Page 4 of Wicked Chains (Serpentine Academy #2)

I keep scanning and nearly choke on my breath when I spot Soren among the faculty section.

Unlike Lucien, he looks completely at ease, lounging in his chair with his usual casual insolence.

His dark eyes roam the crowd, and when they land on me, his expression doesn't change.

No acknowledgment. No silent communication. Nothing.

What the actual fuck? Yesterday he was on the floor, unconscious, after trying to protect me. Today, he's acting like we've never met? Like nothing happened?

A server passes by, offering me champagne. I take it, needing something to do with my hands before I start tearing my hair out.

"To new beginnings," Helena says, raising her glass.

Everyone follows suit, but I can’t. I think I’d choke on it. Across the room, Lucien does the same, raising but not drinking. Soren, on the other hand, downs his champagne in one go.

Could they both be under some kind of control? But Ash didn't use any obvious mind-control spell on Lucien, he just physically paralyzed him. And Soren was simply knocked unconscious. There wasn't time for elaborate binding spells or loyalty enchantments.

Which means either they're playing along for some reason, or...

I don't want to finish that thought.

Helena is still talking, something along the lines of "honoring traditions while embracing necessary change," but I've stopped listening.

My eyes search the room desperately for any sign of Drake.

Nothing. Not even a shimmer in the air or a cold spot.

My chest tightens. Where is he? What did Ash do to him?

"And finally," Helena says, her voice cutting through my thoughts, "I'd like to acknowledge a special student among us today."

My blood turns to ice as her gaze fixes directly on me.

"Rose Smith, whose unique lineage and remarkable abilities make her an invaluable member of our community."

Every head in the room turns toward me. I feel exposed, pinned in place by dozens of curious stares.

"We have great plans for you, Ms. Smith."

Over Helena's shoulder, I catch a glimpse of a figure entering from the side of the stage, someone tall, arresting, familiar.

Ash.

His forest green eyes find me instantly in the crowd, and I realize he’s probably been watching me the whole time. The slight curl of his lips makes it clear: I'm not just a student anymore. I'm property. And the Blood Moon Coven has just claimed ownership.

Ash moves through the crowd with the easy attitude of someone who knows he's the most dangerous person in the room.

Students part before him like water, some looking curious, others admiring.

If they only knew what he really was. His eyes never leave mine as he approaches, that same cold smile playing at his lips.

"Rose," he says when he reaches me, his voice carrying just enough for those nearby to hear. "You should join me at the front. Helena is eager to speak with you."

It's not a request. It's a command disguised as a polite invitation, and the expectation that I'll comply is evident. Everyone is watching me.

"I'm good here, thank you," I say, mimicking his fake politeness while staying firmly in my seat.

Irritation flashes in his eyes. He clearly didn't expect public defiance.

"I insist," he says, extending a hand toward me. His tone is still pleasant, but there's an edge to it now, a warning.

"And I decline," I counter, meeting his gaze. My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure everyone can hear it, but I keep my face a mask.

The people around us shift uncomfortably.

Ash's smile tightens, the mask of civility slipping just enough for me to see the rage underneath. Let him get angry. Angry people make mistakes.

"Rose," he says, softer now, almost intimate. "Don't make this difficult."

"I'm not making anything difficult," I reply, still not moving. "I'm just enjoying the assembly from my current seat. But thanks for your concern."

A small crease appears between his eyebrows, and for a moment, I think he might drop the act entirely and drag me to the front by my hair.

Part of me almost wishes he would. At least then everyone would see what kind of monster is really taking over our school.

Whether they would care is another story.

Instead, he straightens, adjusting his shirt cuffs. "Very well."

The relief I feel doesn’t last long. Ash's eyes drop to my arm, where the mark is hidden beneath my sleeve, and he smiles.

I gasp, my hand automatically clutching at my arm. The pain is immediate, but it's nothing compared to what comes next.

Something hooks into my chest, and yanks. My body moves without my permission, rising from my seat as I try to resist, to plant my feet, to sit back down, but there’s no fighting it. My muscles aren't my own anymore. It’s like vampire compulsion on steroids.

"What are you doing?" Panic rises as I take one step forward, then another, my body moving on its own. "Stop it!"

But Ash just watches, that same cold smile in place, as I walk toward him with jerky, puppet-like movements. Students stare, confused by my sudden change of heart and awkward gait.

When I reach him, the invisible hook in my chest contorts, and my knees buckle. I fight it with everything I have, but it's useless. My legs give out and I drop to my knees at Ash's feet like a beggar before a king.

The humiliation is worse than the pain in my arm. I'm kneeling on the floor of the Great Hall, surrounded by my peers, completely powerless to stop what's happening to me.

"What a touching display of respect," Ash says loudly. His hand comes to rest on the top of my head, the gesture possessive and demeaning.

Ash crouches down, bringing his face level with mine. To anyone watching, it probably looks like he's having a friendly chat with a student. But there's nothing friendly in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair from my face.

"Everyone in this room will soon understand that you belong to me, Rose Smith," he murmurs so only I can hear him.

"Fuck you," I breathe.

"Such spirit. It will make breaking you all the more satisfying."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Soren, rising slightly from his seat, his expression darkening as he watches Ash's hand on me. I can see the tightness in his body, the protective streak in him that I glimpsed yesterday is still there, despite his apparent alliance with the new regime.

I squint my eyes, trying to communicate without words. Not now. Not here.

Whether he gets the message or just decides on his own, Soren settles back into his seat, though his eyes remain on Ash and me. Lucien is watching too, his face still carefully blank but his crimson eyes narrowed.

Ash notices my attention shift and follows my eyes to the two men. "Your friends can't help you," he says softly. “They’ve made their choices.”

The magical compulsion finally releases me, and I nearly collapse forward with the sudden return of control over my own body. I catch myself, refusing to show more weakness than he's already forced from me. Slowly, I rise to my feet, my legs shaking with the aftereffects.

"I'll never choose you," I say. "Whatever you think you've won, you haven't."

"You misunderstand, Rose. I don't need you to choose me." He touches my arm where the mark is, the gesture intimate and unwelcome. "I already own you."

He turns and walks away, gesturing for me to follow. The mark pulses in warning, but he doesn't activate it again. He doesn't need to. The message has been delivered, to me and to everyone watching.

I'm on a leash, and he holds the other end.

I follow him toward the front of the hall, taking stock of everything I now know. Lucien and Soren are alive but aligned with the Blood Moon Coven. Drake is missing. Headmistress Wickersly is gone, replaced by her power-hungry sister. And I'm bound by blood magic to an even worse threat.

But I'm still breathing. Still thinking. And as long as that's true, this isn't over.