Page 17 of Deadly Sacrifice

Thursday after my morning classes, I’m walking through a crowded hall on my way to the cafeteria. It’s quickly becoming one of my favorite parts of this whole college experience. First years get access to the cafeteria for free — because apparently the school board thinks we’ll all starve to death without free food — and the options laid out for every meal are surprisingly amazing.

There are stations with different cuisines set up along the walls of the large space. Italian, America, Chinese, and more. Whatever you’re in the mood for, you’re sure to find it here. I’ve binged myself on greasy pizza, Pad Thai, and tamales pretty much since day one. And don’t even get me started on the dessert table. I may become a professional student — you know, those people who take a butt load of classes and end up with several degrees because they like learning — just so I can stay here and eat all the food.

At least I’m truly excited about one thing at Blackwood University.

The thought of smelling all those different spices and melty cheeses while I scan the options today has me walking with a bit more pep in my step. But then I lock eyes with Asher, and that good mood floats just out of reach. His forest green gaze is hard and his expression harder. My steps falter when he pushes off the wall he was leaning on and walks my way.

The other day in the frat house when I found out they were my assigned guys for the semester, he seemed normal. Like me turning him down twice hasn’t deterred him. And even though I’ve sworn not to waste my time and risk my heart by getting tangled up with a guy, the look he gave me when I told him I might say yes one day gave me butterflies. Like maybe I’m doing this all wrong, and I should just give in to him already. But now? Nothing about his expression says he’s eager to win me over. It looks a lot more like he’s eager to strangle me.

What the hell has changed in less than a week?

I hold my head up as he approaches, slowing my steps so I don’t get too close. “Hey, what’s up?” I ask casually, while internally cussing him out six ways to Sunday for delaying my meal.

“Sit with us,” he says, lazily dragging his eyes over the students walking by us while barely sparing me an ounce of attention. Not that I really care, but geez, a girl could take it personally.

“Sure, why not?” I reply, stepping around him to enter the cafeteria. I’m fucking starving, and Asher is going to find out how real the term hangry becomes for me in about thirty seconds.

He grabs my arm and yanks me over to the wall, his fingers too tight around my bicep as he lowers his face to mine. “Not just today. Every day, from here on out,” he murmurs, his voice taking on a cruel undertone that sets off warnings in my brain. Gone is the charming guy who was trying too hard for a date with some stranger who walked in on him in the bathroom. Whoever the hell I’m looking at now is vicious and looking to inflict pain.

I study his once gorgeous face, but all I can find right now is a chilling menace. “Why?” I grit out, trying and failing to pull my arm free. Tons of students are walking by, going in and out of the cafeteria, but not a single one of them looks over at me. I don’t want to cause a scene, but I’m frantically scanning the passing bodies, hoping to lock eyes with someone. Anyone who might see my rising panic and think to step in.

“Because Prudence Cate,” he murmurs in a low voice as he tightens his fingers around my arm. “For the next four months, you’ll answer to us. We ask you to do something, you follow without question. And you can expect we’ll have pretty big requests. Maybe even some pretty private, intimate requests. After all, what good are you for us if we don’t get anything out of it?”

And just like that, my confusion and irritation are gone. Now I’m enraged. “And if I don’t comply? What then?” I seethe, my voice lethal as I glare at him and imagine taking a bat to his pretty face.

Asher shrugs, feigning indifference when really his eyes tell a much more violent story. “Then you may as well leave now before you piss me off. I’ll make sure Heather knows you just don’t have what it takes to be Greek, and she’ll send another girl our way before the weekend comes.”

“You can’t do that,” I say, trying to yank my arm free once more. “Creed and Griffin won’t agree with this. Believe it or not, your friends seem to like me.”

A muscle flexes in Asher’s jaw, and his nostrils flare. “You haven’t met Griffin yet.”

I take a steadying breath and then another, working like hell to ignore all the vile emotions bubbling up within me. I’m hurt that Asher turned out to be such a bastard, and I’m fucking pissed at myself for feeling any type of way regarding him. I’m embarrassed that I thought only a few days ago maybe he could convince me to go on that date. I’ve never been more wrong about someone.

“I met him in the library the other night. He walked me home,” I explain impatiently, watching Asher’s face for any sign that he’ll calm down and let me go.

Something snaps into place in his mind, and if I thought he looked mean a second ago, now he looks like he could maul me to death with his teeth. “You’re nothing but fucking trouble, you know that? You show up here, disrupting our lives, and send Griffin spiraling again. What did you say to him?”

I blink owlishly, bringing back the pleasant twenty minutes that I had with Griffin that night. “N-nothing. What do you mean he—“

“Stay away from him, you hear me?” he hisses. I shake my head, ready to argue until my lungs explode, but I don’t get the chance. Asher releases my arm only to grab my jaw in his hand, squeezing until my lips squish and a pained whimper crawls up my throat. “From now on, we own you. You’ll listen to every one of our demands, or you’ll find yourself removed from B.U. faster than you can fucking blink, got it? I have more say in your life than you’ll ever realize.” He stares at me for a beat, our faces so close that I can feel every harsh exhale across my skin. Asher gives my face a small shake, and adds, “My first request is simple; answer to Creed and I, and leave Griffin alone. If you can’t follow that one fucking rule, so help me God, Prudence, you’ll be more than sorry.”

I’m almost positive my cheeks will be bruised by the morning from his harsh grip. I nod as much as he’ll allow, swallowing back the bitter lump in my throat. I’ve grossly underestimated how Greek life works on campus. These people are clearly dangerous, and I’ve landed myself right in the middle of their rich, entitled little worlds. I could say to hell with it all. I could back out, turn down my position in A.Chi.O. But what’s the point of being here for Mom if I’m only doing half of what I came here for? Being Greek is a big part of what my mom has talked about for years. It’s possible that’s where I’ll find some answers about things she’s always mentioned in passing, or never completely explained. So as much as it pains me, I can’t give up. I’m doing this for Mom. They’ll have to break me down first, and I’m not easy prey.

Cautiously, I lift my hand and curl my fingers around Asher’s wrist. He squeezes my face in warning, and my teeth bite into the soft skin of my cheeks. “Being here is…” I start, going slow and forcing each word out. “It’s important to me. So be a dick, order me around. I’ll fall in line.”

Asher relaxes his hold on my cheeks. He grins down at me, sharp and wicked, showing a side of himself I’m not sure I want to know. It falls the next second when I narrow my eyes in disgust and add, “But if you think it’ll be easy, if you expect me not to fight you at every turn, then you’re dumber than you look.”

He blinks hard, like he’s envisioning my demise and just barely restraining himself from seeing it through. He opens his mouth, but doesn’t get the chance to say anything more.

“Asher,” a low voice warns from beside us.

Asher lets me go and we both swing our gazes to Creed. His artfully messy black hair is falling into his eyes, but not enough to cover the murderous glint he’s shooting at his friend. He grits his teeth as he and Asher have some kind of silent conversation.

“You okay, Ember?” Creed finally asks, flicking his whiskey eyes toward me for a moment to offer a soft, concerned look before returning his hard gaze to Asher.

Am I okay? My legs are shaking, my cheeks hurt, and I’m pretty sure I can taste blood. I’ve been assaulted right in the middle of a busy hallway, and not a single person even slowed down to see if I was alright as they walked by.

“I’m fine,” I lie, giving Asher a withering stare before readjusting my backpack on my shoulders and walking away.

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