Page 2

CHAPTER 2

Malakai

Campus on move-in day is a fucking zoo. Kids and their helicopter parents swarming the place, hauling boxes like it’s some weird suburban Olympics. I’m leaning against the wall near the ice rink entrance, one boot propped against the bricks, waiting for the guys to finish their grand tour of the fresh meat.

Most of these new recruits look like they’ve barely crawled out of high school. Soft. Naive. Easy prey. I've made sure for two years straight now that these freshmen learn the drill, learn who has the real power in this college. As a freshman, I learned how to scheme my way to the top, so these little shits should do the same. Or be losers. No other way.

“Yo, Malakai, you coming?” Nate, one of my teammates, calls out as he slaps a freshman on the back hard enough to make him stumble.

“In a minute,” I reply, lighting a cigarette. Technically, it’s not allowed on campus, but I don’t give a damn. Let someone try to stop me.

I exhale a cloud of smoke, watching the chaos unfold. And then I see him . Alex fucking Callahan. Golden boy. Daddy’s little preacher son. Hockey’s next big thing—or so he thinks. He’s trying way too hard to look casual as he carries a box up the dorm steps. Poor bastard’s got desperation written all over him.

But it’s not him who catches my eye.

No, it’s her . The girl trailing behind him, struggling with a box that looks like it’s about to crush her. She’s average height, maybe 5’5”, with dark brown hair pulled back in a messy ponytail that she keeps swiping out of her face.

She’s got this curvy-but-still-slender figure that makes my mouth twitch into a smirk. Tight jeans hug her hips just right, and her tank top clings to her in all the places that matter. But it’s her eyes—big, dark, and way too fucking trusting—that hold me in place.

She’s helping him. Moving his shit like a good little girlfriend.

“Who’s that?” Nate comes up beside me, following my gaze.

“No one,” I say, even though I can’t tear my eyes away. She stumbles on the stairs, and Alex doesn’t even notice. Of course he doesn’t. Dickhead probably thinks she should thank him for letting her tag along.

As they disappear into the building, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out, glancing at the screen.

Hey, the other night was fun. When can I see you again?

The text is from... hell, I don’t even remember her name. Jessica? Jenny? Doesn’t matter. I delete the message and put the phone away without a second thought. Obviously, since I don't even remember this girl's name, she isn't worth even a nanosecond of my time.

I'm more interested in this other girl. Alex's girlfriend. When I look back, she’s standing in the dorm room window, gazing out like she’s already questioning her life choices. Smart girl. If she’s tied to Callahan, though, she’s not smart enough.

“Let’s move,” I say, pushing off the wall.

“Where to?” Nate asks, falling into step beside me.

“Nowhere you need to be.”

I cut across the quad, keeping my pace casual, but every step pulls me closer to the dorm. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the curiosity, the way she looked so out of place next to Alex’s preppy arrogance. Or maybe it’s just that I haven’t seen anyone worth my time all day, and she’s the first thing that’s caught my interest.

I stop at the edge of the building, leaning against the corner like I’m waiting for someone. From here, I can see the dorm room through the open window. Alex is pacing, talking with that same over-the-top animation he always uses when he’s trying to sell a story. She’s sitting on the bed, nodding, her expression somewhere between concerned and bored. She cares about whatever bullshit he’s feeding her, but not that much.

Poor girl. She’s in for a rude awakening if she thinks Alex Callahan gives a damn about anyone but himself. Well, I admire that, really. I don't give a damn about anyone I don't call "me." The only difference is, I'm me , the one that calls the shots and the one with power. Alex... he'll soon realize he's the LVP—least valuable player. I laugh at my own joke.

“Malakai.”

I glance over my shoulder to see another one of the guys from the Pantheon’s inner circle, Jameson, standing there with his arms crossed. “You planning to stand here all day, or you actually gonna do something useful?”

“Watching the recruits,” I say, flicking ash from my cigarette.

“Bullshit.” He leans against the wall next to me, smirking. “You’re watching her .”

“She’s with Callahan.”

Jameson raises an eyebrow. “And that matters because...?”

I don’t answer. I don’t need to. He knows as well as I do that Alex is a pawn. A means to an end. The bastard doesn’t even know what he’s walking into yet. By the time I’m done with him, he’ll wish he never set foot on this campus.

But her? She’s something else. Something I didn’t plan for.

“Careful, Malakai,” Jameson says, pushing off the wall. “Distractions like that can fuck up a plan faster than anything.”

“I don’t get distracted.” My voice is cold, final.

“Whatever you say.” He claps me on the shoulder before walking off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I stay there longer than I should, watching through the window as Alex grabs his phone and leaves the room. The girl—I know her name's Raven, because of course I've done my research on Alex—follows him to the door, watching him go with a worried look on her face. She doesn’t follow. Smart.

When she closes the door and disappears from view, I head back toward the ice rink, but my thoughts are spinning like the puck during a faceoff. Alex is easy. Predictable. The kind of guy who’s so desperate to prove himself that he’ll do anything I tell him, no questions asked. Guys like him are a dime a dozen, and breaking them is practically a sport.

But her ? Raven’s different. She doesn’t scream easy prey, but there’s something about her—something I can use.

Alex already sees her as an extension of himself, a loyal shadow who’ll do whatever he asks. I wonder how far that loyalty goes. What would she do to protect him? To keep that perfect little golden-boy life intact?

I bet she’d do a lot. Maybe even more than Alex would.

The gears in my head start turning. There’s potential here—more than I realized at first glance. She’s the kind of girl who looks harmless, but under the right pressure, she could shatter beautifully. And if she breaks in just the right way, she could be the key to taking Alex down.

I picture her dark eyes wide with fear, her lips trembling as she tries to hold her ground. She’d hate me. She’d fight me. And in the end, she’d lose, just like they all do.

A wicked smile spreads across my face as I step into the rink. I already know how this story plays out. Raven just doesn’t know she’s part of it yet.

But she will. Soon enough.

The Pantheon isn’t just a club.

It isn’t some frat, some weak-ass brotherhood where guys pretend they’ve got each other’s backs while secretly waiting to stab them.

The Pantheon is power . It’s legacy . It’s the closest thing to a fucking empire this school has ever seen.

And right now?

I’m making sure Nate and Jameson remember that.

The three of us stand in one of the back rooms of the Pantheon’s private hall, a dimly lit space lined with old bookshelves and leather chairs that nobody actually sits in. A long wooden table takes up the center of the room, its surface polished to perfection.

I pace in front of them, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Jameson leans against the table, watching me. “You called us here for a history lesson, or you gonna get to the point?”

I shoot him a look. “ The point is that the Pantheon isn’t what it used to be. The old leaders got soft . They let in guys who didn’t have the balls to carry this legacy forward.”

Nate tilts his head. “And you think you can fix that?”

I smirk. “I know I can.” Apart from me, Nate, and Jameson, we have two others in the inner circle—Liam and Greyson.

Jameson exhales, shaking his head. “So what’s your grand plan, oh fearless leader?”

I stop pacing, planting my hands on the table. “We take everything back.”

Nate folds his arms. “Define 'everything.'”

I roll my shoulders, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. “The Pantheon isn’t just about status—it’s about control. We decide who wins, who loses. We shape the future of this university. And I’m done letting weak men make the rules.”

Jameson smirks. “So you want to clean house.”

“Damn right.” I glance between them. “We start with the pledges. No more entitled rich kids who think they belong here just because their daddy cut a check. If they want in, they prove they’re worthy. They fight for it.”

Nate raises a brow. “That includes Callahan?”

The name makes my jaw tighten.

Alex fucking Callahan.

Golden boy. Daddy’s favorite. The guy who’s been coasting on a legacy he didn’t earn.

I force a smirk. “ Especially Callahan.”

Jameson chuckles. “You’ve got a personal vendetta there, huh?”

I meet his gaze, my voice cold. “It’s not personal. It’s necessary.”

Nate studies me for a moment before nodding. “Alright. What’s next?”

I straighten, my smirk returning. “We remind everyone what The Pantheon really is.”

I glance at the table, at the old crest carved into the wood—The Pantheon’s symbol, etched deep like a battle scar.

This society was built on power. On fear.

And it’s time we bring that back.