Chapter 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Wyn

As I make my way down the hallway, and down the main staircase to the study, I try to steady my breathing. My entire body is trembling after that encounter with Lucas. I still have trouble wrapping my head around the fact that he was the one who initiated me.

But why do I suspect there's so much more to all this?

I know you felt the pull between us, Wyn.

Of course, I did. But even if I had known he was the guy who fucked me during my initiation—and I didn't know—I still wouldn't have approached him afterward. The Sacred Sons constantly have girls crawling all over them. They're the most sought-after commodities at ExU. Getting one of those guys alone is like plucking a star out of the night sky with your bare hands. It's physically impossible unless one of them singles you out first.

Whatever. It just proves out out of touch Lucas really is.

I'm also shocked he let me go as easily as he did just now. But, whatever, I'll take it. It's like narrowly escaping the jaws of a lion—if you're lucky enough to do it, you don't ask questions.

I walk into the dressing room, grab my cloak and hood, and start putting them on.

"Oh, hey, Wyn." It's Ava's voice, and I turn around to see her easy smile. She's just putting her hood on, too. Her usual blond beach waves are curled, pulled over her shoulders, and she's wearing the queen consort's white cloak, which sets her apart from the sea of navy blue.

"Hey," I reply with a tight smile. For the first time, I notice how much she looks like me. Same long, wavy blond hair, same green eyes, and slender frame.

Wow, fuck. Lucas really has a type.

I feel a little dumb for not putting all of this together before. But, again, the hate he exuded really threw me off. Why would I ever suspect he had a thing for me?

Ugh. What a fucking asshole.

"So, uh, how did it go with Lucas?" she asks. I can tell she's probing for information about my conversation with him. "Everything okay?"

I'm tying the robe as I turn to face her. "Lucas is an asshole, Ava. He's not faithful and I don't know why you put up with his bullshit. You deserve so much better."

For a second, she just stares at me, like she doesn't know what to say. I know I caught her off guard, but fuck it. She needs to hear this and I'm done hiding behind politeness.

She laughs to cut the tension, then glances away uncomfortably. "Yeah, I mean, I know that. We're not exclusive. He made that clear from the beginning, and I'm cool with it."

I can tell she's definitely not cool with it, but whatever. If she's hoping for something more serious with Lucas West then she's barking up the wrong psychopath. That's her business, though.

I shrug. "You do you girl. Just thought I'd mention it."

The benefits of being a Sacred Sons's consort are wild, so I don't blame her one bit for playing the game. I just hope she isn't crushed when she realizes Lucas is never going to come around, no matter how perfect she is. He's a cunt like that and I wonder now if he even has emotions like the rest of us.

A few minutes later, we're all called into the ballroom. Austin is at the door, collecting our phones. As we all file in, about a hundred people, we're each handed a cut crystal flute filled to the gilded rim with champagne.

Holding the glass in my hand, I wonder why we're being served champagne at a random meeting. That's a bit weird. I'll take it, though. Anything to file down the sharp edge of anger I'm feeling after Lucas' confession.

The champagne is probably for a toast or something, but I down it in one gulp before even taking five steps into the room. I ditch the empty glass on a passing tray, then pull the hood over my head, and find a spot in the back of the room. I could try to find Alexis, but I'm not feeling very social right now. It's already been a fucked up night, and I just want to get this shit over with so I can go home.

On the other side of the room, Mason brings everyone to attention with his stick. Thump, thump, thump. The room instantly quiets down, and someone coughs. Only when the room is completely silent does Mason announce the Sacred Sons.

I can hear them come in, but I'm so far back, I can only see the tops of their dark hoods. Not gonna lie, I'm glad I don't have to see Lucas' intense glare. I'm so pissed at him, I can hardly think straight. But my body hasn't gotten that memo, apparently, because just knowing he's in the same room with me sends a trickle of awareness down my spine.

Ugh, disgusting.

One of the guys steps forward to address the room—Ash maybe—but I'm not even paying attention. I'm too busy replaying my entire initiation ceremony in my head, dissecting every word the masked guy— Lucas —and I exchanged. His tone, the way he moved, everything.

Now that I know it was Lucas, it makes sense, but could I have seen the signs before? Did I ignore all the evidence on some weird subconscious level, because I didn't want to face the fact that it was him? Maybe it was just easier for me to believe it was someone else.

But the truth is, as much as I hate Lucas, he awakened something inside me that night. A darkness that I now crave. A depravity that feeds my own twisted, fucked-up desire. For the millionth time in the last year, I wonder what's wrong with me.

I'm circling that thought when I suddenly hear my name echo off the wood-paneled walls. Glancing up, I blink and notice every person in the large room is turned to face me. Oh, shit. I feel like I've been caught daydreaming in class.

I'm considering what my response should be when the group of people in front of me part like the Red Sea, creating a direct path from me to someone standing across the room.

Lucas.

He's standing expectantly, head lowered, looking like the devil in his dark cloak, the deep hood pulled over his blond hair. His gaze is fixed on me. "Wyn Barker," he repeats. "Come stand before your Lord."

My Lord? I assume he's referring to himself. Gross.

But, for real, what's happening? I'm so confused.

On second thought, I don't care to find out. I glance around in a panic looking for possible escape routes. But the door to my left is blocked by a crush of people. I could wade through them, but that would make an already awkward situation a million times worse.

With a resigned sigh, I take the only option open to me and start moving down the path toward Lucas.

I stop within a few feet of him. "What is this?" I ask quietly, embarrassment burning my cheeks. Why is he calling me out in front of everyone? Is this another one of his cruel games?

A vibrating field of toxic energy surrounds us both and it's on the verge of exploding. He lifts his head to address the room, but his gaze never leaves my face. "Esteemed members of the Burning Crown, I have chosen Wyn Barker to be my consort and queen."

Whoa, what?

I blink at him, like what the actual fuck? The Sacred Sons selected their consorts ages ago, at the Preference Ceremony, which is held at the beginning of the academic year. And back then, he chose Ava. Not me. Well, I was dating Gabriel, to be fair. But still, the choice was made.

"You can't have two consorts," I point out, and I know that for a fact because I read over the bylaws with a fine-tooth comb a few weeks ago when I was helping Lux. The bylaws specifically state that a Sacred Son may only have one consort at any given time. Our forefathers were egomaniacs, but thankfully that egotism stopped just short of polyamory.

With a laugh that sounds more like a sneer, he walks over to Ava, who is standing a few feet away, and removes the pendant from around her neck. She gasps, but the sound is swallowed by the ripple of confused chatter that fills the room.

Ava's hand flies to the base of her throat, where the pendant sat just a few seconds ago. And just like that, she's been dethroned. Devastation washes over her face. She looks so shocked, she can't even hide it.

Lucas walks the pendant over to me, but before he gets too close, I hold my hand out. "I'm not accepting that."

It's so fucking ironic because just a few months ago, I convinced my friend Lux to take a Sacred Son's pendant. Being a consort is like winning the lottery. Only four girls from the entire campus are chosen—one for each Sacred Son—and for the entire academic year, they're treated like royalty. They're untouchable.

But I don't want it. Not if it means being tied to Lucas.

His jaw tightens, and with a glare, he reaches out and grabs my hand, using it to pull me forward. "I'm not giving you a choice," he bites out.

I glance around. After that initial burst of confused chatter, the room fell silent. Everyone is staring at me, waiting to see what I'll do next. Their leering faces blur together and I blink rapidly to try to clear my vision, but that only seems to make it worse. I suddenly feel really lightheaded and that's when panic grips me. I've felt like this once before, in my apartment, when I was drugged.

Was my champagne spiked? I drank it too fast to taste anything funny.

But, I don't feel right and I quickly realize I'm in trouble.

The truth is, I could scream. I could cry. I could plead. But none of it would matter. The people in this room would gawk at me like I was a center-ring circus attraction, but they wouldn't intervene. That's the fucked up thing about this place. Lucas and his crew own this entire fucking school and they rule the Burning Crown like gods. What they say goes, no questions asked.

I'm convinced Lucas could slit my throat right now and no one would say a damn thing about it. That's how deep these people's loyalty to the Sacred Sons runs.

They're all just spineless sheep.

Not me.

I yank my hand out of his death grip, the quick motion causing me to stumble back. He reaches forward and catches me before I fall. "Put that necklace on me, Lucas, and you'll be sorry you did…" Did that come out right? I can't tell. It feels like I'm slurring my words.

I know deep in my bones that this is Lucas' doing. I challenged him up in his room and now he's proving that he's the one in control.

Goddamn, I'm going to kill this motherfucker.

Honestly, he should have stuck with Ava. She's willing to serve him without question. But me? I'm more interested in slitting his throat while he sleeps…

He pulls me close, into his warm body, and there's a smile stretched across his cruel lips. "It's okay, baby. I've got you now."

My head lolls to the side. I feel so tired and yet anger still flares inside me. "I hate you," I say.

"You keep saying that," he laughs, then leans in to whisper, "but I think you're lying again."

I feel the weight of his cold pendant on my chest, so he must have put it on me at some point without me realizing—and that scares me more than anything because that means I'm officially his consort. And whether I like it or not, I belong to the devil now…