The Ritual: A Dark College Romance

I WALK INTO the empty office, looking out through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind a set of couches. The city lights illuminate the night. It’s one in the morning and my first time here.

Making my way down the hallway, I knock on the last door.

“Come in,” a man calls out.

Entering, I close it behind me. A man sits behind a desk in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. A single lamp glows from the corner of his desk, and I wonder if this is so people won’t know he’s in his office at this time of night. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Have a seat, Ryat.” He gestures to the chair across from him.

Doing as I’m told, I cross my arms over my chest. My senior Lord ceremony was three weeks ago. Classes at Barrington University start in two. For three long years, I’ve proven myself to the Lords. And now I’m one of them. But this morning, I got a call to be seen by a fellow Lord. It’s not uncommon but definitely had me curious as to what the fuck he wants.

He pulls a picture out of the pocket of his Armani suit jacket and slides it across the black surface. “Here is your first assignment.”

Picking it up, I look it over but quickly lift my eyes to him once again. “What about her?” I ask confused.

“She is to be yours.”

My gift—a chosen one.

Freshman year, we all took an oath, knowing that we all might not make it. During our senior year, we are rewarded for our servitude with sex. We’re allowed to take more than one chosen one. We can share her with the other Lords if we’d like. It happens a lot. I don’t know how many damn orgies I’ve watched over the past three years. There are no rules for us once we take on a chosen. Only for the women. If they accept—they have to willingly take the oath to belong to us—then they are ours. If a friend wants her for a night, we have the power to say yes or no. But if they are caught stepping out, they are punished. Humiliation is key.

I snort at his answer and throw the picture down. “No, seriously.”

His light brown eyes just stare at me, jaw set in a hard line. The man looks too young to be in the position that he has. Not many wrinkles and in good shape, a full head of dark hair that he keeps slicked back. But that’s a Lord for you. We put all the hard work in during our first three years of college. Once we graduate from Barrington, we rule.

I look away, running my hand through my hair, and choose my words differently. “She doesn’t belong to me.”

“She does … for now.” The man nods once.

She’s a junior this year at Barrington. I know her but have never spoken to her. No reason to. Like I said, she doesn’t belong to me. Releasing a sigh at his silence, I pick it back up. She stands in the middle of a parking lot next to her white Audi R8. Staring down at her cell, she’s oblivious that someone is watching her, taking pictures of her. She wears a pair of low-cut jeans and a white T-shirt. Her dark hair is down, the wind blowing it in her face.

“This has to be wrong,” I urge, shaking my head. “She is …”

“Are you denying a direct order?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

I grind my teeth. “No. It’s just …”

“Good.” He stands, ripping the picture from my hands. “Do what must be done and make it happen.”

Nodding my head, I stand as well. “Yes, sir.” Then I turn and exit his office, knowing that I’ll do whatever must be done.

Blakely Anderson will be mine!

BLAKELY

I’M PRACTICALLY RUNNING down the hallway trying to find my first class. Books in one hand, my schedule in the other. My bag has fallen off my shoulder and sits in the crook of my arm. Coming to where I think I’m supposed to be, I stop at the door, and my shoulders fall.

Room 125

I’m supposed to go to room 152. “Ugh.” I throw my head back. “Son of a bitch.”

This is my junior year at Barrington University, so you would think I’d know the college by now, but I don’t. This place is the size of a large city, spanning over three thousand acres. Over twenty buildings hold the classes, plus apartments and houses because they don’t have dorms here. That’s not acceptable for the rich.

I spin around to head in a different direction but hit a brick wall. The impact throws me back onto my ass. The books go flying along with my paper and bag.

“Watch where you’re fucking going!”

I look up from the floor to see a man standing in front of me. Emerald eyes so dark they’re almost frighteningly glare down at me. His dark brown hair is trimmed shorter on the sides, and the longer pieces on top are unkempt, giving it that messy, “I just rolled out of bed” look. He’s got a straight nose, and there’s a tic in his chiseled, smooth jaw. He’s dressed in dark denim jeans that hug his thighs, a black T-shirt shows off his broad shoulders and muscular arms, and tennis shoes. Ryat Archer stands there looking every bit pissed off as he does every second of every day.

“Sorry,” I mutter, pushing my glasses back on my nose. I was running too late this morning to take the time to screw with my contacts. They hate me.

Reaching out my hand, I wait for him to grab it and help me up.

He uncrosses his arms and shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, letting me know I’m on my own. His eyes drop to my chest, and he tilts his head to the side as they continue down over my stomach and bare legs. Slowly, he takes in my T-shirt and jean shorts. My breathing picks up, and fear creeps along my spine like a spider crawling on my skin. He looks at me like I’m a problem he needs to take care of. Something in his way to conquering the world.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise while my nipples harden when his gaze lands between my legs. Everything in me tells me to run—any other woman would—but I stay sprawled out on the floor like an idiot. The air gets thicker, making it hard to breathe, which just makes my tits bounce when I manage to suck in a deep breath.

He takes a step forward, the tip of his shoe knocking into the bottom of mine. “There are animals that roam these halls. If you’re not careful, one will catch you.” Those threatening eyes reach mine once again, and he smiles down at me. It’s not any friendlier than his glare. Instead, I get this feeling he wants to rip my throat open with his perfectly white teeth—a million-dollar smile comes to mind.

I swallow nervously, my mouth all of a sudden dry. “I …”

“Blakely? God, Blakely?” I hear a familiar voice. “Why are you on the floor?” Matt comes up behind me. Bending down, he places his arms underneath mine and lifts me to my feet. “What happened?”

I don’t answer. Matt is picking up my books, bag, and schedule while I just stand here staring at Ryat like a deer in headlights. His eyes haven’t left mine since he delivered the threat. I fully understood it. This is what you expect from anyone attending Barrington.

Cruel.

Evil.

God complex.

This is what happens when children grow up getting anything and everything they want. And I’m not talking about a teddy bear from the store. No, I’m talking about that one-of-a-kind two-million-dollar car before they even have a license.

“Everything okay here?” Matt asks.

I look down to see he’s left my books stacked on the floor by our feet. My eyes go to Matt, and he’s got all his attention on Ryat. They’re not friends. Not anymore, anyway. They were once, but something happened last year, and let’s just say they hate each other now.

“Blakely?” Matt snaps, making me jump.

Instead of answering him, my eyes shoot to Ryat once again.

Ryat arches a dark brow at me, his green eyes still boring into mine. They’re less threatening now and more playful. This is a game to him. Is everything okay here? “Yeah,” I answer Matt.

I don’t know Ryat very well, but I’m aware of his reputation. You don’t want to be on his shit list.

Ryat blinks, breaking contact, and looks over at Matt. Wiping the smile off his face, Ryat steps into him. I hold my breath as Matt cowers. “Keep your bitch on a leash.” He then looks over at me, his eyes quickly running over my body once again, making my breath quicken. “Otherwise, one may assume she’s a stray.” He puts his attention back on Matt. “And well, let’s just say you of all people should know that someone may choose to take her from you.”

With that, he reaches up and shoves Matt into the wall, then walks past us to carry on with his day.

“What the fuck?” Matt hisses, pushing off the wall and watching Ryat walk away without even bothering to give us a second glance. “Blakely?” He places his hands on my shoulders. “Did he push you down?” His hands run down over my arms.

“No … not exactly.” I continue to watch Ryat. The hallway isn’t crowded by any means, but even if it was, you’d still be able to spot him. He’s about six-three and two hundred and fifty pounds of muscle. He walks with an ease—as if he has all day to get where he’s going.

“Did he touch you?” Matt growls.

Ryat pulls his cell out of his pocket and starts texting before he takes a right down another hall. Disappearing out of sight.

“Blakely?”

“What?” I snap, turning to look at Matt now that Ryat’s completely gone.

“What the fuck happened?” he demands. “Were you talking to Ryat?” His eyes narrow on me in suspicion.

Of course. Now Matt is mad at me. Another man threatens his relationship with me, and it’s my fault. Always is.

“Nothing.” I push him off. “What happened between you two?” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. They live in the same house—house of Lords. They’re both members of the L.O.R.D.—Leader, Order, Ruler, and Deity—a secret society made up centuries ago by men to feed their misogynistic and egotistical attitudes. I only know what very little Matt has told me over the past three years, which is practically nothing. Their oath keeps them from talking about it.

“How the hell should I know?” He shrugs.

I eye him skeptically. “You’re saying you have no clue why he hates you?” I find that hard to believe.

“Ryat is an asshole,” he adds as if I didn’t already know that.

Yes, but he completely avoided my question. “Whatever. I’m late to class.”

I leave him standing there to go on with my day and manage to find the right room. Making my way up the stairs to the top row of the auditorium classroom, I sit down on the end next to my best friend since kindergarten and rub my elbow. It hurts after I fell on it.

“Where were you?” she asks.

I nod. “Got caught up.”

She rolls her eyes. “Let me guess, Matt?”

“Something like that.”

“Hey, look what I found.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a piece of paper. Unfolding it, she sets it down on my desk.

“What is it?”

“Our first official college party of junior year,” she squeals.

I pick it up and read over it. It’s a black piece of paper with The Ritual written across the top in white letters. From what I know, the Lords do this every year. I’ve heard girls talking about it here and there, but whenever I ask Matt about it, he shuts me down and says they’ve been sworn to secrecy.

“It wouldn’t be a secret society, Blakely, if we told everyone what goes on, on the inside,” he once said to me, and I rolled my eyes.

I begin to read over it.

I vow.

You vow.

We vow.

The ritual is what one must do in order to become a chosen.

A chosen must be willing to surrender in all that they do.

I look over at her and raise a brow. “Is this shit for real?” Does she even know what this means? I’ve never actually seen a flyer about it before with rules listed. I just thought it was a stupid rumor that some girls started to feel wanted. Some will do anything to get some dick.

She nods. “I hope so.”

Rolling my eyes, I look back at it.

A chosen is protected under the ritual. Any and all must treat them as such.

“No.” I wad it up and throw it back at her. “That’s stupid. Or fucked up. Either way, you know I can’t go.” Matt would kill me if I showed up at the house of Lords.

“Matt can’t tell you what you can and can’t do, Blakely,” she argues.

I ignore that and focus my attention on the professor down at the front of the room. I start thinking about what Ryat said in the hallway. He called me a stray. Said that someone may choose to take me away. Which is stupid because he knows I’m with Matt.

“Wait?” I say a little too loud and sink down into my seat when the kid to the left shushes me. “Give me that back,” I whisper.

Running my hand over it, I try to flatten out the wrinkles the best I can on my desk. “Who chooses?” I ask her, my eyes scanning over it.

“I’m not sure.” She shrugs, leaning over and looking at it too.

The girl in front of us turns around and glares.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

Her eyes drop to the paper, and then she spins around, throwing her blond hair over her shoulder. I pull out my cell and send Matt a quick text. I know he doesn’t have a class this hour. He was going to hang out at the library for a little bit this morning.

Me: What does it mean for a Lord to choose someone?

_______________

WE EXIT CLASS , and I pull out my cell once again to see if Matt has responded. He read it immediately but has yet to reply. I sigh, placing it in my back pocket.

Sarah starts hanging on my arm. “Come on. Let’s go,” she whines. “We’re running out of time to actually have fun. It’s junior year. We spent all summer back home. We swore this year would be different. That we would actually go and do things. It’s just one party. What could it hurt? Not like we already have plans.”

“I …”

“Are you guys talking about the ritual?” the girl who sat in front of me asks.

“Yes,” Sarah answers.

“Well, I wouldn’t go if I were you.” She clutches her books to her chest. “It’s evil. Vile. Demented. Just some guys on a high horse who like to fuck around with women.”

“How so?” I ask, interested. Something about how Ryat worded it to Matt has my curiosity piqued. You can’t take something that doesn’t belong to you.

“Tyson Crawford.” She states the name like we should know who that is.

We don’t. “Who is that?”

“He was a senior at Barrington a few years ago. He chose Whitney Minson as his. Well, once she performed the vow ceremony …” She trails off, her eyes going from side to side to see if anyone is listening to her. When satisfied no one is paying attention, she steps in closer to us. “He tied her facedown on his bed, naked, gagged, and blindfolded. Left her there all day while he went to his classes. He had cameras all over his room with a live feed of it on his phone. Then once he went home, he fucked her, which he also recorded and sent to her boyfriend—the boyfriend she was cheating on after she took the vow to be Tyson’s.”

“Damn. Savage. I like it.” Sarah laughs.

The girl’s eyes narrow on her. “It was disgusting,” she spits out.

“Then what?” I ask. I feel like there’s more to that story there.

“Well, she belonged to him. She was his chosen one,” she says, all but rolling her eyes.

“Meaning?” I urge, still not understanding this chosen shit. “Someone can’t just decide to have you,” I state the obvious. “Women aren’t fucking property.”

Dropping her voice to a whisper, she says, “The Lords can do whatever the fuck they want. Their oath promises them that.”

“How do you know about all of this? Were you a chosen?” I wonder.

“Fuck no.” She scoffs as if offended that I could even think that. Then she turns around and practically runs off like it’s a sin to be seen with us.

“Oh, we’re going,” Sarah says matter-of-factly.

“Ritual? Vow ceremony? Sounds like some fucked-up shit.” I shake my head.

“Matt’s a member. How bad can it be?” She laughs. “He’s a pussy.”

I don’t argue with that. When I look up, Ryat walks by with two other guys who I know as Gunner and Prickett. Fellow Lord members. A Lord member is always easy to spot because they wear a ring—a crest. No one who isn’t a Lord knows what it actually means, though. Right now, the three are oblivious to everyone around them, deep in their own conversation. I imagine this is what they’re always like. Thinking they’re untouchable.

My hands fist, wrinkling the paper once again. The words he said to Matt … what the girl just said to us. I’ve known they took an oath—a stupid one at that, but I don’t know what all this chosen shit is about. I guess I’ve just never paid that much attention to what goes on behind the doors at the house of Lords. The members are required to all live together, and it’s not near campus.

Making up my mind, I take off down the hall. I pass by, then turn around and stop in front of them, making all three come to a halt.

“Well, hello sexy.” Gunner, the one on the right, smiles at me, his baby-blue eyes dropping to my bare legs.

“Bitch, remember?” I ask Ryat, who stands in the middle, crossing my arms over my chest. He had referred to me as Matt’s bitch, but he knows my fucking name.

The corners of his lips turn up, giving me a smirk, looking more playful than before. “I see the pathetic boy toy still hasn’t put that leash on you.” His stunning green eyes drop to my neck, and he shakes his head while making a tsking sound. “Can’t say I didn’t warn him.”

Heat rushes up my body, and my face goes red with embarrassment. Why did that feel like another threat? And why does my heart begin to race at the thought of being his prey?

“Free game?” Prickett, the one on the far left, asks.

My eyes snap to his. “Excuse me?” I bark. Pretty sure it’s the first time I’ve ever heard him speak. I don’t talk or hang out with any fellow Lords. Matt is the only one I know on a personal level. He’s always kept me as far away from them as possible, and I never minded that.

“They always are,” Ryat answers him.

“Well, who do we have here?” Sarah asks, sliding up next to me.

“Sarah.” Gunner lifts his hand to rub his chin while his eyes devour her. “Nice to see you again.”

“Seems so.” Her eyes drop to his crotch, and I roll mine.

“What did you mean by someone else may choose me?” I ask Ryat, sticking my hip out.

All three men stiffen, and their eyes narrow on me. He steps forward, his body entering my space. I suck in a shaky breath when he reaches out, taking a strand of hair and tucking it behind my ear. His fingers gently brush my skin, and I shiver at the contact. He bends down, his green eyes devouring mine when he whispers, “Why don’t you ask Matt why he’s not allowed to choose you.”

I pull away, taking a step back, and frown. “He’s my boyfriend.” What does he mean Matt wouldn’t be able to choose me? And what the hell is he choosing me for?

“Keep saying that like it means something,” Ryat remarks, making the others laugh.

I yank Sarah away from them, not really sure what I planned to accomplish by that. But I’ll definitely be talking to Matt about this.

As we’re walking down the hallway, she looks over her shoulder to glance back. “Ryat is staring at your ass like he wants to eat it.” She chuckles.

“Yeah … well, that won’t be happening.”