Page 17 of Snitches and Serpents

I suck in short, sharp breaths as the pressure around my chest becomes almost physically painful. Panic courses through my body like waves of molten fire.

My gaze lands on Tristan’s hand, and the hair tie he is still holding. I lunge for it.

Surprise flits across his face. But his reflexes are still too fast. He yanks his hand away before I can snatch the hair tie from him. And before I can make another attempt, he slips it around his wrist.

“You want this?” he taunts, holding up his wrist to show the hair tie that now circles it. “You’ll have to fight me for it.”

The thin elastic band sits there against his skin, right below where his tattoos end. I stare at it longingly. But I know that I would never be able to take it from him, so I just swallow and then force out a tight breath instead. The pressure on my chest remains, making it difficult to get the air out.

I raise my hands towards my hair instead, determined to fix the mess he made even without the hair tie.

“Do it,” Tristan’s voice suddenly cracks through the air like the strike of a whip.

It stuns me so much that I pause with my hands halfway to my hair. Blinking, I raise my eyes and meet his gaze.

His expression is dark. Full of threats.

“Fix your hair. Button your collar.” Challenge pulses from every word he speaks as he stares me down. “I fucking dare you.”

Hesitation courses through me.

Standing there frozen by the wall, my hands still hovering halfway to my hair, I just stare back at him while my heart beats erratically in my chest.

I can’t go to class looking like this. Anything less than perfect is unacceptable. It is the one rule that my parents have drilled into me since I was old enough to hold a spoon. And the thought of people seeing me in this awful and compromising state makes me want to vomit.

But at the same time…

Worry snakes through my chest as I stare at Tristan.

I fucking dare you, he said.

What is he going to do to me if I disobey?

As if he can read the internal battle in my eyes, he lets out a smug chuckle before a sharp smile settles on his lips. Placing two fingers underneath my chin, he gives it a brief push upwards. As if mockingly saying, chin up.

Then he rakes his gaze over my messy appearance one last time. Smirks. And walks away.

6

TRISTAN

She did fix her appearance. Her collar is once more buttoned all the way up, and she must have been able to get a hair tie from someone in her class because her hair is back in a perfect braid. The only thing she couldn’t fix was her pantyhose. So she apparently took them off instead.

I watch her perfectly sculpted legs, now completely bare, as she walks across the cafeteria and towards a table a short distance from where I’m sitting. It’s empty, since no one else from her sorority has arrived yet.

Each sorority and fraternity has its own table. Not officially, of course. But in general, people accept the unspoken rule and leave those tables unclaimed. I don’t bother disrupting that system either. Especially not since those of us who belong to the White Serpents also tend to claim the same table every day. And even though we’re not a fraternity, people still respect that, because they don’t want to mess with us either.

Sitting at my table with Amir and Paul and the others, I track Elle with my eyes, waiting for her to cast a nervous glance in my direction. She doesn’t. Instead, she simply sets down her tray of food on the pale wooden table and then sits down with her back to me.

Amusement ripples through me.

I have to admit, she’s braver than I expected her to be. I thought she was going to fold like a house of cards when I applied the tiniest bit of pressure, but she did the exact opposite. Not only did she fix her appearance despite my warning, she is also deliberately putting her back to me. As if to show me that she’s not afraid of me.

I’m impressed.

However, it still doesn’t change the fact that I’m going to ruin her life the way she ruined mine. Which means that I’m going to get her kicked out of Bercester U.

I eat another piece of potato from my plate. Chewing carefully, I watch the back of Elle’s head while I consider my next move.

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