Page 116 of Claiming Pretty

“Really?” His voice was laced with mockery. “And you think I can grant you such an invitation? What makes you think you deserve to be part of this… Sochai, if it did so happen to exist?”

I leaned closer, keeping my voice low. “Before he died, my father showed me… everything. In an effort to groom me. He let me… spend time with my sweet, sweet sister.”

The dean’s gaze never wavered from mine as if we were locked in a battle of wills.

I forced myself to finish. “He taught me that my world has no limits. What I desire is mine. I shall not be excluded from the Sochai any longer.”

A long silence hung between us before the dean chuckled, the sound dark and predatory.

“As it was…” He paused, a weighted pause. Like… Like he was waiting for me to answer.

Panic swirled in my chest. I didn’t know the response he wanted, but I had to say something.

The dean’s disappointed expression made my stomach drop.

The dean was about to leave. Disappear. Slip betweenthe curtains and escape. I couldn’t lose this chance, couldn’t let Ava throw herself into danger.

Then, like a whisper from the shadows, Ty’s voice echoed in my mind—his words from the professor’s diary.

“One day, when they are ready, my boys will approach the High Lord with my signet ring and ask for entrance into this holy circle.

“As it was, as it has always been.”

I ripped the ring from my finger and hurled it onto the stone terrace. It skittered across the cold, unforgiving floor, each metallic clatter pounding in my chest like an iron fist, before coming to a stop in front of the dean’s polished black shoes.

I spoke loud and clear. “As it has always been.”

The dean turned slowly, his face twisting into a cruel smile. His gaze flicked from the ring lying on the stones to meet my eyes, assessing me like a predator sizing up prey.

He tilted his head and stroked his weak chin, his voice as smooth as venom. “I always thought it would be your brother who came to us.”

My jaw tightened, but I forced myself not to flinch, not to look away.

The fog curled around us like smoke, thickening with the silence as his unspoken will pressed against me, heavy and suffocating.

After an excruciating pause, the dean bent down, his thin fingers curling around the ring.

I forced myself to stay still as he straightened and walked to me, holding the ring up in the firelight.

Then, with a deliberate slowness, he extended it toward me. Not to hand it back—but to put it on for me.

My stomach churned, but I swallowed down the bile. Forcing my hand forward, I held out my finger, every fiber of my being screaming against the submission.

The cold, unyielding metal slid onto my skin, its weight nauseating.

His grip lingered as he tilted my hand, angling the ring until the flames reflected in the gleaming band and I fought the urge to yank my hand away.

His thumb rubbed over it, almost fondly, like it belonged to him more than to me. “You’ll have to pass the initiation.”

My heart pounded in my chest, but I kept my expression neutral, my voice steady. “I’m ready.”

The dean’s lips curved in a faint, twisted smile. “You have twenty-four hours…”

Twenty-four hours for what? To do what? The tension clawed at me, but I couldn’t push. Not now. Not when I was this close.

Without another word, he leaned in, brushing a cold kiss against each of my cheeks and it left a trail of ice in its wake.

Then he was gone, disappearing into the mist like a phantom.

---