Chapter 32

Seraphina

I wake slowly. For a moment, I feel weightless, floating in the warmth of sleep, my body heavy and sore in the most delicious way. Then awareness creeps in—the steady rise and fall of a chest against my back, the solid arm draped over my waist, anchoring me in place.

Damon.

The memory of last night slams into me all at once. My breath catches, my skin tingling in the places they touched, the places they claimed. And worse—the words I let slip. I told him too much. My pulse spikes, panic curling in my stomach as I replay every detail of the bath, the conversation. I wasn’t supposed to let my guard down. I wasn’t supposed to give them anything real.

Yet here I am, wrapped in the aftermath. And the strangest thing is… I don’t feel unsafe.

I should. But I don’t.

The thought unsettles me almost as much as Damon’s presence does. His body molds against mine—firm muscle, effortless heat, breath warm against my nape. I need to get out of here.

Carefully, I shift, trying to slip out from under his arm without waking him. I don’t even make it an inch.

The second I move, Damon tightens his grip, pulling me flush against his chest with a low, sleepy murmur. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Class,” I whisper, stilling as his nose brushes the curve of my shoulder. “I need clothes.”

He exhales, slow and deep, his lips grazing my skin. “Stay a little longer.”

The way he says it makes something twist inside me. It’s not a demand. It’s not even an expectation. It’s an invitation.

And maybe that’s why it’s so dangerous.

I swallow hard, pressing my palm against his chest. “I can’t.”

His dark eyes flicker open—groggy, but sharp—locking onto mine. His gaze drifts lower, over my bare skin, and something flickers in his expression—possession, satisfaction.

He leans in slightly, his voice a husky murmur. “You’re lucky I’m letting you go at all.”

I arch a brow, smirking despite myself. “Letting me?”

His smirk is slower, more deliberate. “For now.”

I push at his chest until he finally sighs and releases me. As I sit up, stretching sore muscles, Damon watches me like he’s already planning ways to keep me from slipping through his fingers again.

“You’re right, you need clothes,” he says, standing and grabbing a hoodie and pair of sweats from his dresser. “Or we’ll be staying in this bed all day.” He tosses them to me with a smirk, then leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching as I pull them on.

The hoodie swallows me, the scent of him wrapping around me like a second skin. I roll the sleeves up, ignoring the way his eyes darken.

“Can we stop at Alpha Phi first?” I ask, adjusting the hoodie. “I need something that actually fits.”

His jaw ticks, like he doesn’t love the idea, but he nods. “Fine. But food first.”

When we walk into the dining area, every conversation halts for a fraction of a second before resuming—as if they’re all trying to pretend they weren’t just talking about me. The Sigma Phi brothers are good at masking their emotions. But the pledges aren’t. They stare outright—some in disbelief, some in envy.

Marius and Tyrone are already at the table. Marius sips his coffee like he’s been waiting for us, his unreadable blue eyes flicking over me, the slightest tension in his shoulders betraying his thoughts.

Tyrone, on the other hand, smirks like he’s been expecting this. His gaze sweeps over the hoodie I’m wearing, his smirk deepening. “Well, well. Looks like someone had a good night.”

I roll my eyes, reaching past him to grab a piece of toast. “Don’t be a dick, Tyrone.”

His chuckle is low, amused. His hand snakes around my waist, pulling me into his lap. “Now, now, no need to be feisty. We all know you enjoyed yourself,” he whispers in my ear, breath sending shivers down my spine.

Marius sets his coffee down, finally speaking. “You’re going back to Alpha Phi?”

The simple question is loaded.

I look up, meeting his gaze. “I need to put on clothes of my own that actually fit, before class.”

He doesn’t argue. He just watches me—silent, as if deciding whether to let me go without resistance.

I get the distinct feeling that if he wanted to, he could stop me.

Not with force.

With something far more dangerous.

I push down the thought and finish my toast. The three men finish their breakfast, and we all pile outside silently and into one of their cars. They wait outside while I go into the house.

Once I’ve changed at Alpha Phi, I feel the suffocating weight of expectation settle over me again. The forced smiles. The shallow conversations. The perfect, manicured world I’m supposed to blend into.

I hate it.

The only thing keeping me sane through the day is the constant presence of the men. Every class I share with them, they make sure I’m near. The smallest touches—Marius’ hand on my lower back as he passes behind me, Damon’s fingers brushing my wrist, Tyrone’s knuckles grazing my thigh under the desk—keep me on edge, aware, tethered to something real.

But as the sun starts to dip, that restlessness creeps back in.

I need space.

“I have to go,” I say, shifting my bag higher on my shoulder. “One of my sisters is throwing a party tonight, and I have to be there.”

Damon watches me carefully. “And you actually want to go?”

I hesitate a fraction of a second too long. “It’s just a party.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I force a small smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

His jaw flexes. “No. Just not sure you should be there without us.”

It’s not a question. It’s a warning.

Tyrone leans against the nearest wall, arms crossed. “Be careful, Seri. I’d hate to have to ruin some poor guy’s life if they touched what belongs to us.”

A rush of heat curls low in my stomach at the possessiveness in his tone. I refuse to let it show.

“I can handle myself. Or have you forgotten?” I say, grinning with smug satisfaction at his eye-roll—because I know he remembers exactly what I can do.

Turning toward the house, I mutter a goodbye. “I’ll see you later.”

They let me go.

But I can feel their eyes on me the entire way.

And I already know—this isn’t the last I’ll hear about it.