The Ritual: A Dark College Romance

I STARE DOWN at her, watching those pretty blue eyes look up at me from her ass in complete and utter shock. She looks just as gorgeous as I remember. Her hair is darker, but other than that, she looks like the blue-eyed, Barbie doll–face woman I became obsessed with. Blood now covers her white crop top, neck, and parts of her face. I like the way it looks on her—really brings out her eyes and red painted lips.

She’s sitting on the ground, and her big tits bounce while she pants, trying to regain her breathing after the motherfucker was choking her to death.

If anyone kills her, it’ll be me. I get that privilege. She’s my wife. I decide when I’m done with her, and my cock stuffed inside my jeans reminds me I’m not quite there just yet.

I lift the knife in my hand and run the blade across my jeans, wiping his blood off both sides on my thigh.

She scrambles backward a little more, getting to her feet. She turns to run, but Prickett and Gunner both stand at the end of the alleyway, blocking her exit. She looks back at me, and then darts inside the bar through the back door.

“Gunner, take care of the security cameras,” I tell him, and he nods. “Prickett, you’re with me.”

I open the back door and step inside, knowing there’s nowhere for her to run in here. We already chained the front doors shut from the outside. The sound of them rattling makes me smile. At least she understands the severity of her actions.

She looks at us over her shoulder, her hair slapping her in the face. And she takes off to run, but Prickett grabs her, tossing her on top of a table where she rolls off the side to the floor, taking a couple of chairs with her.

Lying facedown, she lets out a groan as she sluggishly tries to get up on her hands and knees. But Prickett yanks her up, bending her over the side of the table and pulling her arms behind her back with one hand. He reaches into his back pocket with the other to retrieve his handcuffs. She begins to regain some strength and starts screaming while she fights him, but he gets them secure and cinches them tight to make her cry out.

I make my way over to the table and pick up one of the chairs that fell over. Spinning it to where it’s backward, I straddle it, placing myself right in front of where her head hangs off the edge. Prickett continues to stand behind her, his forearm in her back, pushing her down onto the wooden surface.

Lifting the knife, I gently press it to her forehead, and her body goes stiff. I slowly run it down the side of her face, pushing her hair out of the way so I can look her in the eyes. They glare at me.

“Hello, Blake,” I say lovingly.

“Just fucking kill me,” she snaps through gritted teeth.

I tilt my head to the side, running the knife down underneath the tip of her chin, and press on the skin, forcing her to tilt her head up more in order to keep from getting cut. “Why would I do that? I love you.”

She snorts at the lie, the action making the pieces of loose hair swirl around her face.

Removing the knife from under her chin, she drops it a little bit, and I dig into my pocket to retrieve her wedding ring. “I thought you’d want this back.” I hold it up in front of her face.

“The only thing I want is a divorce.” She bares her pretty, white teeth. The table rattles when she starts fighting Prickett’s hold.

I forgot how much I enjoyed this side of Blakely. Things were getting a little too comfortable between us before she left. You know, catching those feelings and all because she looked stunning in a dress. Good thing we’re back on track now. “Till death do us part, Blake. And I’m not ready to kill you yet.”

She starts fighting him harder, but he keeps her pinned down. He removes his forearm from her back and instead lays across her, his hands gripping her hair and yanking her head up. The action forces a scream out of her, and I take the opportunity to grab the two pills out of my pocket and shove them into her mouth before slapping my hand over it, sealing them inside.

Her body thrashes, and I stand from the chair, kicking it out of my way. Crouching before her, I place my other hand around her slender neck, holding it in place but not restricting her air.

My face is inches from hers, and I watch tears start to fill her eyes when she tries to shake her head. “It doesn’t matter if you swallow or if they dissolve, Blake. The result is the same.”

She blinks, the action forcing the tears to spill down her cheeks to my hand, smearing the blood of the dead guy I killed in the alleyway. Her nostrils flare before she swallows them with my hand around her neck. “That’s my good girl,” I praise, and she whimpers.

Removing both of my hands, I nod to Prickett. He lets go of her hair as well and gets up off her, walking away to go help Gunner since we’ll be leaving soon.

Standing to my full height, I roll her onto her back, pinning her cuffed arms underneath her. I brush her hair from her tear-streaked and bloody face. She blinks, her eyes growing heavy already. “I hate you,” she whispers.

“I know,” I tell her, running my fingers down over her neck, then her chest to her exposed belly. She’s lost some weight. It makes me wonder just how much she’s gone without to keep this very situation from happening. “But I also don’t care.”

Whimpering, she looks away from me to stare up at the ceiling, slowly blinking as fresh tears run down the side of her face. “How?” she sniffs before licking her lips.

I smile down at her, my knuckles brushing through her tears. “I told you … you can’t run from me.” Leaning down, I kiss her cheek, tasting them. Fuck, I’ve missed her so much. I haven’t slept much since she left, thinking about what I’d do to her once I saw her again. Now that I have her, I want to tie her down to my bed and remind her just how much she loves being owned. “I’ll always find you.”

When she closes her heavy eyes this time, they don’t open. Her body relaxes, and her breathing evens out. She’s got marks on her neck from the bastard trying to kill her. What little clothes she wears are wet with his blood splatter. I’m going to rip them off and burn them.

I place my arms underneath her, picking her limp body up off the table just as Prickett and Gunner come out from the back. “Let’s go,” I order.

BLAKELY

I SIT UP, gasping for breath. My hand goes to my chest, realizing I’m no longer in my uniform, but now an oversized T-shirt. My eyes dart around aimlessly, seeing I’m in a bed. One that I know all too well. The scent of his cologne lingering in the room is like a cloud of smoke choking me.

He brought me back! The thought is crippling. I failed. Even though I did everything right, I still managed to get caught.

“Good morning, Mrs. Archer.”

My head snaps to the left, and I see Ryat standing in the doorway to his adjoining bathroom inside his room at house of Lords. I shove the covers off and scramble out of the bed. My shaky legs have me falling into his dresser, making it rattle. “Stay away from me,” I warn, my voice scratchy from the mystery man choking me and whatever Ryat forced me to swallow. My mind is still a little hazy, but I understand I’m in danger.

He chuckles, placing his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, looking every bit of cool and collected as he leans against the doorframe. “That’ll be hard since we’re married, Blake.”

“I told you I want a divorce,” I growl.

He pushes off the doorframe, and I run for the bedroom door, but he’s faster, my body still weak, giving him the advantage to step in front of me. His hand comes up, and I bow my head, whimpering, hands shaking.

“Shh,” he says, gently touching my face, forcing me to look up at him. “I’m not going to hurt you, Blake.”

“Yes, you will.” I suck in a ragged breath. He promised me in the beginning that he would. Turns out, he was right, and I liked it.

“Is that what you want?” he asks, his eyes searching mine and I swallow nervously. I forgot how intense they can be. “You want me to punish you?”

“No,” I whisper, but my heart races at the thought. My body knows what he’s capable of, and it’s missed him so fucking much.

“Are you sure?” His hand leaves my cheek, traveling down the center of my chest over the shirt. “My cock has missed you, little one.” He leans in, tenderly kissing my forehead, and I hold in a breath. “Has my cunt missed me?”

“No,” I lie, my thighs clenching at the thought of him between my legs. Even when I was terrified he’d find me, I still dreamed about him. I’d see his face, hear his voice, and feel his body on top of mine. I imagined him finding me, kidnapping me, and fucking me—just like we did with my forced-sex fantasy—but I’ll never tell him that.

He frowns. “That’s a shame.” His fingertips circle my nipple, making it harden at his touch through the shirt, and I realize he’s removed my bra. Once satisfied with my body’s response, he brings his hand up into my hair and slowly pulls my head back. “But just so you know …” He leans in with his lips to my ear, and whispers, “You will get on your knees and open your mouth. You will spread those soft and sexy legs for me. And I will take that ass.” He pulls away, and his green eyes darken while drilling into mine, making my pulse accelerate. “I will fuck my wife. Whenever and however I want.”

I swallow the lump in my throat at his threat while my pussy pulses. I’m so fucked!

He pulls away. “And as much as I want to remind you of that right now, we’re late. We have a meeting.” Grabbing my hand, he yanks me out of the room and down the hall. We enter an elevator, and he presses B for basement. I yank my hand from his once the doors shut. I’m surprised he stays silent. I figured he’d corner me in here, but maybe he’s said all he wants to say.

“Where is my uniform I was wearing?” I ask him.

“Burned it,” he answers, not even bothering to look at me.

Motherfucker …

The door slides open, and we enter a hallway and move toward a closed door. Opening it up for me, he steps to the side to allow me to enter. Stepping in, I come to a halt. My legs are unable to take me any farther. My father sits in a chair with a man I don’t know next to him.

“Blakely,” he growls my name and shoots to his feet.

I spin around to leave, but Ryat shoves me farther into the room, closing the door behind him and caging me in.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” my father snaps, rounding the long table.

“Me?” I gasp, pointing a finger at my chest. “You sold me.”

He snorts. “I didn’t take a penny for you.”

I frown. “But Matt …”

“Matt was pissed because Ryat announced your marriage. He would have said anything to make you leave,” the man who remains sitting adds. He seems much calmer than my father, which makes me wonder who he is and why he’s here.

No! Matt wasn’t just convincing, things he said made sense. Like pieces of a puzzle that clicked together. But just to make sure, I spin around to face Ryat. “So you didn’t offer money for me?”

He leans up against the closed door as if to block it in case I try to bolt. Crossing his arms over his chest, he answers, “No. I did.”

My mouth falls open. I fucking knew it! “I’m not a whore, Ryat.”

He says nothing, but my father isn’t done. “I always knew Matt was a sorry piece of shit. That’s why I forced Ryat to pick you as his chosen.”

I blink. He did not just say what I thought he did. “You what …?” I look back at Ryat, and once again, he says nothing. Just stares at me like he did when I was on my ass in the hall after I ran into him. Threatening and indifferent at the same time. That playful and carefree Ryat from our wedding night long gone. Back to all business. I’m just a fucking order to him.

“But he chose to marry you,” I hear my father add.

“What?” I take a step back, so I can see them both at the same time. The back of my neck is sore, probably from when Prickett was pinning me down on the table. I’m tired of looking back and forth between my father and my husband. “You make it sound like I should be grateful,” I snap at my father. What does he expect me to do? Get on my hands and knees and thank Ryat for marrying me so I didn’t have to spend a life with Matt? Right now, I’m trying to see how Ryat is any better? Why did it have to be one or the other?

“You should,” he demands, stepping into me.

A hand grips my upper arm, and I’m yanked to the side, and I hit a hard body before Ryat places his arm around my shoulders.

My father lets out a long breath. “I’m not going to put my hands on her like my wife did.”

I blink, trying to keep up with the change of topics. “How do you know that?” Ryat had to have informed him of what happened. He’s the only other person who knows.

My father waves a hand, dismissing me. “Now that you’re back, we have shit to take care of,” he states.

“Like what?” I ask, my pulse racing. What could possibly need to be done?

“You must be initiated.”

That word has my stomach knotting. “What do you mean?” I ask slowly, pulling away from Ryat. Thankfully, he lets go of me.

“I mean, Ryat is going to be powerful—”

“Yeah, yeah, a renowned judge in New York,” I interrupt him. “But what does that have to do with me?”

The other man stands from his seat. “Who told you that?” he demands, his eyes glaring at Ryat’s over my shoulder.

“Matt,” I answer.

Silence blankets the room, making my breathing pick up. Was I not supposed to know that? If so, what will they do now that they know I do. “I haven’t told anyone,” I add quickly. “Ryat didn’t even know that I knew.”

“Is this true?” the man demands of Ryat.

“Yes,” he grinds out.

Shit! He’s mad at me even more now? Was I supposed to tell him what I knew? “Why … why is that a secret?” I come out and ask.

The man takes his seat, glaring at me now. “Anyway, the Ladies have different tiers, just as the Lords,” he goes on, totally ignoring my question. “You will be as high as you can get. A Lady always matches her Lord.”

I reach up and rub my temples, closing my eyes for a brief second. “I’m fucking tired, and a little slow from being drugged.” My eyes spring open. “So, can someone explain to me what is going on instead of talking in riddles?” I snap. What the fuck is a Lady? And what does it have to do with Ryat being a Lord?

“You will receive a text giving you a name, a location, and a time,” my father starts. “This will be the orders of your initiation.”

I snort. “I’m not joining this secret society!” They’ve lost their fucking minds. “I want nothing to do with the Lords.”

The other man jumps to his feet once more. “You will do what we say—”

“Give us the room,” Ryat interrupts the man.

The guy storms out, but my dad takes his time. Coming up next to us, he places his hand on Ryat’s shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Then he walks out.

“What is going on, Ryat?” I demand the moment the door closes behind them. “And don’t lie to me.”

He pulls out one of the black leather chairs at the table and gestures for me to sit. Rolling my eyes, I plop down into it. Ryat pulls out the one beside me and spins it so we’re face-to-face. Leaning forward, he places his elbow on his knees. “We’re already married, Blake,” he reminds me. “If you don’t get initiated in, then you are removed as Lady.”

My eyes widen. “We can get a divorce?” Maybe there’s hope after all.

“No!” he snaps, making me jump. Dropping his head, he runs his hands through his hair. A clear sign he’s getting pissy with me.

Taking a second to get a good look at him, I see how tired his green eyes look. I wonder if he’s lost sleep like me. I wonder if he thought of me like I did him. “I don’t understand.” I soften my voice. “You just said—”

“You either kill or get killed,” he growls, interrupting me.

I laugh at that but stop when he just glares at me. “This has to be a joke, right?”

“There is no way around it!” he snaps, jumping to his feet.

He can’t be serious. I must still be knocked out. Maybe I’m having a nightmare. Or possibly hallucinating. “I can’t …”

“Yes, you can.” He nods. “I knew what you would have to do going into this.”

“How could you?” I whisper, feeling my throat tighten. I was an assignment that he tried to buy. And now I’m a Lady who has to kill someone?

“We all make sacrifices in order to get what we want,” he states.

I stand on shaky legs, my hands fisting at my sides. Stepping into him, he looks down at me, his green eyes the coldest I’ve ever seen them. It makes me realize just how good of an actor he was and how stupid I am. “What you don’t seem to understand is that I no longer want to be your wife, Ryat! And I don’t want to join your stupid secret society. So, no, I don’t want to sacrifice anything for you because I don’t want to be with you.” My heart is hammering in my chest while the blood rushes in my ears at the lie. I can’t let him see how much I missed him. I felt something for him the night of the ceremony, but then Matt fucked it all up with what he told me. I hate him too. Maybe Sarah was right—I was better off being in the dark.

Cupping my face, he sighs heavily. “None of that matters, Blake.”