The Ritual

The hairs on the back of my neck rise while my nipples harden when his gaze lands between my legs. Everything in me tells me to run—any other woman would—but I stay sprawled out on the floor like an idiot. The air gets thicker, making it hard to breathe, which just makes my tits bounce when I manage to suck in a deep breath.

He takes a step forward, the tip of his shoe knocking into the bottom of mine. “There are animals that roam these halls. If you’re not careful, one will catch you.” Those threatening eyes reach mine once again, and he smiles down at me. It’s not any friendlier than his glare. Instead, I get this feeling he wants to rip my throat open with his perfectly white teeth—a million-dollar smile comes to mind.

I swallow nervously, my mouth all of a sudden dry. “I …”

“Blakely? God, Blakely?” I hear a familiar voice. “Why are you on the floor?” Matt comes up behind me. Bending down, he places his arms underneath mine and lifts me to my feet. “What happened?”

I don’t answer. Matt is picking up my books, bag, and schedule while I just stand here staring at Ryat like a deer in headlights. His eyes haven’t left mine since he delivered the threat. I fully understood it. This is what you expect from anyone attending Barrington.

Cruel.

Evil.

God complex.

This is what happens when children grow up getting anything and everything they want. And I’m not talking about a teddy bear from the store. No, I’m talking about that one-of-a-kind two-million-dollar car before they even have a license.

“Everything okay here?” Matt asks.

I look down to see he’s left my books stacked on the floor by our feet. My eyes go to Matt, and he’s got all his attention on Ryat. They’re not friends. Not anymore, anyway. They were once, but something happened last year, and let’s just say they hate each other now.

“Blakely?” Matt snaps, making me jump.

Instead of answering him, my eyes shoot to Ryat once again.

Ryat arches a dark brow at me, his green eyes still boring into mine. They’re less threatening now and more playful. This is a game to him. Is everything okay here? “Yeah,” I answer Matt.

I don’t know Ryat very well, but I’m aware of his reputation. You don’t want to be on his shit list.

Ryat blinks, breaking contact, and looks over at Matt. Wiping the smile off his face, Ryat steps into him. I hold my breath as Matt cowers. “Keep your bitch on a leash.” He then looks over at me, his eyes quickly running over my body once again, making my breath quicken. “Otherwise, one may assume she’s a stray.” He puts his attention back on Matt. “And well, let’s just say you of all people should know that someone may choose to take her from you.”

With that, he reaches up and shoves Matt into the wall, then walks past us to carry on with his day.

“What the fuck?” Matt hisses, pushing off the wall and watching Ryat walk away without even bothering to give us a second glance. “Blakely?” He places his hands on my shoulders. “Did he push you down?” His hands run down over my arms.

“No … not exactly.” I continue to watch Ryat. The hallway isn’t crowded by any means, but even if it was, you’d still be able to spot him. He’s about six-three and two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle. He walks with an ease—as if he has all day to get where he’s going.

“Did he touch you?” Matt growls.

Ryat pulls his cell out of his pocket and starts texting before he takes a right down another hall. Disappearing out of sight.

“Blakely?”

“What?” I snap, turning to look at Matt now that Ryat’s completely gone.

“What the fuck happened?” he demands. “Were you talking to Ryat?” His eyes narrow on me in suspicion.

Of course. Now Matt is mad at me. Another man threatens his relationship with me, and it’s my fault. Always is.

“Nothing.” I push him off. “What happened between you two?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. They live in the same house—house of Lords. They’re both members of the L.O.R.D.—Leader, Order, Ruler, and Deity—a secret society made up centuries ago by men to feed their misogynistic and egotistical attitudes. I only know what very little Matt has told me over the past three years, which is practically nothing. Their oath keeps them from talking about it.

“How the hell should I know?” He shrugs.

I eye him skeptically. “You’re saying you have no clue why he hates you?” I find that hard to believe.

“Ryat is an asshole,” he adds as if I didn’t already know that.

Yes, but he completely avoided my question. “Whatever. I’m late to class.”

I leave him standing there to go on with my day and manage to find the right room. Making my way up the stairs to the top row of the auditorium classroom, I sit down on the end next to my best friend since kindergarten and rub my elbow. It hurts after I fell on it.