Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
ARI
VanHuss University—or VHU—is a private university for the world’s most elite members of society. There wasn’t even an application process to attend. Admissions sends out the coveted letter of acceptance in the fall of each year, and to not accept would be social suicide.
Brodie and Aiden were invited before they even graduated high school just a little over four years ago, with their last name granting them immediate entrance.
I was invited to attend based on my academic record, but I’m pretty sure what swayed my invite was my residence and proximity to the Araneae family.
I practically killed myself to succeed because my academic record was the only thing of value that was truly mine, and nobody could take it away.
I had only ever heard of one person rejecting the invite, and rumors were the family fell on hard times soon after, and their name and reputation were erased from high society.
The world's most sought-after professors held positions at the university.
The curriculum is brutal, and the assignments are demanding.
But graduating from VHU guaranteed you top jobs in whatever field you desired.
The connections you made here gave you access to a world most people would kill to be in.
University programs included everything from business, pre-med, and pre-law to art, dance, and design.
I got accepted on the finance track, which Brodie was ecstatic about.
I could handle finances, which he thought was a tedious time suck and abhorrent.
Plus, this way, I could cook the books when needed and make sure no one was trying to undercut us.
It gave me a purpose within The Order outside of breeding, which is the track everyone else had placed me on. Vomit.
The next Fortune 500 CEOs were sitting in lectures while they traded stocks. Future Hollywood actors and Broadway stars graced the hallways, making our events the most sought-after by talent scouts.
Among the wealthiest and most elite crowd also stood the world’s best athletes. Olympic medalists, world record holders, and future professional athletes made up the teams on campus. The university would accept nothing less.
But the most prestigious team you could be on was the hockey team. Hockey culture ran deep on campus. The team had won the championship almost every year for a century. They played viciously and with more bloodshed than any other team in the league.
Their games were closer to bloodbaths than actual hockey games. Violence thrived, and no one stopped it. Hockey ruled the university, and everyone else toed the line.
The only team that ever managed to beat us was Bishop University.
Bishop U was the closest campus to us on the other side of town.
They recruited students and athletes we referred to as the second-class.
Parents who paid their children’s way into school and essentially bought their education.
I’m not even sure most of them attended any classes at all.
The arena dedicated to the hockey team did not share the space with anyone else.
It had all the bells and whistles, including private training rooms, a gym that would be most athletes’ wet dream, and a full-time staff.
Some professional players had even commented on their envy of VHU’s hockey arena.
Brodie and Aiden had grown up playing hockey.
It started as a way to work out their untapped aggression and grew into an obsession.
For the first three and a half years, Brodie led the team to three straight championships.
If he wasn’t with me or doing work for The Order, he was on the ice practicing.
Fuck, murder, skate, or something like that.
While Brodie enjoyed the strategy, the mind games, the speed, Aiden was the aggressor. Fighting, adrenaline, and blood were his bread and butter. And if people got to watch him do that, even better. The man thrived on having eyes on him.
After Brodie died, Aiden became captain. It’s like a light switched off in him, he became even more dangerous, more competitive, and things got even bloodier.
And since the asshole wasn’t in his morgue or at the house, I knew where to find him.
“What in the ever-loving fuck, Aiden?!” I scream across the ice as he skates around the empty arena. I have not calmed down after the utter shitshow this past weekend. A shitshow, because what else would you call that dramatic display of him getting down on one knee in front of everyone?
Un-fucking-believable is what it is.
Locking myself in my room for the rest of the weekend did not calm me down as I’d hoped. All it allowed me to do was relive the proposal over and over again, anger overpowering my grief for the first time since Brodie died.
I look down at the ring on my finger and feel nausea bubbling in my stomach.
The bastard matched the ring to my collar.
A collar currently buried six feet underground with Brodie.
I could still feel the ghost of the delicate chain around my neck.
A silent reminder that even with Brodie gone, I still belonged to him.
Aiden stops skating and looks over at me. His eyes are hidden from me beneath his helmet, but his jaw is firm, and his lips are set in a straight line. Clearly not happy to see me. Same. Fucking same.
Lifting his stick, he slaps the puck hard into the net. “What did you expect, Ari? The ring is typically a requirement for an engagement,” he snarls as he takes three more shots, hitting the net each time.
When he’s done, Aiden skates over to me, coming right up to my face with only the boards separating us. He towers over me, lifting the cage of his helmet and gives me a hard stare.
“You did not have to do that in front of an audience. You could have just given me the ring to wear. What was the point of that performance?” My anger penetrates the space between us, but he doesn’t seem fazed.
The corner of his mouth quirks up, and I know whatever he says next is going to annoy me. “Now where would the fun be in that?” Taking my hand, he lifts the ring to his mouth and tongues the diamond like an absolute neanderthal.
Snatching my hand out from his grip, I slap him, which elicits a deep groan from him.
I raise my arm to hit him again for the obscene groan, but he grips my wrist. “Is that any way to treat your fiancé?” His words are laced with fury, and his eyes darken, which causes an unwanted shiver to move through my body.
“Watch yourself, my venomous little fiancée. I bite.” Snapping his teeth, he mimics like he is actually going to bite me, which has me pushing away from him before he can latch on.
Aiden’s bite would be hard enough to make me bleed. I am sure of that. And he would like it. The fucked-up asshole.
“Well, we wouldn’t want to get blood on the fresh ice during your private skate.” I spit out, my anger nowhere near cooling.
Aiden smirks and leans against his stick, studying me.
“Ari. There are certain expectations that come with being the heir. You, out of everyone, should know that. People expect a grand proposal, a huge ring”—he glances down at the six-carat diamond—“and they need to be shown a united front from the future leaders of The Order so they can feel secure. There wasn’t any other option. ”
I know he’s right. Of course, he is. It’s not like we are taking over the local pub from a parent. We are inheriting the entire Order.
He just wants to make me as miserable as he is.
Tied to the person you despise.
How fun.
“You know you are an absolute asshole.” I grit my teeth.
“You better get used to putting on a show, little venom. I won’t have my fiancée embarrass me in public.”
Venom. This bastard has no idea how venomous I can be. I spent four years by Brodie’s side, and I learned from the best.
I glare at him. “Watch it, or you will find out how hard I bite back, reaper.”
He laughs at that, a cruel sound that stirs something inside me. “You can put your teeth on me anytime. You might even find out that you like how I bleed.”
No way in hell that is ever going to happen. “I am sure you taste as vile as your personality.”
“You will find out soon enough. We have to be married before Initiation night, so not long now.”
I blanch.
Initiation to The Order.
I forgot about that. Well, I didn’t forget, but with Brodie’s death, I had pushed it to the back of my mind.
Brodie had been in the process of training for Initiation before he died. He hadn’t said we had to be married before then, but I had always assumed we would be with graduation on the horizon and his legacy bearing down on him.
“Don’t tell me you forgot about Initiation night, venom,” he taunts, because he knows damn well that I did.
The chase, the blood, the watching. I shiver.
“I’m going to hunt you down, Arianna, and ruin you.”
“I dare you.”
“No one will take you from me. I won’t give them the chance.”
Initiation night to the Order made a primal kink chase through the woods look like a beginner-level introductory class.
Panic floods me.
I was fine doing it with Brodie. Brodie was my best friend, my future husband, my everything.
Whereas Aiden is very much not. Well, he has the future husband title now, but it wasn’t my choice to give him that.
I trusted Brodie to do what needed to be done to get to me. That trust does not translate to Aiden.
Aiden is the antithesis of everything that I want.
I don’t know how to do this. Not with him. At least not right now, or anytime soon.
Initiation night was set by The Order, coinciding with the summer solstice.
Every year, like clockwork, the sun fell behind the trees and night descended upon the participants.
Only the worthy would find victory while others would fall to their death.
Their ultimate prize: the chance to participate in the Initiation night event.
It was a vicious battle in the name of glory.
I could not control the timing of the event, but I would for damn sure wait as long as possible to tie myself to this arrogant asshole. Which gave me until June this year to figure out how to live in my nightmares.
Aiden closes the space between us and bends down to speak low in my ear, “Just think of how fun Initiation night will be—played with me.”
This time, I use both of my hands to push him back.
Aiden doesn’t falter, not even on skates.
He grabs me by the neck and easily lifts me so that my feet are no longer touching the ground and my hips are biting into the boards between us.
I grip his jersey for some stability as his wild gaze bores into mine.
“Do not do that again.” His voice is almost as cold as the ice beneath his skates.
“Fuck you,” I ground out.
“Other way around, venom.” He groans, closing his eyes like he is picturing it. “It’s gonna be your tight cunt choking my cock on our wedding night.”
Pushing him would be useless given the angle I am currently hanging in the air, so I do the next best thing. Without giving a fuck about the consequences, I spit in his face.
Aiden opens his eyes and looks momentarily stunned. Like he never expected me to have the nerve to do that. Feeling smug that I could shock him, I smirk. “The only thing that’s going to be hugging your cock on our wedding night is your hand. Might as well get used to it, reaper.”
The bastard knows how to play, though. With his tongue, he licks the spit from his cheek that landed right above his lips. And to piss me off further, he practically moans as he does it. “Tastes so sweet, unlike you.”
With that evil sentiment, he unceremoniously drops me and skates backward, never looking away from me.
But I am not letting him get away without getting some answers.
“Wait.” The word feels sour on my tongue because I have to ask about the ring.
He stops where he’s at and leans against his stick again.
Standing there on the ice, he looks like a dark angel.
More like a demon if I am being totally honest. Tall and imposing, with dark curls, a pierced eyebrow, arm tattoos, and enough muscle mass to knock someone out.
Which he does frequently during games because it is the only time he can even show a little bit of his true self to the public.
Making someone bleed in front of an audience is one of his kinks, and hockey was the best sport for that. The crowd even cheers him on while he does it. Everyone seems to relish his specific style on the ice. His smile gives people a false sense of security and lures them in before he attacks.
Dropping my chin, I look down at my ring. My newfound source of discomfort. The oval-cut white diamond contrasts beautifully with the black from the intricate web design on the band. I would never admit it out loud, but it really is the perfect ring.
“The ring…care to explain?” He stiffens, removing his weight from the stick and pulling the cage back over his face.
“No.” Turning, he skates back to center ice. Making it clear that this discussion is over.