Page 7

T he mansion’s ornate layout thrums with a steady rhythm of bass reverberating through the soles of my boots as I round the corner from the kitchen. A gaggle of freshman girls dissolve into giggles off to my right, cheeks flushed and eyes glazed from whatever cheeky libations they’ve been knocking back. One petite brunette teeters close, nearly slamming into my chest before I smooth a hand along the dip of her waist to steady her.

Her head whips up, gaze snagging on mine as she blinks owlishly. A dusting of heat blooms across her features as teeth snag her plump lower lip in a move I’m certain is unconscious. Still, it’s fucking adorable in a way that has my lips curving in a wolfish grin as a low growl rumbles from my chest.

The sound, coupled with a playful snap of my teeth, has her stumbling back with a startled squeak. Her back fetches up against the kitchen island as I smirk and shove my free hand into my pocket, cocksure saunter unbroken as I weave through the crush of writhing bodies in search of my mates.

Despite the grinding, sweaty bodies and spilled alcohol permeating every inch of this swanky fuck-pad, I quickly pick up the unmistakable scent of chronic wafting from a side room. Following that dank fragrance leads me to a dimly lit sitting room where Rhys and Hayes lounge sprawled amongst plush settees—a veritable oasis of calm amidst the storm of depravity swirling around us.

“Well if it isn’t the resident libertine gracing us with his presence,” Hayes drawls around the blunt pinched between his fingers. A hazy cloud of smoke coils from his lips as he passes the joint to Rhys who simply arches an inscrutable brow my way.

Ignoring his disaffected disdain, I cross the threshold and settle into the loveseat, slinging one knee over Hayes’ thigh as I pluck the blunt from Rhys’ grasp. Their matching grimaces of irritation earn a cutting smirk before I drag in a deep pull of that skunky smoke, letting the thick atmosphere coat my lungs in a pleasantly acrid burn.

“Oi, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” I scoff, passing the blunt back to Rhys as he glares sidelong. Lifting the tumbler in my palm, I knock back a healthy swallow of the gin concoction that tastes like shite despite how smashed it’s bound to make me feel. “Don’t tell me you wet blankets are gonna sulk the whole night away in this den while the real fun’s happening just outside?”

“If by ‘fun’, you mean indulging in a puerile flesh-fest fuelled by bathtub swill and hormones gone feral, then no thanks.” Rhys exhales the smoke in a long sigh, nudging his jaw toward the open doorway where our fellow students cavort like animals in heat. “Some of us have loftier aspirations tonight—ones that don’t involve getting our knobs slobbered by the first desperate chav who’ll spread her thighs for a promising lay.”

Hayes barks a laugh as he pinches the blunt’s cherry, snuffing it in the ashtray balanced on the armrest. “Yeah, alright mate. Like you aren’t itching to sink that dripping cock into some sweet, new quim the second Hansley finishes devouring poor Arius whole.”

There’s a brief lull as all our gazes drift to the vacant armchair adjacent to Rhys before swivelling back as one. It’s only then that I notice the familiar figure lounging in the shadowed threshold, muscled forearms braced against the jamb as those fathomless depths regard us balefully. Arius’ arrival never fails to suck the very air from any space he enters, like an incredibly virile black hole exerting an irresistible pull.

“Somehow, I suspect Rhys will survive not having pussy thrown at him,” Arius rumbles, voice pitched low with a subtle edge of threat that has the fine hairs along my nape prickling. His unwavering stare drills into me as his lips curve in a blade-thin smirk. “Though perhaps the demonstration would grant a novel experience in understanding how to keep it in his trousers for once rather than letting it lead him around by the sac all evening.”

Arius’ barb does little to faze me as I simply arch a brow and shoot him a sardonic grin. “Oi, you wound me, mate. My cock and I happen to be on exceedingly amicable terms—a mutually respectful understanding that gets us precisely where we need to go.”

I punctuate the taunt with an exaggerated leer, watching in smug satisfaction as Arius’ jaw tightens before he reins in whatever retort was brewing. Turning on one booted heel, he stalks to the vacant armchair and eases that powerful frame into the plush cushions with studied indolence. Even lounging, the bloke is fucking intimidating, like a caged panther eyeing his next meal.

“While you lummoxes lounge about indulging base appetites, perhaps you could spare effort staying apprised of our more… pressing matters,” Arius drawls in that distinctive rumble laced with a subtle edge of menace. Those glacial depths cut to Rhys with undisguised disdain. “Like ensuring we don’t bollocks this up entirely where the West girl is concerned. Tonight needs to go off without a fucking hitch.”

An exaggerated groan rattles from Rhys as one hand snakes out to snag an abandoned tumbler off the coffee table, flinging back the remaining contents in one bracing swallow. “For fuck’s sake, Arius, we haven’t even made it through the first bloody week,” he growls, slamming the glass down with a sullen thunk. “Can we not simply enjoy the last of this reprieve from that tedious Order rubbish for one goddamn evening?”

Arius’ nostrils flare with irritation, that blade-thin smirk hardening into a sneer. “I’d sooner throttle every last one of you than let this year spiral into an abject shiteshow of mistakes like the previous fuckers who didn’t make Ascension.”

Christ, at this rate the two of them are bound to be at each other’s throats by the time the real festivities get underway. Heaving a sigh, I shift myself on the loveseat to drape across Hayes’ lap in a less combative sprawl. Might as well get comfortable seeing as this tension seems destined to escalate into a pissing contest before long.

“So how’s our fiery little cherub holding up anyway?” I murmur, tucking a hand behind my head as I meet Hayes’ gaze. “Eager to bed and wed the feisty Miss West once we’ve worn her pride down to a nub?”

A muscle twitches in his chiselled jaw, whisky-hued eyes flicking between me and the bickering duo with a shrug. “Couldn’t give a flying fuck to be candid,” he mutters, bringing the beer bottle to his lips for a long pull. “Only one of us carries any real obligations on that front. The rest just get to sit back and watch Arius make a twat of himself per usual.”

My brows hitch as I allow my stare to linger appreciatively along the elegant lines of Hayes’ profile. He’s always been the most outwardly reserved amongst our lot, all that brooding silence concealing a sharp wit and no small amount of cynicism regarding the Academy’s unsavoury traditions.

“I don’t know, mate,” I murmur, pitching my voice to be heard over Arius and Rhys’ escalating jibes. “I get the sense our foul-mouthed kitten might give as good as she gets in the end. Could make for a rather… stimulating viewing experience if nothing else.”

Hayes huffs a quiet chuckle, those piercing shards glinting with reluctant amusement as he angles me a sidelong look. “That mouth of hers does seem purpose-built for wrapping around a nice thick cock at the very least. May even send our esteemed Duke into paroxysms of ecstasy before the night’s done.”

A sudden hush falls over the room as all eyes swivel to Arius, the timbre of his voice dripping with lethal threat. “I don’t need any of you pricks flapping your gobs to remind me what’s at stake here! Just let me worry about taming the bitch in my own fashion, yeah? The rest of you had best focus your energies on not cocking this entire operation up any further than you already—”

Whatever lacerating sentiment Arius was poised to unleash gets abruptly severed as his head whips around, nostrils flaring subtly. I follow the minute gesture, pulse kicking up an eager stutter as a familiar figure drifts past the open doorway before disappearing back into the roiling throng beyond.