The water hits him from where he is, soaking through the material covering his face, and I am thankful for the arch of the doorway protecting my carefully curled hair from making me look worse in front of this stranger.
Resembling a drowned rat would have been the cherry on top of this disaster.
He takes a final drag of the cigarette, blowing smoke out into the already grey surroundings, then flicks the butt onto the gravel.
The tall stranger bends down to grab the backpack by his feet and my heart races as he makes his way over to where I am.
I can’t see his eyes, but I can feel them on me, running all over my body.
From the roots of my white hair, down to my thigh high boot clad feet.
He reaches for the door handle I didn’t manage to get to and pulls.
He opens his mouth and I prepare myself to swoon thinking he is going to be a gentleman and hold the door open for me.
He does attend Marrowton Academy after all, so he must come from good stock.
“You missed a spot,” Deep like the ocean but smooth like whiskey, his voice catches me off guard. No one I have ever met has a voice that both lights me up but also makes me want to cower with its vicious edge.
I shake my head. “What?”
He smirks but it isn’t playful like Silas’s.
“You missed a spot,” Then he points to my chin with a look of disgust. Before I can say or do anything else, the stranger turns his back on me and heads through the doors where it closes with a slam due to the force he used on it.
I scramble in my bag for my compact mirror, I groan out loud this time at what I find as my cheeks redden and my stomach drops.
“Fuckity fucking fuck,” I have dried come on my chin. DRIED. FUCKING.COME.
I quickly grab a wipe and decide to go without any lipstick today. I take a deep breath and tilt my head to the sky. Please let the rest of the day go smoother than this morning. A stranger literally caught me with dried come on my mouth, it can’t possibly get worse than that. Can it?
I shake away all the thoughts on how this day could get worse and grab the door handle before I change my mind.
I pull it open and the smell of spiced apple and burning wood hits my nostrils along with warmth and a sense of danger. “Here we go,” I whisper.