“Sweetheart.” I sneer. “You act like you’re anything but a wet hole we let warm our cocks.”
Talon, who’s leaning against the doorframe, snorts out a laugh. “Jesus, Dre. You make me look romantic.”
That earns a shrill little groan of outrage. The girls storm out, heels clicking against the floor, perfume still hanging in the air.
I exhale hard, kicking the covers off, my body already shifting into fight mode.
I grab my gym bag, yank a hoodie over my head and a pair of sweats that were lying on my floor, and shove past Talon.
“At some point, you’re gonna fuck yourself out of distractions.”
I scoff. “Maybe. But today’s not that day.”
THREE
TALON
Ashen Grove University.
A legacy school, built on a mass burial ground. Some epidemic wiped out half the town over a century ago, or maybe it was something worse. Either way, the ghost stories, horror folklore, and other bullshit are repeatedly shared to keep freshmen entertained. The faculty loves to wax poetic about its history, but the only history that actually matters? The names carved into the foundation.
If your parents went here, you go here. If they didn’t, better hope they have enough money to buy your way in. That’s how it works.
I don’t really get the hype.
Sure, it’s an elite school, but so is every other overpriced, ivy-covered prison churning out the next generation of corrupt CEOs and soulless politicians. The only difference? Here, the monsters don’t lurk in the shadows. They run the goddamn place.
I would know. I help feed their delusions of power.
I’m a junior and an officer in Omega Chi Kappa—the fraternitythe university can’t disband without losing its spine. People pretend we’re a joke. We let them.
The truth? We set the syllabus for sin. No party without our say. No scandal without our permission. The administration sleeps with one eye open because we own them when it closes.
Dredyn and I are running under the late-morning sun, our skin slick with sweat. Dredyn sets a ruthless pace, but I grit my teeth and push through the burn in my legs. Students on their way to class leap aside to avoid us. Most keep their heads down, though a few can’t help but stare at the spectacle of two half-dressed guys running like demons loose on campus.
Power’s funny like that. You don’t have to flex it. Everyone already knows you’ve got it.
People scatter out of our way, eager to avoid even brushing against us. Except for one pair up ahead.
I spot them at the last second: a guy and a girl walking side by side, dead center on the path. They’re engrossed in conversation and haven’t noticed the human battering rams headed their way. Unlike everyone else, they don’t move.
Dredyn actually slows down. Normally, he’d plow through anyone in his way. But for some reason, he stops.
I nearly slam into him. “What the—” I scowl, stepping around him. “What the fuck is your problem?”
He doesn’t answer. His entire stance shifts, muscles tense as steel cables. He’s locked onto the duo ahead, eyes narrowed to predatory slits.
Not something.
Someone.
I follow his gaze, squinting in the glare. It’s the girl who’s caught his attention. She’s small, dark hair pulled tight, plaid skirt ironed flat. Every inch of her screamsgood girl.
The guy next to her finally notices us and pulls up short, placing a hand on her forearm to get her attention. He’s tall and lean, with light brown hair styled to perfection, and clothes thatprobably cost more than my car. I recognize him now: Zane Beaumont. A loudmouth trust-fund prince who thinks he’s untouchable. Not a threat, just a nuisance with good hair and too much ego.
Dredyn’s heavy breathing isn’t from the run anymore. I glance at him; his eyes are fixed on the girl with an intensity that even sets off alarms in my head.
It’s then that I realize who she is.
