Chapter 38

Seraphina

I woke the next day to a heavy, nagging feeling that I couldn’t shake. Something about the previous day, the way everything had unfolded, was starting to gnaw at me. I wasn’t sure if it was the lingering tension or just the weight of the weekend’s events finally catching up, but either way, I wasn’t looking forward to today.

I threw on my jeans and a hoodie, still mentally replaying the weekend’s chaos. It felt as if I was trying to outrun something, something I didn’t quite understand, but something that was chasing me. My mind kept wandering back to the faces of the missing girls and the way the men had acted, so protective, but also so distant.

I grabbed my bag and headed out the door, not wanting to be late for class.

The air was crisp, and I was already regretting not grabbing a jacket as I walked across campus, trying to shake the uneasy feeling that had taken hold of me. The moment I stepped out the door, I saw him.

Tyrone.

He was leaning casually against the side of the building, his eyes immediately locking onto mine as if he had been waiting for me. I wasn’t surprised—he always seemed to be in my vicinity, like he had a sixth sense for my whereabouts. But today, there was something different in his gaze. There was a quiet intensity in the way he watched me, as if he was marking me for the day.

“Morning,” he greeted me, his voice smooth.

“Morning,” I replied, trying to brush past him, but he stepped into my path.

“Got a minute?” he asked, his lips curling into that knowing smile that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

I tried to ignore the way my heart skipped a beat. It was hard to maintain my composure when he was this close, when his presence was so overwhelming.

“I’m already late for class,” I said, my voice steady but laced with the tiniest hint of unease.

“You’ll be fine,” Tyrone said, his tone unbothered. “Your class will still be there. But I’ve got a little surprise for you.” He straightened up, his hand brushing against mine as he moved closer. The subtle contact sent a spark through me, one I was trying to ignore.

Before I could respond, he took my bag from my shoulder, slinging it over his own without asking, and started walking toward the direction of my class, not waiting for me to follow.

I frowned, feeling my body tense up. He was always like this—demanding. It was infuriating, but at the same time, it was hard not to let him get under my skin. His presence was magnetic, a force I couldn’t fully escape from, no matter how hard I tried.

Tyrone kept pace beside me, his eyes scanning the surrounding area as if he was constantly assessing every detail. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, making my skin prickle in a way I didn’t know how to explain.

We walked in silence for a few moments, the only sound being the rhythm of our footsteps against the pavement. But eventually, I couldn’t stand the tension anymore.

“Why are you following me?” I finally asked, glancing up at him, a hint of frustration in my voice.

“You really have to ask?” His voice dropped, just a bit, as he shot me a sideways glance. “I’m keeping you safe, remember?”

I swallowed, not knowing how to respond. I wasn’t sure what was more suffocating—the fact that he was always there, or the fact that I had no idea whether I could trust him or not.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

“Not a babysitter, sweetheart,” he said, his tone shifting to something more dangerous, more predatory. “You need someone who understands the game. Someone who can protect you when everything goes to hell. And trust me, it's about to.”

I wanted to argue, but the words caught in my throat. There was a part of me that knew he was right—things were escalating, and I could feel the storm building, even if I didn’t fully understand it yet.

When we reached the classroom, I thought for a second that I was free. But Tyrone followed me inside, keeping a few steps behind me, hovering like a shadow. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t here just for class, though. He was here for me—and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

As I sat down, Tyrone took the seat next to mine, his leg brushing against mine in a deliberate, almost too casual move. The contact was enough to make my heart race, though I tried to ignore it.

Class was a blur. Tyrone didn’t stop watching me. Every time I glanced in his direction, his eyes were locked onto mine, his expression unreadable. His presence was like a weight pressing down on me, and it was all I could do to concentrate on anything other than him.

After class ended, I packed my things slowly, hoping for a moment of peace, but Tyrone was already standing by the door, waiting for me.

“Not so fast,” he said, a grin on his lips as I walked toward him.

“I have another class,” I muttered, half-tempted to just walk away. But he didn’t give me the chance.

Before I knew it, he had grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward him with surprising force. “You’re coming with me,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

“Let go of me, Tyrone,” I snapped, trying to pull away, but he wasn’t letting go.

“No,” he said simply, I could have fought harder. I could have yanked my wrist free, drawn attention, made a scene. But I didn’t.

Not because I was afraid.

Because I was curious.

Tyrone was a force—one that didn’t ask, didn’t beg, didn’t persuade. He decided. And right now, his decision was that I wasn’t going anywhere but with him.

The grip on my wrist wasn’t painful, but it was firm. Steady. A silent promise that resistance wouldn’t get me far. His dark eyes burned with something unreadable as he guided me through the halls and out of the building.

“I do get to make my own choices,” I muttered as we stepped outside.

Tyrone let out a short, humorless chuckle. “You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

We walked in silence across campus, past students laughing, rushing to classes, living their normal lives. I should have been part of that. I should have been hurrying to my next lecture, pretending none of this was happening.

But instead, I was letting Tyrone drag me somewhere I probably shouldn’t go.

Sigma Phi’s house loomed ahead, its massive structure standing out even among the other fraternity mansions. It felt too big, too imposing, like a trap disguised as a luxury.

As soon as we stepped inside, the energy shifted. The air was heavier here, charged with something unspoken. The few brothers lingering around gave us a quick glance but wisely said nothing when they saw Tyrone’s expression.

He didn’t stop until we reached his room.

And then he locked the door behind us.

I crossed my arms. “So, what now? You keep me here until I magically decide to do whatever you want?”

Tyrone leaned against the door, watching me like a predator evaluating his prey. “Something like that.”

I huffed. “You do realize I’m leaving, right?”

He just smirked. “You keep saying things like that, Seri, but you don’t actually do them.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, hating how much that got under my skin.

He took a slow step forward. “You don’t even realize it yet, do you?” His voice dropped, dark and smooth, sliding over me like silk. “You like this. You like me being close. You like the way I take control you. The way we all do.”

A sharp inhale hitched in my throat, but I forced my expression to stay neutral. “You’re full of yourself.”

“Maybe.” Another step. “Or maybe I just know you better than you want to admit.”

His fingers brushed against my arm, and I felt it everywhere. That electric spark. That pull. It was dangerous, intoxicating.

“You think this is going to change my mind?” I asked, though my voice wasn’t as steady as I wanted it to be.

Tyrone grinned, slow and knowing. “I think you already know where you belong.”

And then he closed the last of the distance between us. Tyrone’s mouth crashed against mine, fierce and demanding, swallowing any protest before I could even form one. He kissed like he owned me—like he had owned me from the moment we met, and this was just him claiming what was already his.

My back hit the mattress before I even realized we were moving. His weight pressed down over me, solid, unyielding, his hands already pushing beneath my sweater, palms burning against my skin. I should have stopped him. I should have fought this. But my fingers curled into his shirt instead, pulling him closer.

Tyrone groaned, a sound full of dark satisfaction. “See?” he murmured against my lips. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but your body knows the truth.”

Heat coiled deep in my stomach, my breath catching as he kissed his way down my jaw, his lips trailing fire over my skin. His hands were everywhere, pulling pieces of clothing from my heated skin until i was bare beneath him but his hands didn’t stop. Spreading over my waist, gliding down my thighs, pushing my legs apart just enough to make me shudder.

He knew exactly how to unravel me. And I hated how easily I let him.

His teeth scraped my throat, a possessive nip that made my pulse stutter. “Stay, Seri.”

I barely heard him over the pounding of my heart. But then he shifted, rolling his hips against mine, making me feel every hard, undeniable glorious inch of him rubbing against me through his clothes, and my world narrowed to this—to the heat of him, to the way he owned every inch of space between us.

Tyrone dragged my legs up by my knees and wrapped them around his hips, his lips back up to my ear, his voice a deep, husky whisper. “I could spend all day and night showing you exactly why you belong here.”

A shiver ran through me, my nails digging into his shoulders. But I forced myself to remember—this wasn’t just about us. I couldn’t let it be. So even as my body betrayed me, even as I melted beneath him, and i felt him shift undoing and starting to push his pants down, I forced the words out between shaky breaths.

“I’m still leaving.”

Tyrone’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening against my hips. For a moment, I thought he was going to argue. But then he pulled back, resting back on his arms, just enough to look me in the eyes. And what I saw there sent my heart racing for an entirely different reason. Because Tyrone wasn’t just frustrated. He was determined.

“We’ll see, princess,” Tyrone growled, his voice dark and edged with something primal. He leaned down, his teeth scraping along my throat, nipping at the sensitive skin where my pulse pounded wildly beneath him. I tried to say something—anything—but all that came out was a strangled moan as he thrust into me with ruthless precision. When did he take his pants off?

My wrists were trapped in one of his hands, pinned above my head like I was nothing more than a possession to be taken, owned, and claimed. He pulled out until only the thick head of him remained before slamming back inside, each thrust knocking the air from my lungs. Again. And again. Every punishing drive of his hips had me arching, desperate, completely at his mercy.

His free hand slid down, gripping the back of my thigh and pushing my knee up to my shoulder, angling me to take him deeper. Too deep. I gasped as the pressure built to a breaking point, but he didn’t stop—he ground his hips against my clit between every thrust, his movements precise, devastating.

“We could take turns worshipping you,” Tyrone murmured, his voice nothing but raw gravel against my ear. “Every. Fucking. Day.” Each word punctuated by a thrust, harder than the last, forcing me to feel every inch of him. “Maybe all of us can fuck you at the same time. Would you like that, princess?”

I tried to answer, but I couldn’t form words, couldn’t think past the fire spreading through my veins. My body answered for me—hips rolling up to meet him, back arching, my breath coming in ragged, desperate pants.

Without warning, he ripped himself from me, flipping me onto my stomach like I was weightless. A startled cry left my lips, but he was already dragging my arms behind my back, trapping them in one of his hands as he drove into me from behind. The force of it sent me face-first into the mattress, smothering my scream.

His body covered mine, heavy, inescapable, a force pressing me deep into the bed. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t fight. But deep in my core, I knew I was safe—even in the raw brutality of it, I knew he would never truly hurt me. The contradiction made my blood run hotter, the pleasure unbearable.

“You’re even fucking tighter like this,” Tyrone grunted, his fingers digging into my hip. A sharp crack split the air, followed by a sting as his palm connected with my ass. Once. Twice. Three times. I cried out, the mix of pain and pleasure sending me spiraling closer to the edge.

“Look at you,” he groaned. “So fucking beautiful with my handprint on your ass. Are you going to come for me? You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.”

I tried to turn my head, tried to breathe, but his grip didn’t allow for it. His weight kept me pinned, the lack of oxygen making every nerve hypersensitive. My pulse pounded, my body winding tighter, the pleasure sharpening into something unbearable. I was teetering, on the very edge of oblivion, unable to stop it.

“Tyrone,” I choked out into the mattress, but it wasn’t a plea. It was surrender.

His hand fisted my hair, pulling my head to the side just enough for me to gasp in a full breath, and in that moment, I shattered. My orgasm slammed into me so hard it stole what little air I had left, my body clenching around him, dragging him down with me.

“Fuck, princess,” he growled, his thrusts turning erratic as he ground impossibly deep, his body shuddering. “That’s it—fuck, just like that.”

A final thrust, a deep, guttural groan, and then warmth filled me as he buried himself to the hilt. His hold on my wrists loosened, his weight shifting as he let me breathe, but he didn’t move away. He stayed wrapped around me, still inside me, still claiming me even in the aftermath.

His arm slid under my body, pulling me back against his chest, his breath heavy and hot against my neck. He wasn’t letting me go. Not now. Not ever.

And maybe, just maybe, a part of me didn’t want him to.

As the heat between us simmered back down, I found myself curled up against him, my body still thrumming with the aftermath. But my mind? It was racing. I needed to stay focused. I needed to stick to my plan.

Tyrone’s fingers brushed down my spine, his voice lazy and satisfied. “Stay here. Just for this week.”

I sighed, pushing myself up, grabbing his discarded shirt off the floor and slipping it over my head. “No.”

His amusement faded. “Seri—”

I shook my head. “I know what you’re doing, Tyrone. You think you can make me stay just by…” I gestured vaguely at the bed, heat rising to my cheeks. “It’s not going to work.”

He sat up, his gaze pinning me in place. “You really think this is just about sex?”

I swallowed hard. “No.”

Because it wasn’t. It never was.

Tyrone exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair before watching me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. “Then you already know why I’m asking you to stay.”

I did. But I wasn’t going to. I had my own plan. One I couldn’t afford to let them interfere with. Even if it meant walking away. Gathering our clothes and pulling them back on, Tyrone took me to the rest of my classes for the day and then back to the sorority house; with another warning not to leave unless someone was there.