GLYNDON

Something moves between my legs and I mumble a whine.

It thickens and I startle awake. At first, I’m disoriented,

my mind foggy with sleep and my response slower than a

vintage train.

But I don’t get to react.

A shadow looms over me, large and threatening. He pulls my

legs apart with a strong hand and I open my mouth to shriek, but

he slams a palm over it.

Terror courses through me and I begin to hyperventilate. My

heart thunders to life with frightening intensity.

I scream, but the only sound that comes out is a haunted

muffled noise.

He expertly removes my knickers and I try kicking my legs, but

he slaps them, forcing me to remain in place. His finger traces my

folds and I close my eyes with shame.

“Mmm. I knew you’d be soaking wet, baby. Were you

fantasizing about how I’d come through the window and deflower

this tight little cunt?”

I shake my head, but I can hardly move it due to his brute

strength. God, I can’t believe I’m being turned on by being

ambushed.

By Killian.

The psycho Killian.

The monster Killian.

The predator Killian, who’ll eat me alive and scatter my bones

in that firefly lake.

With the lack of light, his face is a huge shadow that’s able to

devour me in mere seconds.

“You’re messing up my fingers and you still dare to lie to me?”

His voice darkens, becoming one with the night. “Maybe you’ll

stop the lies when I’m pounding this cunt. You won’t have the

chance to lie when your blood is smeared all over my cock. You

might be screaming, though, but guess what? No one will hear

you.”

He positions himself between my legs and chuckles, the sound

low and absolutely terrifying. “Look at you dripping onto the

mattress at the promise of being deflowered like a dirty little

whore instead of an innocent virgin. Deep down, you like this,

don’t you? You want to be forced to lose control. That way, you’d

be comforted by the fact that you didn’t agree to this. It’s your

mind’s way of assuming you’re not the twisted one who actually

fantasizes about this. It’s fine, though. I’ll be your villain, baby.”

My eyes widen. How the hell does he know about those

fantasies? I didn’t even talk about them to my closest friends—not

even my therapist.

“Mmm. You’re grinding against my fingers again. I like it when

you’re horny for me.” His voice lowers. “But only me. No one will

see this erotic version of you. Isn’t that right, baby?”

I freeze when I realize that I am in fact sliding up and down

against his fingers, reaching for a forbidden type of friction.

No, no…

I seal my eyes shut and breathe heavily, internally chanting.

This is a nightmare, only a nightmare, breathe, inhale, exhale,

don’t let it consume you…

The weight that’s been trapping me slowly disappears and the

smell of wood and amber vanishes as well.

A murmur of voices follow, but I release a breath. It’s a

nightmare. I’m fine.

It’s fine.

“Is she really asleep?” Bran’s voice.

I frown. He shouldn’t be in my nightmares.

“Yeah,” Cecily whispers back. “You know, she barely sleeps

lately and keeps staring or dreaming awake or something. It was

becoming really bad until…well, maybe a few days ago. She’s

constantly looking over her shoulder, but she’s not zoned out.”

“I’ve been worried sick. You have no idea,” Ava says.

“Keep it down or she’ll wake up,” Cecily whisper-yells. “It’s

already a miracle that she’s sleeping.”

“Are you hiding it from her?” Bran sounds a bit distant, a bit

hard, not like the Bran I know.

“Yeah, rest assured, she won’t find that filth.”

Their voices drift into one another, mixing, becoming an echo,

like a giant speaker from far away.

Trepidation trickles down my spine. What’s the filth Cecily

mentioned?

And is this really a nightmare?

I can’t concentrate during class, in the studio, or even when I

talk to Dr. Ferrell on the phone.

Somehow, I can’t figure out if that nightmare was real or not.

Ava and Cecily said they went to sleep right after they kicked

Remi and the others out, so maybe it wasn’t?

I did wake up with my underwear soaked, though. Real or not,

I shouldn’t be aroused at the prospect of being raped.

Just what the hell is wrong with me?

Maybe the Killian from the nightmare, as terrifying as he was,

is right, and I’m secretly into that?

No, nope. I’m simply not going there.

“Can you believe it?”

I lift my head at Annika’s voice. It’s the middle of the day, and

we’re sitting near the fountain with two sculpted angels pouring

water into it. The plan was to soak in the sun, but it’s currently

playing hide-and-seek behind the clouds, so every now and then,

a shadow interrupts the warmth.

Students buzz around us, dressed in all sorts of styles with

their hair as colorful as the rainbow. Annika and I are probably

the only ones who haven’t dyed our hair.

I let my red marker draw absentmindedly on my pad and eat

my sandwich with my free hand. I’m shit at having actual meals,

and Mum will lecture me for a year if she finds out I’m surviving

on sandwiches and burgers and anything where I don’t have to

put in any effort.

Annika has a whole food container. It’s filled with salad and

other healthy stuff, but it looks as aesthetic as her. Even her fork

and knife are purple.

She finishes chewing on her bite of food and thrusts her phone

in my face. It’s on IG’s search, Creighton King.

A few accounts appear, but none of them belong to my cousin.

“He really has no social media. Like none. It’s the same for all

other platforms.”

“He’s not big on those.”

“Is he a caveman? I’m ready to believe that he time-traveled

from the past over the fact that he has no social media.”

“Honestly? He might as well be.”

She inches closer. “What else can you tell me about him?”

“Why are you asking?” I give her a knowing look.

“Don’t give me that. I just think he’s awfully Ice Age in

mentality and it’s my job to bring him to modern times.”

“Remi’s doing that just fine. He’s the extrovert who adopted

him, so he’s like Creigh’s surrogate father.”

“He’s too hopeless and needs two extroverts adopting him.

Why is he so…silent? No matter how many questions I asked him,

he flat out ignored me.”

“He’s not really talkative. You see him but don’t hear him.”

“Aww, that’s just sad.”

“Being quiet isn’t sad, Anni. Some of us just…prefer silence.”

“Are you saying I’m being too loud?”

“No. Well, a little.” I sigh. “But I’m used to it from Ava, so you

can talk all you want.”

“Wow. I’m honored. I can’t believe I’m being shamed for being

energetic.”

“Well, you were just shaming Cray Cray for being quiet.”

“Aww, you guys call him Cray Cray? That’s so cute for

someone so hot.”

I grin. “You think my cousin is hot?”

“Well, of course he is. Are you blind?”

“You’re so straightforward. Go for it, girl.”

She lets out a long sigh, then eats a bite of her salad. “I can

only admire from afar. Unless I want the person I admire to be

killed by my brother and father. Besides, my marriage is probably

already decided. So I’m just living life for as long as I can.”

“I’m sorry, Anni.” Being a mafia princess must be a lot of

pressure, too. Just different from the type our family names and

our parents’ accomplishments put on us.

She throws up a dismissive hand. “I’ll think about that when

the time comes. Now, I’ll just be a normal college student.”

“You should probably stay away from Creigh, though. He is

really as you saw yesterday. There’s no hidden door or a secret

path.”

A gleam of mischief passes through her eyes. “Or that’s what

you think. There’s always something to discover.”

“What if you’re disappointed by what you discover? What if it’s

way different from what you bargained for?” Not sure if I’m asking

for her or someone else.

“That’s what makes it even more fun!”

“Suit yourself.”

“Can you invite them over later? Or wait, I can ask Remi.” She

types a message in a conversation that seems so long. Wow. Did

these two start talking only yesterday? That’s basically the length

of my conversations with people I’ve known all my life.

Anni pauses mid-typing, her expression falling. “I forgot that I

have to stay with Jer tonight.”

“Jeremy willingly invited you over? I thought he was actively

keeping you away from his club.”

“He is, but this time is different. He needs to keep an eye on

me within the mansion they live in because Papa’s guards have

full access there.”

“What’s going to happen tonight?”

She searches her surroundings. “The Heathens’ initiation

ceremony. It happens, like, twice a year. They did a mockup at

the end of the previous semester and the attendance was huge.

It’s brutal as hell, let me tell you.”

My fingers shake at the mention of Jeremy’s friends and I

force them back into stillness.

Of course Killian will be the first in line for anything brutal.

“How brutal are we talking about?”

“Whatever you can’t imagine. Just leave your life and dignity

at the door if you want to get into this. You also need to receive

the invitation text, or you can forget it.”

“So they choose their potential members?”

“Of course they do. Otherwise, they’d be wasting their time

with weaklings. It’s why most participants are the toughest ones

from The King’s U. I heard they’re sending a few invitations to

REU students this year, but that’s probably so the Heathens can

use them as spies. Not sure.”

“Does it get dangerous?”

“I’m sure it does. The original members would wear these

neon purge mask things and terrorize the potential members so

that only the strong remained. I heard that some student drove

himself off a cliff after the last initiation.”

The half-eaten sandwich remains suspended near my mouth

as blood drains from my face. “W-what did you just say?”

Annika is completely oblivious to my state and digs her fork in

her salad, the sound heightened in my overly simulated head.

“Not sure what happened, but I heard he almost got into the

club, but didn’t, and the next day, he drove off a cliff. They ruled

it as a suicide, but you never know with these things. Like it’s so

easy to disguise death as anything when you have the right

resources. Maybe they killed him, maybe they played with his

brakes, or maybe it was just suicide. You can’t dismiss any

option… Oh my God, why are you crying?”

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. Annika gets close

and pats my shoulder. “Are you okay? Did you actually know

him?”

Slowly, I nod. “He was my friend.”

Her expression morphs to one of horror before she winces.

“I’m so sorry, Glyn.”

“You don’t have to be.” But the people who made him drive off

that cliff should be.

I always wondered what made Devlin take that drastic

decision, but now that I know he was part of some satanic club’s

initiation, it all makes sense.

Hidden hands pushed him off that cliff.

And maybe finding out exactly who’s behind his death will

finally give me the closure I’ve been searching for.

But how on earth will I be able to get an invitation?

A shadow falls over us, bigger than the casual cloud. The

scent is enough to know who’s behind it, and I stare up at Killian.

The sun casts a bright shadow on his face and dark hair that

appears bluish under the light. The hard contours of his face

mesh in a symphony of physical supremacy. And his black

trousers and shirt only add to his immortal charisma.

I hate how beautiful he looks, but what I hate the most is the

booming flutter in my chest upon seeing him.

Or the memory of his fingers between my legs.

Or how wet I was.

No, nope. Not the right thought to have in front of a monster

who smells such emotions from a planet away.

Gathering my wits, I ask, “What are you doing here?”

“It almost sounds as if you don’t want me here.”

“Wow, am I that obvious?”

He narrows his eyes, “I can get any access card I want.” Then

he slides his attention to Annika. “Time to go, princess.”

She stiffened as soon as he showed up, probably because of

his relationship with her brother. “I have classes this afternoon.”

“That you won’t attend.”

“Ugh.” She glares up at him. “And why did you come to fetch

me?”

“Volunteered.” He grins down at me and I wish I could become

one with the ground. “I can let you stay here for a bit more if you

invite me to your little picnic.”

“You can stay—”

Annika hasn’t even finished her sentence before Killian

physically barges between us and steals an olive from her.

“Is that a homage to me? It’s even red.” He points at what I’ve

been sketching—an unfinished portrait.

I slam my sketchbook shut. “Not everything in this life is about

you.”

“Not in this life, no. But your life? Debatable.”

“I’m just…” I start to mumble an excuse to leave.

“Don’t be a killjoy.” He waves in Annika’s direction. “She only

has whatever time I allow her, and then she’s coming with me to

be imprisoned in her ivory tower for the night. You have it in you

to cut that little time off?”

I purse my lips, then reluctantly stay. This isn’t for the bastard.

It’s for Annika, who’s already looking miserable, her shoulders

hunched and her movements sluggish.

“Can’t she stay in the dorm with us tonight?” I ask.

“No can do.”

“You guys are dictators.”

A lazy grin lifts his lips. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, the worst ever. Might want to check your ego with a

shrink. I can refer you to mine if you want.”

He hums, the sound low in his throat. “You have a shrink?”

The question is innocent enough, but it makes me realize that

I’ve divulged too much information.

Maybe he thinks I’m crazy. Maybe he’s one of those ignorant

people who thinks a shrink equals a psych ward.

Not that I care.

Jesus.

I lift my chin. “Yeah, I do.”

“Refer me.”

I stare at him for a second too long. Doubtful doesn’t even

begin to explain my emotions. “Are you for real?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Countless times.”

“That wasn’t lying. I was giving you choices. Not my fault you

go for the hard ones.” He nudges my shoulder with his, and I

swear I nearly catch fire where he touches me. “I’m serious about

the referral.”

“You would willingly go to a shrink?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Because he’s too assertive in his sick ways, that’s why. People

who go to shrinks hope to become better, but I’m pretty sure

Killian thinks this is the best version of himself.

“You realize you’re sick and need therapy?” I try to take a jab

at him.

“No, I just want to see the face of the person you tell your

deepest, darkest secrets to.”

Of course the bastard just wants to get on my nerves.

“Why are those weirdos watching you like creeps?” Anni

interrupts our intense eye contact, and I break it to focus on

where she’s tilting her head.

I groan. “Never mind them. I’m not really liked in my class

because they think I get preferential treatment for who my mum

is. Even my professor likes to criticize me more than he does

them. So I’ve just gotten used to it.”

Killian hums for a beat, then stares at me. “What’s the name

of the professor?”

“Skies. Why are you asking?”

“Just curious.” He smiles and if I were to see him on TV for the

first time, I’d find him charming, crushworthy even, but

unfortunately, I know what hides beneath that smile too well. “By

the way, you should go to sleep early tonight. No roaming in

weird places.”

“What are you now, my father?”

“Shouldn’t that be frowned upon in your moral code,

considering I plan to fuck you?”

I choke on my own spit and Annika grins like an idiot. “Never

mind me, guys. Think of me as a wallflower.”

Killian doesn’t seem to notice she exists in the first place.

“I mean it. No going out.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my

ear. “Be good.”

A shudder goes through me. I can’t help it. I really, really can’t

help it and I hate how vulnerable this makes me feel.

Even as I pull away from him. As I stare at the distance and

try to ignore him.

But he uses Annika to make me talk, and he asks all sorts of

questions about uni and art and my professors. Whenever I refuse

to answer, he starts being a wanker.

It’s scary how fast he can flip from the amicable version of

himself to the insufferable one.

When Jeremy calls him, he finally takes Annika and stands.

“Behave,” he whispers against my forehead before planting a

chaste kiss there that makes my toes curl.

My phone vibrates and I try to gather my bearings as Annika

gives me a sad hug and says she’ll miss us tonight.

Then she turns and leaves with Killian.

I release the breath I’ve been holding since he showed up and

fish out my phone to find a text.

Heathens: Congratulations! You are invited to the Heathens’

initiation ceremony. Please show the attached QR code upon

arrival to the club’s compound at four p.m. sharp.