Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

A mbrose woke me in the same way he had before: with a steaming cup of extraordinarily sweetened coffee and breakfast. I was grateful for it, and temporarily allowed my mind to wander, to conjure more mornings such as these, a new routine for the two of us. In my mind, his special wake ups continued well after Halloween, though I knew it wasn't likely.

I wasn't going to think about that right now.

"Why are you smiling?" Ambrose asked, buttoning his crisp, white dress shirt.

My cheeks heated, "I'm just wondering if this is how I'm going to wake up every morning."

He laughed, crawling onto the bed so that his hands came to rest on either side of my hips.

"No, Vivian. This is not how I'm going to wake you up every morning."

"Oh?" An eyebrow raised and my curiosity piqued.

He came to lay beside me, one hand trailing my bare thigh under the covers. "No. In fact, some mornings I might choose to wake you like this." Cool, spindly fingers came to my center, sending a gasp from my throat and coffee sloshing in the mug.

"I'm sure that'll work," I breathed, every nerve suddenly alive and sparking with lust.

"I don't know that it would, to be honest. You might need a bit more inspiration." He hoisted me up and over to straddle his hips and the jostle sent coffee splashing down my arms and onto his chest.

"Ambrose!" I laughed, bracing myself over the rigid length of his cock which sat trapped in his trousers.

"Oh, what a shame, another shirt ruined." His smile was crooked and he extracted the cup from my fingers to set on his side table. "You have a penchant for ruining them, don't you?"

"You said something before about it being a new form of seduction, if I recall correctly." My elbows came to rest on his shoulders so my hands could roam his soft hair.

"Consider me thoroughly seduced." He palmed my bare breast, massaging the soft flesh there until my head tipped back and I sighed contentedly, grinding against his belt. Each swipe sent a thrill through my pussy and the way his fingers played over my nipple had me faint with need.

"I think I might like being woken up this way." I was wanton, shamelessly seeking pleasure against him.

He had me hopelessly addicted.

"Lift your hips," Ambrose instructed through clenched teeth. I did, allowing him to fight the belt I'd been using as my own personal sex toy. He managed to bring those damned trousers down his thighs just enough so his cock could spring free. "Now, slide down and take what's yours."

My teeth pierced my lip as I came down on his cock, letting it stretch and fill me in a now familiar way. He pulsed inside, eyes rolling in the back of his head as I sheathed him fully.

"Show me how wicked you can be. "

"I—I don't know what to do."

"Yes, you do." His wide hands smoothed up my sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. "Just do what feels good."

Fingers curled around his shoulders, I lifted my hips and rocked against him, moaning as I came back down again.

"There she is." Ambrose smirked, heavy lidded eyes glazed in pleasure. "Just like that."

I couldn't allow myself to think. My hips were driven purely by sensation as I rode him and ground my pelvis against his. I cupped my own breasts in an absolute fiery desire to be touched until he clasped his hand around my throat and squeezed just enough for my pussy clench.

Oh , and how his hips bucked in response.

"Oh, my god," I wheezed, swelling pleasure clawed its way from my center. My speed increased, hips rising and falling against him, taking him as deep as I possibly could.

The lack of blood flow to my brain threw me into a fog of nymphomania, exacerbated only by the wet, hot mouth clasped around my nipple.

"Yes, baby, come all over my cock." Ambrose's arm came around my waist as my body convulsed and my shriek echoed in the space around us. We were mindlessly coming against one another, mouths locked and driven by our pleasure alone until he, too found his release, spilling into me and gasping.

His tongue traced my lips, tasted my mouth as I fell back down to earth. "We're going to be late."

"I don't mind being late if this is my alarm every morning." I grinned, resting my head on his shoulder and placing a kiss on the skin of his sweat glazed neck.

"I wouldn't mind either, but we have to stop by Roosevelt House for you to change now, don't we? And you know the longer we linger, the more attention we'll draw. "

"What if we skip today?" I was too hopeful, unwilling to return to the threat that loomed outside his doors.

"Now there's an idea." Ambrose laughed, extracting himself from my hold to climb from the bed. "But don't you have your favorite class today?" He offered me a wry grin.

"Oh yes, I forgot all about Romantic Literature!" I flopped myself onto his mattress in a dramatic swoon.

"Romantic Literature?" He gripped his chest, face etched in pain. "And here I thought it was your Shakespeare class that was your favorite."

"I do have that class today, don't I?" I rolled over, throwing my arm over my face.

"Yes, you do, and I know how much you love that instructor." He dropped his soiled clothes and dug through a chest of drawers with a smile lifting his cheek.

"I do. More than many might realize." More than you might realize , I thought sadly.

"See? We can't skip today. But, I do want all your stuff here before the evening is over with, Vivian. And you are absolutely not allowed to walk to and from by yourself, especially not in the woods."

"What do you suggest I do, then?" I watched his legs slip into fresh trousers and a sweater mask his tattoos with obsession.

"I suggest we take you home, get you a change of clothes and let you pack a few small things—essentials—for you to pick up after your shift at the library."

"And you don't think anyone is going to notice that we're walking to and fro with one another?" I cast him an incredulous look. If his goal was to keep me within reach at all times, packing my things and bringing me home would be…conspicuous.

"I've got that covered." Ambrose beamed, clearly proud of whatever idea he'd come up with since last night. "All you have to do is listen, behave yourself, and trust me."

"Seems a bit much," I teased, throwing my legs over and letting my feet kiss the cool wood floor.

"For you? Absolutely."

Ambrose dropped me at Roosevelt House, staying only long enough to watch me walk inside. By the time I was showered and dressed, students were already making their way to class, filing out groggily into the gray morning light no better than zombies shambled in the streets of classic movies.

As I finished pulling on my trench and hooking the old messenger bag onto my shoulder, a knock trilled on my door. My stomach dropped and everything I learned last night flashed paranoia like a lens through which I would not perceive anything the same. It screamed to stay put, to bar the door if necessary. Maybe I could fasten the sheets into a rope to climb out of the window if they tried to knock it down.

It hadn't even been an hour and I was already breaking Ambrose's rule…I was alone.

I realized with a sour, crippling terror that I didn't even have his cellphone number. How could I get ahold of him if something went wrong?

"Who is it?" I called with my ear pressed against the door, scarcely able to breathe in wait.

"Who do you think? Come on, open up." It was a well-known and gruff reply.

"Walt?" I was astonished, tearing the door open to find him looming just outside the threshold. He looked as tired as when I'd seen him in his room, and he donned a crimson OU hoodie with gray sweatpants. "What are you doing here?" My relief was palpable.

"I've been given specific instructions to escort you to your classes today." His eyebrows creased and that famous Blackfield jaw tightened.

My shoulders slacked and emotion wet my eyes. "Are you serious?"

He gave a curt nod.

"So you know?"

Once more, he gave a single, sharp acknowledgment.

"Say something, Walt. Please," I whispered, voice thick. He knew, he knew that I had become a target and he was here to help me. I had always loved my brother, but it seemed nothing compared to the gratitude I felt now.

"What can I say, Viv? This is all so fucked." He ran a hand through his sandy hair.

"Vivian?" Sam interjected as her door snicked shut behind her. She donned her favorite thrifted jeans and grandpa sweater this morning, blonde hair tied tight in a ponytail. "Who are you?"

"I'm Walt, her brother. And you are?"

She extended her thin hand, cheeks pink. "Samantha. Her friend."

Walt eyed her wearily, bringing his gaze back to me and leaving her hand empty and hanging. "You ready?"

"Don't be an ass." I mumbled. My tone softened as I turned my attention to Sam, "Want to walk with us?"

"Yeah…sure." Her gaze roved over my brother and it brought a wide grin to my lips. I couldn't shake the image of an eclectic, vibrant Sam on my usually happy-go-lucky brother's arm. I didn't think there was a better option on campus than Walt.

He groaned, heading for the stairs. "Let's go then. "

"You didn't tell me your brother was hot," Sam muttered as I locked my dorm room door.

I laughed. "He isn't. He's a jerk."

"If I had a brother like that?—"

"Don't even," I stopped her, knowing exactly where she was going. It wouldn't be the first time someone would fawn over Walt. "You wouldn't."

Sam guffawed, hooking her arm through mine. "Remind me to go to more lacrosse games this spring."

The walk to class was awkward. Walt stayed two paces behind us, eyes always scanning and temple ticking with stress. I desperately wanted to ask him what Ambrose said, because clearly it had to have been Ambrose who sent him. I wanted to know about White Dove and what the fuck he was going to do about his sacrifice. I couldn't fathom how he must feel, how he could bring himself so low to take a dove. I wanted to help him escape campus, escape Dad, but then I was also glad he was here, making sure I wasn't snatched in broad daylight and taken to be slain on some altar.

What a fucking predicament we were in.

Sam walked into class first, mere seconds from being late. Ambrose's own relief was tangible when he spotted us in the doorway and he offered Walt a brief nod of thanks.

"Wait," I said, my hand snatching Walt's arm.

"I can't stay." He shoved his fists deep into the kangaroo pouch of his hoodie.

"I know, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." My teeth sunk into my lip. The stress was getting to me and my chest ached.

"I'm fine, Viv. I'll see you at lunch."

"Miss Blackfield?" Ambrose called from behind his desk. "We're getting started if you'll join us."

"I love you, Walt." I took him in a hug around his midsection and sank my face into the soft fabric of his shirt. He smelled like weed and cologne, but it was comforting, strictly Walter Jr, and I hadn't realized how much I needed to hug him until I was there.

The embrace was different from those with Ambrose, of course. It was a familiar sense of security I had desperately been lacking since the start of the semester. I wasn't some hunted woman for a moment. I was his little sister, scared and stressed and he was the bear who would bring me safety.

Walt's own arms snaked around me and his muscles relaxed only slightly. "I love you, too. Please be safe, I promise we'll talk at lunch."

"Vivian?" Ambrose was in the doorway now, hushed and stressed. "Come on, darling. He's going to be late as it is."

"Right." I stepped away from Walt, tears chilling down my cheeks.

"Thank you again, Walt. You don't know how much I appreciate your help?—"

"Save it, Doc. She's my fucking sister."

"Right." Ambrose's lips pressed thin.

Walt hadn't waited for a reply, skulking down the hall toward the stairs with stiff, bunched shoulders.

"Come on, my love. Let's get this class over with." Ambrose's fingers curled softly over my wrist and Walt's figure disappeared, inch by inch, until nothing more remained.

Students meandered out the door, chatting with one another about the next play we were to cover before midterms— A Midsummer Night's Dream. I stayed put, taking my time to pack my things while Ambrose stood, arms crossed over his chest, at the front of the room.

"See you at lunch?" Sam lingered by our table emanating curiosity.

"I'm going to take lunch with Walt today, if that's okay." I offered her a small smile.

"Is everything alright? Both of them looked sort of stressed…" Her hand spun in the air toward the head of class.

"Listen." My gaze met piercing gray for a moment before coming back to Sam as I came to my feet. "The society, everything, all of it is real."

"What?" Sam hissed, the corners of her mouth twisted down.

"They have this ritual every year—yes, that kind of ritual—and one of the senior lacrosse players picked me for his… you know... on Halloween."

Her eyes widened and all color drained from her face. "You can't be serious, Vivian." Sam threw a quick glance over her shoulder as the final student made his way out.

"I am."

Ambrose joined us with an eyebrow arched just so. "Ladies?"

"She knows," I admitted as I chewed my lip.

His scowl was startlingly intense. "Goddammit, Vivian. Telling others puts them?—"

"No, no, I'm glad she told me, Professor. Maybe I can help, I mean, there's got to be something we can do, right?" Sam took my hand, grounding me before I could spiral. I hadn't realized the way my breathing had turned ragged, rushed but the edge of insanity loomed dangerously close.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Samantha, but you must know that your knowledge of White Dove only puts you in danger."

"With all due respect, Dr. Wilder, I grew up in New York City. I think I can handle a few rich boys parading around in robes." She smirked, slinging her backpack onto her back. "We can talk about it tonight, if you'd like?"

"Vivian will actually be staying with me." Something flickered over his features, an idea that brought a slow smile. "You know what? This may work…"

"I don't see why not," I quipped. "Sam can help us while keeping an eye out for herself…there's no losing in this situation."

"Not if we play our cards right." Ambrose regarded her with a steely gaze. "I'll need your help. Not only with making sure Vivian is safe and never alone around campus, but also with getting her things out of her dorm and taken to Oakwood House."

"Oakwood House? I don't know where that is." Sam's face screwed up in confusion.

"It's the original president's house, on the north side of campus," I explained.

"Got it, I can help with that. What do you need?"

"Just some clothes and books, nothing too crazy. I'll pack it all tonight after the library."

"And I'll be waiting for the two of you past Penrow House." Ambrose crossed his arms over his chest

"I can't believe we're doing this." I swallowed the knot in my throat.

"It'll be okay, Viv," Sam offered with a gentle squeeze of my hand. "I know it will be."

"Now that's settled, the two of you should likely have my phone number in case anything happens, but don't go taking liberties, Miss Frazier." He smiled, taking our phones and adding his number into them. The way his fingers danced over the screen nearly had me undone. I knew what they were capable of, even if they weren't gloriously long, slender and veiny.

"Vivian?" he coaxed, waiting for me to take back my phone .

I rolled my lips with a flush. "Are we official now?"

"Oh, my darling. We were ‘ official' ages ago." Ambrose brushed my cheek with his thumb and the ghost of the sensation lingered.

"Well, isn't this precious." Sam teased.

"You're dismissed." Ambrose chuckled as he wound an arm around my waist and hauled me into him. "I'll walk her to her next class."

"Right, it was getting kind of third wheel-ish anyway." Her thin lips twisted into a grin. "Be careful, okay?"

"Hell, you be careful." My anxiety wound around me, ready to pounce—it was enough to fret over myself, Ambrose, and Walt, but Sam, too? My nerves would never recover from this experience.

Sam left Ambrose and I in the quiet solitude of his classroom and for a moment, we but looked at one another with twin expressions. He was tired, strained, and his teeth seemed smashed together in stress.

"Are you ready?" he murmured after the silence.

"I suppose so." I fiddled with a string hung on the hem of my shirt.

"When you leave class, come straight here, alright? Walt will take you to lunch after but you are not to go by yourself, do you understand?"

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled forth as I made my way toward the door. "Of course, Ambrose. I don't exactly have a death wish at the moment. A few months ago? Sure, I'd have practically begged Brian to take me?—"

"That's not funny," he bit out, snatching my waist to bring me against his long, hard body. "I can't even think it, it makes me sick."

I softened in his grip, my palms on his chest. "Like I said, right now? Right now, I like getting up in the morning. I like living, because living means I get to be with you. And being with you is more than enough."

"I grow worried for the day that sentiment changes." His dark brows plunged and those stormy eyes swirled with something aching, something I felt I barely understood.

"There's no need?—"

"But there is. You're young, you're going through a fairly traumatic experience, what with being hunted by an ancient secret society. At some point, you'll grow and change and I'll still be here—forever altered by your existence. Icarus having touched the sun, desperate to feel its warmth once more." His forehead came to mine, heavy and cool.

"No, Ambrose, listen." I pulled back and clasped his face in my hands, boring into his eyes to make him listen, to make him comprehend what I needed to say. "I didn't want to tell you yet, not till I knew for sure you felt similarly, but I?—"

Footsteps pattered outside, closer to the doorway than either of us anticipated.

He cursed under his breath and released his hold. One look at his watch told us both what we needed to know. The world continued to march forward whether we wanted it to or not. "That'll be the first students for my next class, we'll finish this later, yes?"

"Of course." I resigned myself, gnawing on the inside of my cheek as he welcomed students into the room and encouraged me to follow him to my next class.