Page 26 of The Villain's Beast

“It’s still a tradition,” he finished for me.

I nodded, shivering when he dragged his fingers up my spine and back down again.

“I don’t want to do it” he said, like he’d meant it as an offering even though neither of us was in a position to let him out of his responsibilities.

“This isn’t a matter of want.”

The initiation had been a standard for generations, my father and grandfather both bore the scars from it, and shortly I would as well. It was no small affair when a new Sinclair came to power, and the fact Gideon and I were both the same age, coming into our roles at the same time…

Almost unheard of.

Either way, whether both of us together or one of us alone, my father had done right by keeping the reality of initiationweekend a secret until it was too late for me to back out, because if I’d known the truth, I wasn’t sure I’d have gone through with it. No, that was a lie. If I hadn’t walked away from the Sinclair name yet, the initiation ritual wouldn’t have been the thing to push me any closer to that outcome.

The incoming president—in this case presidents—had to go through an initiation ritual at the start of their senior year. Tradition was tradition and even though I’d been at Rose Hill for the first three years of school, the president’s seat sat vacant until my final year. There was no real reason for it I could make sense of, save counting three more years to keep the heir in line. The initiation was meant to demonstrate a handful of things—the first of which being my loyalty to my family, the second being everyone else’s loyalty to me. It was intended to demean us all, but under the guise of an outdated ritual hazing designed to keep everyone—including me—in line.

“What is the point of whipping you?” Daren asked, still positioned behind me, hand still steady on my back. “What’s it meant to prove?”

“It’s to demonstrate my self-control,” I told him, swallowing. “My self-restraint.”

“Chasing a first year through the woods with blood streaming down you back doesn’t reek of either of those things.”

“The chase is the reward.” I turned halfway so I could see his face. “The restraint comes from not tearingyouinto pieces first.”

“I don’t want to do this,” he repeated.

“Honestly, Daren.” I needed to get his reluctant voice out of my head and get my shit together. I didn’t need doubt. I needed focus. I needed to breathe. “What you want doesn’t fucking matter in this house and it never will.”

The initiation rituals had been guarded secrets until it was too late for any of us to try and back out. We’d learned Daren was meant to whip me with a leather strap until my skin wasflayed open, all while I recited my promises and vows to him and everyone else in attendance. Then, as a reward for the dedication demonstrated by both of us, I was to chase an offering—an initiate—into the woods and claim them as my own. It was feral and primal, surely designed to beg submission from everyone around me. It was also designed as a reminder to me that sex was as much of a bargaining tool as money ever would be.

“You’re right. Sorry, Fletcher.” His answer was quiet and responsible. It was contained and it was archaic. It was what was expected of him. “Can I…”

He trailed off, jaw ticking just below his ear.

“Can you what?”

“Nothing.”

“You can do whatever you have to,” I told him. “Count out the five and make sure you draw blood before you’re finished so you don’t have to do any more than that.”

Daren looked like he wanted to argue, the protest tangled around his pursed lips and the tense set of his shoulders. At his side, his fingers flexed, knuckles whitening.

“And then I’ll clean you up when you make it back,” he said.

“I won’t need a nursemaid.”

“You can’t take one part of the ritual and not the other,” Daren snapped. “What’s the fucking point again? Teamwork?”

“There’s no team here,” I said.

Sure, the ritual had always been sold that way to people who weren’t in charge, but my father told me a different story when we’d talked about the initiation expectations. The second was meant to draw first blood and clean up the mess because that was what was expected of them in the real world. It was as much a loyalty test for Daren as it would be for me. But while Daren viewed the process as a service, I saw it for what it really was.

Someone lesser than me obeying orders. Even uncomfortable ones.

It was his chance to prove himself to me, while I proved myself to everyone else.

“Do you have everything you need for the chase?” he asked, clearing his throat and taking his hand away from my back.

“Yes,” I rasped, grateful for the change in topic.