Chapter One

Lyrical

I slice the razor across the delicate flesh of my arm, watching the bright red blood drip onto the bathroom sink. The pain feels like a high I don't want to let go of, and my adrenaline is spiked, so I make a few more cuts. Closing my eyes, I try to get rid of the empty hole in my chest.

The one mistake I made that changed my life forever was killing my best friend in the car accident three months ago. Every day I live with the guilt of getting behind the wheel, because if not, Bailey would have been alive. I've done dumb shit before, but I've never driven high. I may not be the most responsible person in the world, but I have common sense.

I can't bring myself to look at the girl in the mirror because of the shame I feel, so instead I slide on my long-sleeve shirt, ignoring the throbbing wounds, and I wiggle on my leggings. Then I head to my bedroom.

The only thing I remembered about the car accident is that I blacked out, woke up in a hospital bed, and was told Bailey didn't survive.

I remember the pain on Snow's face as he informed me that he doesn't want to have anything to do with me. It hurt more than the headache I experienced right after the accident. It left a gigantic hole in my chest that will never be filled. It's been three months since the accident. This is the longest we have ever gone without speaking to each other. I didn't even see him at the funeral.

Shaking my head, I tell myself I'm going to take it one day at a time. Plus, I have to plan for my wedding right after college. Which I'm not looking forward to.

With my book bag strap over my shoulder, I stride to the living room. I live in an apartment on campus. Tossing my bag onto the wooden floor, I sit on the beige couch, glancing around the spacious room. The flames in the fireplace dance, making the room warm and cozy. I glance out the window, staring at the clear ocean. I wish my emotions were as calm as the sea.

North Haven is where most of the wealthy people in the United States reside when they want to get away from the big city life, and NHU is where the richest people on the planet send their children for the best education. The college tops any Ivy League in America.

My roommate, Lilac, strolls inside, her blue dress hugging her small frame, and her lavender hair pinned up in a ponytail making her light brown skin glow. She looks like a fairytale princess; her beauty as rare as a gem. She's the only person I've gotten close to since the car accident.

She knows the pain I feel, of me losing Bailey, and I can tell her my issues without receiving any judgment. She's truly down-to-earth and a good friend.

Her gray eyes narrow on me and her lips thin, before she asks, "Are you okay?"

I feel fine most days, but today I feel like shit. According to the police report, Bailey died on impact before the car engulfed in flames. My mother and father felt bad, but they never blamed me for the accident, though they did force me to attend a rehab center and seek grief counseling during the summer.

I shrug, biting the inside of my cheek.

She wraps her arms around my waist, squeezing me tight, and I return the hug as her fruity scent invades my nostrils.

Stroking my back, she says, "It's going to get better. I don't know how it feels to lose a best friend, but I do know if you need someone to speak to, then I'm all ears."

She means well, but her words don't do anything to help soothe the ache in my chest, and I try so hard to hold back the tears, swallowing the lump in my throat.

I release her and step back. "Thanks."

Because I do appreciate that she's trying to comfort me in my time of need.

Once Lilac grabs her floral-print bag, she straps it across her shoulders and we head out the door.

The campus is alive and vibrant, surrounded by different colored trees. You can see the crystal-clear ocean from here on the island. The dark towers made out of fiber glass look haunted. I watch as other students stroll to wherever they need to go. Some people are riding on bikes and others are on scooters. I watch the tidal waves roll onto the white sand, the gray sky gloomy, but the temperature is neither too hot nor too cold.

As we walk to the café, Lilac fills me in on her school schedule and we find out that we have two classes together. She tells me about her summer, about her family vacation in Greece. Like me, she comes from a wealthy family. Her mother is a stay-at-home wife and her father owns a national bank.

I'm an art major. When I graduate, I want to start my own museum gallery, a dream Bailey and I shared together. She was an artist as well; she was gifted in making sculptures, whereas my gift is paintings. We had our whole lives intertwined with each other's, and sometimes, I don't know how to pick up the pieces of my life, or if I should continue this journey without her. It's not fair that I get to fulfill our dreams and she can't. Death is one of the cruelest things on this planet.

When we head to the table where Winter sits, she smiles, gets up from her seat, hugs me tight, then she sits back down. She's been my friend since the start of my freshman year. Her sleek bob barely touches her shoulders, and she wears a blue blouse with matching designer jeans. She's into fashion, which is why she majors in fashion design.

"I've missed you two this summer." She takes a huge chunk of her muffin, chewing silently before setting it back on her plate.

The smell of bacon mixed with a burst of blueberry filters through the air, but my appetite is nonexistent.

The waitress places her fresh mug of coffee in front of Winter, the smoke from the hot beverage making her face seem flushed.

Lilac rattles off her order to the waitress, then she asks Winter, "How was it living in Paris this summer?"

"It was fun. I went to a lot of parties, and I had a summer fling," Winter replies, before sipping slowly from her mug.

I'm so envious of other people and their lives. They get to choose who they want to date and have the freedom to go after their dreams. The only thing I have control over is my college degree and my career, though my mother doesn't agree with my life choices because I'm going to be married to one of the most powerful men on this planet. Growing up, I felt like a caged person, not having the freedom to do what I want. My parents were overbearing and strict, but when Bailey came around, they gave me a little bit more freedom.

My friends talk amongst themselves about their summers, while I don't comment.

Everyone's eyes veer up, including mine, as Snow, Jameson, Irvin, and Keanu walk into the café.

My heart drops in my chest and adrenaline courses through my blood at the sight of Snow. Tears wet my eyes because I miss him terribly. Pain crawls around my heart.

His pure white hair touches his forehead, making his tan skin brighter than the sun. He wears his dark leather jacket with a black T-shirt underneath and a pair of black jeans with rips in the knees.

The butterflies flutter in my stomach every time I'm around him. Yet, I know he won't look at me the same after the car accident.

The American Gods are untouchable, blessed with fame, and have enough wealth to fund a country. They are vicious and people whisper about them like they are the boogeymen in the night. I've only met Snow's friends a handful of times because he used to keep me away from them, said they were too dangerous for me to hang out with. Their families have the mayor, judges, and other powerful people at their mercy; they will soon rule North Haven. No one knows about my arranged marriage to Snow, because we kept it a secret. The public are aware that the American Gods tend to have arranged marriages, but they aren't announced to the world until the engagement ball. I'm not looking forward to it, either. My wedding day will be on every streaming service as if it's important like the Queen of England's wedding was.

Snow's eyes meet mine, and they are cold and distant and filled with anger. When he stalks toward me, his eyes glide over my face as he makes his way to the table. Winter's and Lilac's eyes are glued to him, full of glee, their faces flushed, as they burst into a fit of giggles. None of them know my destiny is tied with his, and, come summer of next year after we graduate, we will be wed.

I'm not looking forward to it, especially when we're not speaking and he hates my guts.

My heart thumps when he stands in front of me, not acknowledging my friends. He grabs me by the arm, dragging me outside, and I don't fight him because I don't want to cause a scene. No doubt everyone on campus is going to be talking about it for the rest of the day.

Once I inhale the morning breeze, I try to snatch my arm away from him, but he grips tighter, slamming me against the cobblestone wall. Pain shoots up my spine.

"Let me go," I grit out between my teeth.

He places both of his arms above my head, and I inhale a heavy dose of his minty breath as I study his facial features. His cheekbones are high, his jaw is sharp like a knife, and his skin is as smooth as marble. He's the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on.

"What are you doing here?"

He looks like the powerful American God that he is. Pure rage colors his face, causing me to shrink back. I've never been as scared of him as I am now.

Tears form in my eyes, but I refuse to allow him to see them fall. He will not see me weak, and he will not see how much he scares me, so I straighten my spine and hold my head high.

"I want to finish my last year here. Why, is it a problem? You still believe I popped a pill and drove that night?"

His eyes narrow. "Yes, I do. I looked at the autopsy and your medical records. My father paid off the cops and the judge to get you out of jail scot-free for reckless driving."

"I was drugged," I scream at the top of my lungs, but he places his palm over my mouth, silencing me.

"I don't believe it. I watched you all night and no one drugged you. I even checked the cameras. You may have our families fooled, but not me." He sighs as if he's over this conversation. "Leave this school. I don't want to see you here, not until my ring is on your finger."

I don't care how pissed off he is with me, I'm not going anywhere. He might have a lot of power, but not over me. Plus, I don't have the patience or time to transfer to another school. The only thing I'm worried about is passing college algebra.

I push on his hard chest, but he doesn't budge. "No, I'm staying. You can't run me out of here."

He grips my chin, digging his black-painted nails into my flesh, making me squeal. "Last chance, Lyrical Gina Haynes. Leave here."

I wrap my fingers around his, trying desperately to remove them, but he digs them in harder, watching the tears run down my cheeks. His smile is wicked, as if he's enjoying hurting me.

He wipes each tear, tasting them on his fingers. "You look good when you cry. You look better at my mercy. You would look even better kneeling before me, with my dick between your lips."

My eyes widen at his words; he's never spoken such filth to me. He would say sexual stuff to me here and there, but not like this. His words make my nipples harden like glass.

His eyes glint with delight. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

I would, but I'll never admit to him what I really want. If he knew the fucked-up things I crave, he wouldn't look at me the same.

"Please, Snow. Let me go, you're hurting me."

He squeezes harder, and I yelp like a dog.

"That's the point. Leave, Lyrical. You're not welcome here."

"No."

A devilish grin spreads across his face. Snow leans down, whispering in my ear, "I'm going to enjoy breaking you."

He lets me go, fixes his erection in his pants, then opens the door to walk inside the building, leaving me stunned with my mouth hanging open.