Page 4 of Beautiful Venom

“Dunno. Probably? Who cares as long as the story served its purpose.” Preston releases a sigh. “People are so easy to mess with, it’s getting boring.”

Jude removes his gloves and throws them at Preston’s face.

The latter scrunches his nose. “Uncultured as always, Callahan.”

My gaze zeroes in on the black ring on Jude’s index finger. Similar to that of Kane’s, though his is branded with his family’s symbol—a caduceus wrapped in thorny vines. Preston has one as well. His has the symbol of a sun and a crescent moon.

They weren’t wearing them during the game, probably due to regulations. They must have them on now because they’re practicing on their own.

Maybe they don’t want to be seen without proof of their allegiance.

Or proof of their power in this place.

People think Graystone Ridge is a sprawling, affluent town nestled in the US’s Northeast, where history and wealth blend seamlessly with modern ambition. The heart of the town’s center offers a mix of upscale cafés, designer shops, and historical landmarks lining cobblestone streets.

People also believe Graystone University, which is perched on the edge of the town, is a prestigious institution known for producing both academic and athletic powerhouses. Its historical architecture has aged well, harmonizing with its surroundings. While it offers renowned programs in business, law, sciences, and sports medicine, its true pride lies in its hockey program, which has become a breeding ground for future NHL stars.

The student body is a blend of wealthy legacy people—like Kane, Jude, and Preston—and ambitious scholarship students, drawn to Graystone for its connections and prestige—like me.

What people don’t know, however, is that beneath this shining exterior, the university hides a shadowy influence: Vencor. The secret society tied to its and the town’s founding families. Power here is not just earned but manipulated and handed down through generations.

Every corner of this place whispers power for the elite families who shaped the town.

The Davenports, Callahans, Armstrongs, and Osborns live in a gated enclave called Ravenswood Hill on the outskirts, in the mist-filled forest that looms above the town. Behind heavy iron gates, their secluded mansions reflect a legacy of influence and control over the town. The roads leading to Ravenswood Hill are lined with towering oaks and hidden security systems, creating an air of exclusivity and mystery.

The Hill has always been off-limits to outsiders, which is why I have to approach these three at college instead.

Or more like one.

Kane is my best bet. I don’t think he’s an idiot I can fool easily, but he’s at least a pacifist. Over the past few weeks, I watched many of his games online and in person—call the stalking police—and have never seen him indulge in violence.

Notonce.

That’s kind of a miracle in a physical sport like hockey.

If anything, he’s an expert at breaking up fights. His cool is never ruffled and his authoritativeness can be felt through the screen. Probably why he effortlessly snatched the captain’s position.

I’d rather not get close to any of them, but I have to, so it has to be Kane.

“Anyone you’ll invite this time?” Kane asks Jude as he skates to the bench area.

“No,” the latter says without turning around.

“Sure about that?”

“Yes. Fuck off.” And with that, Jude leaves the ice and heads to the tunnel, disappearing out of view.

A faint mechanical hum from the ice machines overpowers the silence as Kane looks at Preston for a few heavy seconds. “You?”

“Contemplating it.”

“You’re expected to vet and bring someone to the initiation, Pres.”

“You didn’t tell Jude that.”

“It’s better he doesn’t. He’ll just force someone off the street to accompany him, and we don’t want to deal with that mess. You’re different. Use your conviction skills. I mean manipulation skills.”

“Last time I did that, she didn’t want to drink my blood. Nearly killed her before she was kicked out.” He frowns. “How could anyone refusemyblood?”

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