Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Wyn - One Year Later

God, I feel nauseous.

I should just cut and run right now, and never look back.

For the last couple of months, I've avoided all Burning Crown events. But as with all secret societies, there are rules, and one major rule is that no member can miss more than three consecutive events without facing the consequences. And the consequence of missing too many society events is having to be re-initiated. My first initiation shook me so hard, I'm still trying to catch my breath. So, yeah, not trying to do that again.

Tonight is the Founders Day celebration at Rush House, one of the biggest events of the year. It's the society's birthday, so there's a lot of booze involved, which, if I'm being honest, is one of the pluses of attending any society event.

But I'd been avoiding all of this, because two months ago, my boyfriend, Gabriel, took his own life, and I've heard whispers that some in the Burning Crown blame me for that. One person in particular.

Lucas West.

I don't need him to blame me. I feel enough guilt to last a couple of lifetimes, so the absolute last thing I need is people leering at me with hate and judgment in their eyes.

Blowing out a breath, I stare at the path leading up to Rush House, the ocean-front Victorian mansion that serves as the Burning Crown headquarters. My friend, Alexis, is with me, and she grabs my hand. She's one of those sassy chicks that I immediately gravitated to when I joined the society a year ago. She's a bit of a witchy, earth-mother type, with long wavy brown hair, dark eyes, and an easy smile. Her magnetic personality has a way of pulling people in.

"Let's do this," she says. "It's going to be fine. You're going to be fine."

I glance at her and smile. Thank God she's here with me. We joined the Burning Crown at the same time, our freshman year, and we've been pretty close ever since. She's one of the very few who stuck by me after Gabriel's death.

What's that saying, "Hard times will always reveal true friends?" Damn, that's the truth. Most of my "friends" scattered to the wind when they heard Lucas blamed me for Gabriel's death. He's one of four Sacred Sons, the elite of the elite within the Burning Crown, and whatever they say is gospel, apparently.

I sigh. "I have to get back on the saddle at some point, right?"

When we reach the front porch, Austin is standing there with a basket, silently demanding we turn over our phones before entering the house. Austin has always been nice to me, so as I drop my phone into the basket, I flash him a smile. There's no answering warmth on his face. With an uninterested expression, he just spreads his arm, indicating the open door.

Okay. Whatever.

Alexis and I step through to the foyer, and there's already a crowd gathered, waiting to be let into the study, so we can change into our ceremonial robes. I don't even know why I shaved my legs for this. By the time we get our robes on, everything is all covered up anyway.

We all stand around awkwardly for several minutes, waiting for the Sacred Sons to show up. They're the ruling elite of the Burning Crown, and we can't start without them. But the fact that all four of Sacred Sons live in this house, yet still manage to show up late to every ceremony is classic rich-boy bullshit.

Control. That's what this is. It's what the Sacred Sons thrive on. They want us to wait, so we know who's in charge.

But as we all stand in the foyer, I notice I'm getting a lot of side-eye, and whispers thrown in my direction. More than I anticipated. Gabriel was a gregarious, and well-known member of this community, and his sudden death impacted a lot of people. But they didn't know the other side of him. The angry, bitter side. He'd become absolutely unhinged when he got high.

Alexis grabs my hand and squeezes. "It's okay," she whispers to me. "In a month, they'll all be gossiping about some other drama."

"They blame me," I whisper back harshly. "Gabriel jumped in front of that train, but I'm the one facing the judgment for it."

Grief is a weird thing. Sometimes I'm sad, but eventually, that sadness melts into anger that grips me so hard that I often find it difficult to breathe. I can't imagine what was going through Gabriel's head when he decided to end everything. All I know is that the ripple effect from that night almost destroyed me. And now I'm just trying to get back to a place of normalcy, which is a lot harder than it sounds.

"I've actually heard whispers that the police suspect Lucas could have had something to do with Gabriel's death," Alexis whispers. "Someone just mentioned it today in class."

Lucas West. King of the Sacred Sons since Roman Rush stepped down a couple of months ago. Lucas was Gabriel's cousin and best friend, and he's made it abundantly clear that he hates my guts.

The feeling is one hundred percent mutual.

"Why?" I ask. "The police said Gabriel's case was pretty cut and dry."

She shrugs. "They said something about a witness coming forward, but that was it. Class started and they dropped the subject."

Alexis is so sweet, but she can also be so clueless sometimes. If I'd overheard something like that, I'd be up those people's asses, asking questions the second class ended. "You didn't ask them who the witness was, or what they said?"

"It just sounded like gossip, Wyn. I'd take it with a grain of salt."

Yeah, maybe she's right. How many crazy things have been said about me in the last couple of months? Everything from me having a secret baby that pushed Gabriel over the edge, to me goading him into doing it. None of it was true, obviously, but that didn't stop people from speculating.

Finally, after waiting around for a half hour, the Sacred Sons—Lucas, Christian, Jackson, and Ash—saunter down the main staircase like kings of their domain. Christian is first. He's tall, muscular, and male model-level hot, just like his twin, Lucas—the only difference between them is that Lucas has wavy blond hair, and Christian's hair is straight.

You'd think Christian would be just as upset by Gabriel's passing as Lucas was. They were both Gabriel's cousins. And he was upset from what I've heard, but Lucas' pain went beyond grief. He was completely shattered by Gabriel's death. Some people say it changed him.

Jackson is next down the stairs, his large, muscular body nearly taking up the entire width of the ornate staircase. His dark features give him a tough, weight-lifter vibe, even though he mostly just surfs. But beneath that tough exterior, he's actually really nice. He helped me when Gabriel and I were struggling—offering me advice and giving me a guy's perspective…

But he was also one of the "friends" who ghosted me after Gabriel's death. We weren't besties, but we were close-ish. And after everything went down, he never reached out, never checked on me. Nothing. And that really stung.

Alexis and Lux were the only ones that stuck by me.

Ash comes down next. He's the newest Sacred Son and the classic image of a surfer—messy sun-bleached hair and vibrant blue eyes that look into a person and seem to perceive more than what's on the surface. Initially, he had mixed feelings about becoming a Sacred Son—something about not wanting to contribute to a corrupt patriarchy—and because of that, there's been a fuck-ton of tension between him and the other guys.

Lucas is the last one to come down. Of course, he is. He walks slowly down the staircase while he rolls his shirt sleeves up and adjusts his mess of boho bracelets like he's in no rush to get where he's going. He enters every room with the kind of confidence that only comes with knowing he's rich, powerful, and insanely hot.

It's a fact, though. So I can't even say he's wrong. He's over six feet tall, tanned, and muscular with wavy blond hair and a pair of striking blue eyes that made me gasp the first time I saw them. No lie. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Right after it happened, there was a second of silence, and then he just laughed, but mockingly. I wanted to launch myself off the nearest cliff. It's been a year, and I still think about that horrifying moment weekly.

He probably gets that all the time though. That's what I tell myself, anyway. Of all the Sacred Sons, Lucas is the most popular with the Debs—short for debutants, what we call the female members of the Burning Crown. He's on every Deb's fuck list, and he knows it. Everyone knows it.

When I first arrived on campus, I did try to get his attention, but he never seemed interested in me. Then a week after my initiation, I started dating Gabriel. So my attraction to him was a moot point after that.

But Gabriel and Lucas were close and hung out all the time, so I got a front-row seat to Lucas' many hookups, which was a special kind of torture. I compared myself to every girl he brought around. I watched how they interacted, wondering what it was about this girl that caught his attention. Was she quiet, or outspoken? Was she funny, or more serious? There was never really a pattern. He just seemed to fuck whichever chick he was in the mood for that week.

At the time, I felt like I hid my attraction to Lucas well, but looking back, maybe I wasn't as slick as I thought I was. Gabriel was always jealous of Lucas, and every time we fought, he accused me of wanting to fuck his cousin. So, it was either me giving him that vibe, or Gabriel was just going off the fact that everyone wants to fuck Lucas. Either way, he wouldn't let it go.

Mason thumps his stick and everyone lets out a " Hoo-ah ," which snaps me back to the present. With the Sacred Sons now here, we all shuffle into the dressing room, which is just off the study, so we can change into our robes.

Alexis turns to me as she's pulling her cloak off the hook. "We're getting you some dick tonight," she whispers.

I shrug into my robe. "What?"

"You heard me."

"It's only been two months since Gabriel…" My gaze darts around the small dressing room, but thankfully, no one is paying attention to us. "People would talk."

"Wyn, we both know you'd emotionally checked out of that relationship long before Gabriel died." She rushes to add, "Not that his death wasn't painful for you, and I get that. But a good fuck would improve your mental health. No one needs to even know about it."

It's a problem when Alexis starts making sense, because it's true, things with me and Gabriel had been bad for a while. He was always so angry. No matter what I said, he would twist my words and use them as evidence that I was betraying him in some way. It was exhausting.

But, I don't know, maybe if I'd been a better girlfriend, he wouldn't have stepped in front of that train. Ugh. It's an endless cycle of guilt.

Pulling the hood over my head, I flash Alexis a smile. "We should vote to get rid of these stupid hoods. Fucks up my hair every single time."

"Oh, fuck you." She flashes me a bright smile. "You always look hot, and you know it."

I sigh and my gaze darts around the room. I'm always searching for that one face, that one pair of electric blue eyes. But I don't see any of the Sacred Sons, which means the guys must have already gone through to the ballroom.

Once we're all robed-up, we're ushered into the ballroom, which is down the hall, on the far side of the house. It's the room we use for ceremonies that includes all members because it's the only spot in the house large enough to accommodate everyone.

Inside the ballroom, the lights are dimmed, and candles flicker around the edge of the room. This place is creepy on a normal day, but the orange flickering glow of the candles takes that to a whole new level. It's giving Victorian seance vibes.

Everyone instinctively forms a large circle, shoulder to shoulder, naturally falling into complete silence. The only sounds are our shoes shuffling against the wood floors as we position ourselves.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Mason appears in the center of the circle, cloaked like the rest of us, his chin held high, a gold stick in his hand. He calls everyone to attention, even though we're already silent and fucking staring at him.

"The Sacred Sons," he says, introducing them with a flourish of his arm like he's announcing a band at Coachella. We all stomp our feet in unison, ending on a "Hoo-ah!"

So much of what happens in the society is theatrics, and I work hard to keep from rolling my eyes. But I'm here, so whatever. I just need to get through the night, so I can go back to ignoring all these people, except for Alexis, of course.

The Sacred Sons and their consorts file into the center of the circle. Jackson, Christian, Ash, and Lucas are at the center of all this, but it's Lucas who takes the lead because he's the oldest. I mean, technically. I think Christian is only younger by a minute. But in a patriarchy like this, one minute might as well be a lifetime.

Lucas' hard gaze sweeps the circle. "Tonight, brothers and sisters, we honor our forefathers. It is due to their foresight, their sacrifice, and their leadership that this venerable society exists today."

More stomping, and another "Hoo-ah!"

Raising his arms, Lucas lapses into a long string of Latin that none of us understands. I half-wonder if he even knows what he's saying. He could be vowing to sacrifice babies for all we know, but no one seems to care. As long as they're part of the cool crowd, they don't give a fuck.

I do, though. I give a fuck.

Everyone chants a couple of things in unison, and then, thankfully, the ceremony starts wrapping up. Tonight is more about the drunken revelry afterward. That's what Founders Day is really about. Honoring our forefathers by drinking to excess, and fucking in dark corners. You know, typical secret society mayhem.

Lucas closes out the official part of the ceremony with the ominous words, "'Semper Fidelis." Always loyal. I don't know why, but in my head, I've always added, "or else…" to the end of that statement.

Once the official ceremony is done, we remove our robes and hand them over to members who will hang them back up for us. I guess shaving my legs was necessary, after all.

On the far side of the giant room, the DJ is already set up on a platform and starts pumping out music. The candles are snuffed out, and colored lights start flickering in time with the pulse of the bass.

Someone is passing drinks around, and Alexis grabs us both a glass. It's straight rum—the expensive kind—and I drain it in one swallow, my asshole puckering as the syrupy liquid burns down my throat like molten lava.

Daymn.

"Whew!" I say, blinking. "That shit made my eyes water."

Alexis laughs, downing her own drink. She takes our empty glasses and sets them aside.

"Oh, shit," she says when the song switches. She moves her body in time with the rhythm of music, her hips swaying energetically. She's wearing a short black peasant dress that shows off her long legs. "Here we go. It's time to partayyy."

The rum is already working its way through my bloodstream, but even that isn't enough to get me dancing. Alexis isn't going to take no for an answer, though. She knows I hate being here, and she's determined to cheer me up.

Grabbing my hands, she forces me to sway with her. "Come on," she says, pouting. "You don't want to dishonor the founding fathers, do you?"

I can't help but smile as she pulls me close, smoothing her hands over my hips, and guiding me as we both find the flow. The base pulses through me, and soon I'm sweating, completely lost in the music.

Maybe Alexis was right. Maybe I did need this.

Two more drinks later, I'm feeling really good. And for the first time in two months, I'm not thinking about Gabriel, or what people think of me. The freedom of that is intoxicating. It feels like a two-ton weight has been lifted off my shoulders. And even if it's only temporary, it feels amazing.

Alexis leaves to find us more drinks, and someone pushes up against me from behind. I can tell it's a guy because there's a very firm appendage shoved against my ass. I don't look back to see who it is. I just keep dancing, jerking my hips, grinding my ass into whoever it is. I'm drunk enough now to throw caution to the wind and let myself go.

When it's obvious I'm cool with his attention, the guy smooths his large hands over my hips, and pulls me more firmly against his hard shaft as if to say, " You want this?"

Yes, please, and thank you.

I haven't had sex in months. I don't even know the last time, because Gabriel and I were in such a bad place toward the end that sex wasn't even a consideration. You have to get along for more than five minutes for shit like that to happen.

Turning around, I glimpse my new dance partner beneath the flickering lights. He's tall with a hint of muscle beneath his dress shirt, and when I look up at his face, I'm pleasantly surprised. It's Kai. I've seen him around, obviously, but I've never really talked to him.

He leans down to speak in my ear, "You wanna get some air?"

It sounds like an innocent question, but I know exactly what he means. It's code for "You wanna fuck?"

I smile up at him, feeling a little floaty and numb. "Yeah."

His hand slides down my arm, his fingers hooking with mine, and he leads me out of the ballroom and into the foyer. People are already out here, fucking in the corners, their anguished moans filling the dark, stale air.

Kai pulls me outside, to the wrap-around porch, shoving me against the waist-high railing. It's cool out here, and the ocean breeze feels so good on my heated skin.

He pushes me up against the railing, his hand instantly dipping under my skirt. His lips are on my neck as he finds my panties and shoves them aside, one long finger stroking my entrance. "You smell like gardenia."

I smile because Gabriel used to say the same thing. But no one actually smells like a flower. It's probably just my shampoo.

"Mmmm," I breathe, tilting my head to the side, enjoying the feel of his soft lips skating over my skin. "That's feels nice."

"You like that?" he says, pushing his finger pushing into me. "Oh, yeah. You're already wet."

"Mmm-hmmm," I intone, reaching up to grip his shoulders.

He kisses his way up my throat to my jaw. "Thank God you're finally single," he whispers. "I've been obsessed with you since your initiation."

That kills the vibe and I freeze.

Initiation into the Burning Crown is a brutal ceremony for us girls. We're basically fucked by a masked figure—a male member—and we never really find out who it is. It's supposed to signify our total submission to the society or some shit. Depending on the girl's masked partner, initiation might be rough or soft or somewhere in between. My initiation changed something inside me, and I've never really come back from that.

Was it Kai who initiated me?

He can't tell me—that would be against the rules—but now I find myself analyzing every move he makes. Does it feel familiar? I can't tell, though. I was so damn scared that night, and the experience was so overwhelming, I'm surprised I remember anything at all.

I shake my head, but Kai is so into the moment, he doesn't even notice. His finger pushes in deeper, which sends my thoughts scattering to the four winds. I rise onto my tiptoes and moan.

Oh, okay. That feels nice.

"Yo," a voice booms from somewhere beyond the shadows.

I pause. Kai pauses.

A hand curves over Kai's shoulder, and yanks him backward, tearing him away from me. I suck in a breath and jerk back, my ankles hitting the bottom of the porch railing.

Kai spins on whoever it is, ready to fight, but he stops short as soon as he sees the person's face. I see the guy's face at the same time.

Lucas.

He's at least two inches taller than Kai, and he looms over us both, the yellow porch light encircling his head like a halo and casting a harsh shadow across his face.

"Take any chick you want," Lucas says, his gaze falling to me, our eyes catching. "But this one is off limits."