SINFUL STORMS

BECCA STEELE

Sinful Storms

Copyright © 2025 by Becca Steele

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner for the purpose of training artificial intelligence technologies or systems.

Editing by One Love Editing

Proofreading by Rumi

Cover design by Opulent Designs

Becca Steele

www.authorbeccasteele.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

PLAYLIST

MATCH MADE IN HELL - Dutch Melrose, benny mayne

Medusa (Stone) - Theory of a Deadman

Vibes - Chase Atlantic

Saints - Echos

Intrusive Thoughts - Natalie Jane

Drive You Insane - Daniel Di Angelo

Hurricane - Tommee Profitt, Fleurie

Let It Go - Chandler Leighton, Lø Spirit

Meddle About - Chase Atlantic

Dangerous Hands - Austin Giorgio

Is It Really You? - Sleep Token, Loathe

feel like shit - Tate McRae

FORGET YOU - Dutch Melrose

Beggin For Thread - BANKS

Put A Little Love On Me - Niall Horan

Next To Me - Imagine Dragons

Find the playlist on Spotify or YouTube

AUTHOR’S NOTE

The author is British, and this story contains British English spellings and phrases.

For Jade

Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies.

— ARISTOTLE

LEGEND

Legend tells of three gods. Zeus, king of all the gods and ruler of the skies, Hades, ruler of the underworld, and Poseidon, ruler of the seas.

The three gods were brothers.

According to legend, the gods grew bored with their immortal lives, and their attention was drawn by the humans who lived in the mortal realm. Each of them took women, and sometimes men, even though it was forbidden. Poseidon, in particular, was known for his promiscuity, and stories about him began to spread far and wide.

When the Titans, parents of the gods, discovered what had been done, they threatened the gods with banishment and even death. So the gods agreed never to visit the mortal realm again.

Thousands of years passed, and humans no longer believed in the gods, although the legends remained.

The blood of the gods was strong, though. Every so often, a child would be born who would be faster, stronger, more beautiful than those around them. The inherent characteristics of the gods could be seen in these children, too, shaping their personalities and lives.

Did the gods exist?

Was it all a myth?

No one knows for sure. But eighteen years ago, a boy was born. A boy with hair the colour of spun gold and eyes the electric blue of lightning.

Some said the boy was arrogant. Privileged. Spoiled. Placed on a pedestal of his own making. Others flocked to him, admired him, longed to be in his presence.

His family connections and many admirers led him to ascend to the highest pedestal. Captain of the lacrosse team. Head boy. The leader of Hatherley Hall’s elite.

The king of the gods.

Yet, not all that glitters is gold. Sometimes, that which shines the brightest hides the darkest secrets.

It only takes one moment for everything to change.

One moment and one girl…

PROLOGUE

ARIA

EIGHT YEARS OLD

Branches scraped across the stone walls, making me shiver. Then, the rain rattled the windowpanes, and I gasped out loud. In the darkness, the shadows loomed over me like monsters from my dreams.

There was a loud rumble, followed by a bright flash of light, and I dived out of the warmth of my bed, scrambling into the space beneath the frame. Curling my body to make it as small as I could, I squeezed my eyes shut.

I could still see the lightning.

A creak sounded in the split second of silence from the storm. Tears fell from my eyes as I bit down on my lip to stifle the cries that wanted to escape.

“Aria.”

A thin, small pair of arms came around me, a body curling up against mine, warming the chill across my back.

“I’m scared, Tristan,” I whispered.

“I know. I won’t let the storm hurt you,” Tristan whispered back, placing one hand over my exposed ear and another over my eyes. We were cocooned by the darkness beneath my bed, and gradually, I felt myself relax.

“Do you trust me?”

His voice was uncertain, and it made me sad because I did trust him. I trusted my godbrother more than anyone in the world.

“Course I do,” I said immediately.

“Want to see something cool? I promise it’s safe.”

“Okay.”

“Put your hands over your ears and keep your eyes closed,” he said. I held myself still with my palms covering my ears and my eyes squeezed shut until Tristan came back. I knew I shouldn’t be scared, but ever since my grandma had told me her twin brother had died in an accident during a storm, I’d been afraid at the first sign of lightning or rumble of thunder.

When Tristan returned, he put some big headphones over my ears, and everything went silent. I felt hands on my face, and I dared to open my eyes. A head of tousled blond hair was the first thing I saw, and then electric-blue eyes met mine. He nodded encouragingly. I gave him a wobbly smile, and he returned it with one of his big smiles that showed all his teeth. Those were my favourite smiles from him.

Letting go of my face, he gripped my wrist, pulling lightly, and with a shaky breath, I slowly crawled out from under the bed. He led me out of my bedroom and down the hall to his room. It seemed like a long way, even though his room was next door to mine. I’d been staying here for almost a month now, and I still wasn’t used to the size of this mansion. It was the biggest house I’d ever seen, like a royal palace or something.

I dragged my heels when we were inside Tristan’s bedroom, and I realised he was leading me to his window seat, but he shook his head at me, tugging harder. My gaze darted to the window, and another flash of lightning lit up the sky. I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut again as my whole body trembled.

Tristan’s arm wrapped around my waist, and the next thing I knew, he was pulling me down, his chest warm against my back and his legs on either side of mine, which were stretched out in front of me. When I opened my eyes again, I realised we were on his window seat, and he was cocooning me as best as he could with his body. His arms were around my waist, and he’d balanced his iPad on my thighs.

I temporarily forgot about the storm. Curious, I watched as he put his finger to his screen and began carefully writing a message, all in shaky capitals.

DID YOU KNOW LIGHTNING BOLTS ARE 2 MILES LONG?!!!

He added a little drawing of a lightning bolt and then a few extra exclamation marks. At the hesitant shake of my head, he started writing again.

THEY ARE AS WIDE AS A MAN’S THUMB. WEIRD!!!

A smile pulled at my lips.

THEY ARE 5 TIMES HOTTER THAN THE SUN!!!

A laugh burst from me, and I felt Tristan laugh against the side of my head. He switched to the eraser tool and quickly cleared the screen.

WE HAVE A LIGHTNING ROD SO WE CAN WATCH THE STORM AND BE SAFE. IT WON’T HURT YOU.

When he lifted his hand, I carefully added a word below his sentence.

PROMISE?

Nodding, he used his finger to erase the question mark next to my word and then underlined it. I breathed out, gradually relaxing into him, and together, we watched the lightning show until it was over.

That night was the first night in my life that I forgot to be afraid of the storm.

1

ARIA

PRESENT DAY

Warm sun. Check. My friends. Check. Tristan fucking Smith-Chamberlain. Check—wait, what? No.

I tilted my head upwards, screwing my eyes up against the sun as it beat against my lids. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

I swung my head around so fast that I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d managed to get whiplash. My friends Elena and Quinn were making their way along the row of tiered spectator seats towards me with various parents in tow. I sighed, shaking my head as I took in their attire. The two of them were clad in navy lacrosse team jerseys with royal blue trim, with their boyfriends’ numbers stamped across the backs.

I studied them as they drew nearer to me. They were my closest friends, but sometimes, especially lately, I felt as if we were miles apart. I was…me. According to my godbrother, I was rude and abrasive, and I couldn’t even deny it. My friends weren’t like that at all. Take Elena, with her cascade of shiny deep brown hair and golden-brown eyes fringed with long lashes. Then there was Quinn, with lighter brown hair threaded through with reds and golds and huge eyes in a kaleidoscope of blues and greens and greys. Both of them were beautiful, confident, and popular, and most importantly, they were personable. Nice. People liked them. And for the icing on the cake—not my cake, but some people’s cake—they both had popular, lacrosse-playing boyfriends with dark hair and film star good looks who practically worshipped the ground they walked on.

Elena and Quinn had repeatedly told me that people liked me, and that was supposedly why I’d been voted for as one of the goddesses at the recent school ball. In my opinion, I’d been voted for purely for the fact that I gave no fucks, which was a good enough reason to me. Some people—the people who had voted for me—liked to say they admired someone who didn’t give a shit or said what they were thinking without worrying about the consequences. They’d outwardly admire those traits, anyway, while inwardly, they knew that they themselves would never say anything to rock the boat.

Back to my friends, though. Neither of them had chosen their popularity. But when you were dating one of the gods of Hatherley Hall, you had no choice but to be in the limelight. In my opinion, they’d fitted into their roles seamlessly, completely at home as the girlfriends of two of the three most desirable boys at Hatherley Hall.

“Nothing,” I mumbled as they took their seats. “I was just talking to myself.”

The teams lined up, and Quinn glanced at me. “Thanks for coming.”

I sighed. “You know I’ll always show up to support you. And the team…I guess.” My gaze flicked over her, and I shook my head. “I’d never be caught dead wearing a lacrosse jersey, though.”

“You might if your boyfriend was a lacrosse player,” Elena said under her breath. I discreetly gave her the finger. She laughed but fell silent as the game began. Hatherley Hall’s team was playing Cheltenham, and everyone knew it was going to be a tough game.

I pointedly looked away as the team captain jogged onto the field, his blue eyes blazing with determination as he faced off against the Cheltenham captain.

Tristan Smith-Chamberlain might have been the golden boy of Hatherley Hall, but to me, he was nothing but trouble.

When he jogged past me, purposely shooting me a wide, fake grin, I returned it with a glare and a discreet middle finger. His fake smile melted into a real one, and I turned away, fixing my gaze on the castle-esque structure of our school building across the far side of the field. The sandy Cotswold stone appeared as more of a burnished gold in the sun, the lead-paned windows glittering, reflecting the rays. As far as exclusive private boarding schools went, it was impressive, but the beauty of the building didn’t necessarily reflect what was inside. This year had been filled with drama I could never have anticipated, and I just hoped that the remainder of my time here was calmer, aside from the stress of A-level exams.

My gaze flitted towards my sanctuary. From my position in the stands, it was barely visible. All I could see was the top of the right-hand corner of the crumbling bell tower. The tower everyone else seemed to have either forgotten or didn’t even realise was there to begin with. Staff and students alike.

Everyone except for me.

Me, and Tristan Smith-Chamberlain.

The lacrosse team had beaten Cheltenham 14-9, and everyone else was celebrating the win at a party deep within the crypts hidden beneath Hatherley Hall’s cellars. I wasn’t in a celebratory mood. Instead, I was sprawled out on my bed, deep in a conversation with my grandma about a house renovation TV show we’d both been watching. Every now and then, my grandad joined our video chat, giving his opinion on the redecoration ideas before returning his attention to the sudoku puzzle he was working on.

“How was the lacrosse game?” my grandma suddenly asked in the middle of a debate about grey versus blue walls.

“The game? Today?”

“Yes. Did Tristan score any goals?”

Images flashed through my mind. Tristan running down the field. The ball flying from his net to Roman. The screams of the crowd as the team scored. Tristan, his eyes sparkling behind his helmet, sweating and breathless, shooting a grin at his teammates. Shooting a grin at me that had started out as fake and become real when he’d realised how annoyed I was.

Tristan, Tristan, Tristan.

“Fuck him,” I muttered.

“What was that, dear?”

Oh, shit. I hadn’t realised I’d said that out loud. Of course the golden boy, the glory hunter himself, would take the starring role in the game, even in my mind.

“I said yes. He scored some goals. The team played well. They won.”

“They did.” Her voice was firm, like there’d been no question that Hatherley Hall would beat Cheltenham. “We must get together with Tristan soon. We have a lot to celebrate.”

“I’ll find out when he’s free,” I said.

I wouldn’t.

One second spent with him was a second too long for me.

2

ARIA

“Of everyone in this school, why do you always end up in my vicinity? You’re like a fucking cockroach that won’t die.”

Tristan’s brows lifted, his lip curling with amusement as he slid into the empty seat next to mine. “You want me to die? I’m wounded, little scorpion.”

“Don’t call me that. It’s bad enough that I have to be in the same classroom as you, not to mention that farce of a ball where we were forced to dance together. Now you decide you want to sit with me? Why? Why would you even want to sit here?” I pointedly glanced around the classroom, where there were plenty of seats available, far away from me.

He tutted, shaking his head, his stupidly blue eyes sparkling with humour. “Such a filthy mouth from a supposedly classy girl.” 

I took him in. Navy blazer with royal blue piping. Zero creases. Pale blue shirt and a tie in the school colours. Perfectly pressed navy trousers and a shiny metal badge pinned to his lapel. I rolled my eyes. “Sorry, Head Boy. I can’t bring myself to fake it like you. Golden on the outside but depraved on the inside.”

“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me. Did you ever think of that?”

“No. That’s all you. You don’t get to blame your personality defects on me. Now, please leave and find someone else to piss off with your irritating presence.” I jabbed my fingernail into his solid bicep to emphasise my point, and he smirked, flexing his muscle. Dickhead.

“Miss Harper. Mr. Smith-Chamberlain. Are you quite finished disrupting my lesson?”

My gaze shot to Professor Watkins, our politics teacher, who I hadn’t noticed standing in front of our table, his arms folded across his chest and his mouth set in a thin line.

“My apologies, Professor. Just a slight disagreement regarding the seating arrangements, but I’m sure we can work through it,” Tristan said smoothly, flashing our teacher one of his patented fake smiles. Ugh. Everything about him was so fucking fake, his rich boy arrogance radiating from him like a repelling shield. Having said that, there were plenty of deluded people who fell for his supposed charm. And that was why he was the head boy and why he’d slept his way through…no, I didn’t even want to think about his ridiculously high body count. I shuddered as I crossed one leg over the other, smoothing out the resulting crease in my navy, black, and royal blue tartan skirt. Getting near his diseased dick—the thought made me gag.

“Very well. See that you keep it down and stay in your seats. I’m expecting the two of you to set an example.” Professor Watkins spun on his heel and strode back up to the front of the classroom.

“The two of us? He must be joking. Speaking of the two of us, why would you even think it was a good idea to sit next to me? Surely everyone knows by now that I hate you, including you.”

“That hate goes both ways, and you know it. Most people would be dying to sit with me,” he hissed, his mask finally cracking and his irritation slipping out.

I smiled in response to the first genuine reaction I’d seen from him today. His jaw tightened, but he recovered quickly, mouthing hate you and blowing me a kiss with his middle finger. I returned the gesture, to which he flashed me a proper smile. 

I hated it.

I hated him.

And most of all, I hated the way he made my heart beat faster with his smile.

“Can you believe the head boy actually had the audacity to sit with me? He always sits at the front, and now he’s just trying to make my life a misery.” I groaned as I flopped back onto Quinn’s bed in the dorm room we shared with Gracelyn and Samira. A shaft of sunlight slanted through the tall lead-paned window above the bed, a golden strip bathing the Cotswold stone walls in a honey glow, and I glared at it. Even nature was out to get me, reminding me of the golden boy everywhere I went.

My roommate laughed, glancing over at Grace and Mira, who I just knew were rolling their eyes. Whether it was at my complaint or about the fact that they, too, knew just how much of an arrogant dickhead Tristan was, I couldn’t be sure. Probably both.

“It’s bad enough that I’m constantly forced into his proximity with you and Elena dating Roman and Knox. Two of the three gods— Oh, fuck my life! I cannot believe I actually referred to them as the gods. I’m gonna throw up.”

Quinn laughed even harder. “It’s not like you to be this dramatic.” She stroked a soothing hand through my hair. “Everyone calls them the gods, so I wouldn’t worry about it. Just don’t call them gods in front of Tristan, unless you want him to comment on it.”

“Or do,” Samira suggested, and there was definitely a smirk in her voice.

“The day I call Tristan Smith-Chamberlain a god is the day hell actually freezes over.” I sighed, pulling myself upright. Quinn eyed me carefully, concern replacing her humour, and I shook my head quickly. “It’s okay. Really. I don’t know why I’m overreacting so much. Probably because I was taken by surprise. Or maybe I’m just hormonal or something. Whatever.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything,” Quinn murmured. “I might be in a relationship with Roman, but I’d never betray your trust.”

“I know. Thanks.” Speaking of her thing with Roman… “How are you doing after everything that happened at the ball? It feels like we haven’t really talked about it much.”

Quinn shook her head. “To be honest, I don’t really want to talk about it. I’d rather forget it. It still feels like a dream, you know. Or a nightmare, I guess. Finding out that someone I thought was a friend tried to sabotage me…not to mention my boyfriend… It really doesn’t seem real.”

“Yeah. It was so fucked up, and I’m so glad you managed to expose her. And now she has to pay the price. I, for one, am glad to see the back of her. If anything had happened to you…”

“I know. Can we just…I don’t want to think about it anymore. I just want to put the past behind us and enjoy what’s left of the year. We’ll be graduating soon, and I’d like to leave with some better memories.”

I reached out to squeeze her hand. “Of course.” Glancing over at the shelf above my desk where a golden laurel wreath crown lay, mocking me, I added, “Believe me, I have a lot of memories of that ball I’d rather forget, too.” Not least the fact that there had been Hatherley Hall’s version of a prom king and queen vote, which involved the students voting for the six people who would be crowned as gods and goddesses during the ball. How I’d ended up being crowned as a goddess was a mystery to me. I’d never wanted or cared about popularity, and yet, somehow, enough people seemed to like me that I’d actually received enough votes to be a goddess. I was at a loss as to why.

Gracelyn cleared her throat. “I have some gossip if you want a change of subject.”

“Please.”

“I heard from a reliable source that Tristan’s dad is being voted in as the Nottswood mayor.”

“His family really wants to run this town, doesn’t it?” Samira mused. “His uncle’s a big-time judge, his mum’s on our school’s board of governors here, they have a family portfolio that keeps them rich beyond my wildest dreams…do I need to continue?”

I groaned again. It was no secret that my godparents were unspeakably rich and flash with their cash. They’d tried to give me plenty of it over the years. I did appreciate their generosity, but I’d never allowed myself to accept it. The truth was, they pitied me, as did Tristan, and that was why I’d never accept a penny from them. Yes, my mother had died in childbirth. Yes, my father had overdosed and died when he couldn’t live without her. Yes, I’d been brought up by my grandparents, and my grandmother had been in and out of hospital with various health issues when I was little. That had necessitated several stays with the Smith-Chamberlains, the longest of which lasted an entire summer when I was just eight years old. But the last thing I wanted was to be pitied. I had my inheritance from my parents, which provided me with enough to cover everything I needed for school, and my tuition fees were paid directly to the school from an account that had been set up when my mother was pregnant with me. I was in a place of privilege compared to the majority of the population, and I didn’t need anyone feeling sorry for me.

I probably sounded so fucking ungrateful. I wasn’t. I just hated the way I sometimes felt so small around my godparents. The way they treated me like a fragile thing that could break at any moment, like I was something to be pitied.

The fact that the Smith-Chamberlains were my godparents was kind of an open secret, too. At least, I’d always assumed so. No one had really spoken about them to me directly, and Tristan’s parents had never discussed the fact in public, as far as I was aware. Tristan didn’t seem keen on it being broadcasted, either, no doubt because if anyone found out he was associated with me in any way, it would tarnish his golden image.

So…while it wasn’t exactly a secret, it wasn’t something either of us mentioned. Ever. Thankfully for me, I’d been boarding at Hatherley Hall since I was eleven, and my grandmother’s health had improved to the point where I hadn’t needed to be shipped off to stay with my godparents during the holidays. And now I was legally an adult, I’d never need to stay with them again.

That summer when we were kids… It was like Tristan had been a different person back then. Kind. Caring. Gentle.

He’d been as close to me as a best friend, once. Then…around the time puberty hit him, he changed beyond recognition. He turned into an arrogant, superficial caricature of himself, only concerned with looking good, money, and, later, girls. I wasn’t even deemed worthy of his attention anymore. I wasn’t one of the elite, and I never wanted to be.

He cast me aside like I was nothing to him.

The boy who’d held me through the storm was long gone.

3

TRISTAN

“Sorry I’m late.”

My father wasn’t quite quick enough to hide his frown as Aria rushed over to our table in the private dining area of the restaurant of Nottswood Golf & Country Club, but my mother’s impeccable breeding kept her from showing her displeasure outwardly. To be fair, they were more lenient with Aria than they’d ever been with me. Lateness was not tolerated in the Smith-Chamberlain household.

“How’s my favourite goddaughter?” My mother did the fake laugh that always grated on me. Rising to her feet in complete synchronicity with my father, she greeted Aria with air kisses, and then my father kissed her on the cheek. He glanced at me over her shoulder, his brows lifting. I took the hint. With a sigh, I climbed to my feet, pulling out Aria’s chair, and dramatically swept out my hand to indicate that she should be seated.

“Aria, darling,” I murmured, brushing a kiss over her cheek as she sat down. “You look beautiful as always. Like a rose.”

I was laying it on thick, but my parents ate that shit up, and even better, Aria hated it. As for her looking beautiful…if you liked that repressed country club type, then sure, I guessed she was. We’d both adhered to today’s unspoken dress code. But while I looked like myself in a polo shirt, chinos, and loafers, Aria in a demure pastel pink dress, cardigan, and pearls was a fucking weird sight. Not to mention her jet-black hair, which was currently in loose curls falling down her back with the front pulled away from her face with some fucking sparkly clip, and her honey eyes free from make-up for a change. I knew the only reason she was dressed this way was because my parents expected it. Outside of our little gatherings, she wouldn’t be caught dead in an outfit like this. Not unless it was black and a lot shorter and tighter…

Fuck. I did not need that image in my head when I was in the vicinity of my parents. Diving back into my chair, I willed my dick to behave before flashing Aria a smile that was just as fake as my mother’s.

“Watch out for my thorns,” she hissed under her breath before returning my smile with one that showed all her teeth. “Tristan, I’m so happy you could make it. You had a late night last night with Taylor, didn’t you? Or was it Gemma—no, Emily?”

“Maybe it was all three of them. I guess you’ll never know.”

My dad laughed, and my mum tutted, immediately changing the subject.

“Aria, dear, I took the liberty of ordering you the eggs Florentine.”

Aria grimaced, although she quickly covered it up. How did my mother not know by now that Aria hated eggs Florentine? Eggs anything with hollandaise sauce on. Me, I could drink that shit…okay, that might be an exaggeration. The point was, I liked it, but Aria never had.

I distinctly remember the first time she’d tried it. Our chef, Lawrence, had spent the morning whipping up an elaborate brunch to welcome her to our home that first summer when her grandmother had been in hospital with pneumonia. She’d piled her plate high with pretty much everything on the table, and I’d been sitting there, staring at her with wide eyes and thinking there was no way my tiny little godsister was going to be able to put away all that food. She caught me staring at her plate and smirked at me, and I grinned back, watching as she brought a giant forkful of eggs drenched in hollandaise to her mouth…and promptly spat them out. All over her plate and the table.

It had been fucking funny, and my parents had been nice about it, but I’d heard them discussing Aria’s unrefined palate when she’d left the room to get cleaned up. At the time, I wasn’t really aware of what they were saying, but as I grew older and more aware and I remembered that conversation, it grated on me. So fucking what if she didn’t have a private chef and lived in a house rather than a mansion? She was rich enough to attend a private prep school, and my mother and father had obviously been close enough with her parents for them to become her godparents.

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I can’t wait for the food to get here. I need extra energy for lacrosse and the celebrations when we win. Got to carb load for the game and then all the hours of dancing with my admirers.” Ignoring Aria’s rude muttering, I sighed. “Heavy is the head that wears a crown.”

“You’re so fucking arrogant,” Aria hissed under her breath.

“That’s right, son. Taking after your father and your grandfather before him.” My dad smiled.

“Is it arrogance if it’s the truth?” I murmured to Aria, just to make her glare at me, before raising my voice. “I have an actual crown now, remember. Aria does, too.”

Aria’s glare intensified, and I quickly hid my smirk behind my napkin. My parents exchanged glances, and then my mother reached across the table and patted Aria’s hand, pity written all over her face. “We’re very proud of you for throwing your hat into the ring, so to speak, alongside the founding families. To be crowned as a goddess at the Hatherley Hall annual ball…to have all your peers vote for you…well, it’s one of the highest honours, and you achieved it, despite your family situation.”

“Thank you.” Aria’s voice was small, her body stiff and closed off. Remorse instantly filled me. Fuck. Why had I opened my mouth?

Thank fuck the food arrived, and as Aria stared down at her plate, her mouth set in a flat line, I carried out the plan I’d made before she’d arrived, right around the time my dad had been flirting with the waitress who was taking our brunch orders.

I reached for my orange juice and jerked my hand, sending the glass flying, bright orange liquid spilling all over Aria’s eggs Florentine—and a little bit on Aria herself, not that it could be helped.

My parents were too well-bred to outwardly react, although I caught my mother’s sudden gasp and my father’s harsh exhale. Aria, though…she stared down at her plate with wide eyes before her gaze dropped to her dress, the pale pink now marred with darker patches.

“Okay,” she said, her voice flat. Lifting her napkin, she dabbed at the damp areas on the fabric but quickly gave it up as a lost cause. Just as quickly, her eyes narrowed, and even though she didn’t look directly at me, I caught the savage vibes she was broadcasting.

“My apologies, Aria. It was an accident,” I said because my parents would expect an apology. “I guess it’s a good thing I was feeling hungry. You can have my avocado toast.”

“I couldn’t possibly,” she ground out.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t really need all this food so early in the day.” I patted my abs. “Don’t wanna ruin this body.”

Aria remained silent as my mother clicked her fingers for a staff member to clear her ruined breakfast, not even reacting as I slid my extra plate in front of her. Fucking stubborn little scorpion. Whatever. She could eat it, or not. It was no big deal to me. I had my own full plate of food, piled with all my favourite breakfast items.

As I was digging in, my parents brought up the ball again, and I stifled a groan. Didn’t we have anything better to talk about than something that had already happened? Okay, yes, supposedly, it was the pinnacle of the school year. And as the elite of the elite—the head boy, the most popular person in our boarding school—it should have been the pinnacle of my year, too.

Don’t get me wrong, I fucking loved the recognition. To be crowned as one of the three gods on the night was an honour. We had crowns fashioned in the shape of laurel wreaths, made from real gold, and there was a whole over-the-top crowning ceremony for the winners. Yet this year, my concerns had been elsewhere, with all the shit that had been happening behind the scenes with one of my two best friends and his girlfriend.

It was a night we all wanted to forget. Especially one certain moment that unfortunately lived rent-free in my head. The first dance for the crowned gods and goddesses. I’d had to dance with Aria, and despite the daggers she kept shooting at me from her eyes, having her hot little body in my arms had been an exercise in restraint. An exercise I hoped my dick would never have to deal with again. It came to my mind far too frequently, and every time I forced myself to think about something else, it would appear again. Usually when I was giving myself some self-love in the shower.

My jaw tightened. Fuck her for getting in my head.

Okay, new plan. It was time to remind myself for the hundredth time of what Aria Harper really meant to me. She was just an exceptionally hot and extremely fucking irritating fellow student who happened to be loosely connected to me via my parents. Once our exams were over, we’d move on with our lives and I wouldn’t have to suffer through these inconvenient thoughts anymore.

Glancing over at her, finally eating the avocado toast I’d ordered for her, I cleared my throat and addressed my parents. “Aria and I have been working together on a global governance project. She’s very studious, you know.” Hopefully, the change of subject would derail all talk of the ball, and my mood would improve, remembering how much fun it had been to piss her off by sitting next to her in our politics class.

“How wonderful!” My mother placed her hand over her heart. “It’s lovely to see you working together.” She cleared her throat, and I was instantly on alert. “In an appropriate way.”

“What do you mean by that?” I bit out, only realising my aggression when both my parents recoiled. “I mean, appropriate, how?” I asked more calmly, watching as they relaxed.

Eventually, my mother elaborated. “Well, dear, it’s just that Aria is your godsister. It was a little inappropriate for the two of you to dance together at the ball, wasn’t it?”

Not the fucking dance again. Was I ever going to be allowed to forget that?

“Okay. One. Neither of us asked for that. Two. No one thought I’d be crowned as one of the goddesses,” Aria said. When I glanced at her, I could see her gritting her teeth. I kept quiet because, honestly, anything else I said would only make things worse. The fact that my parents were her godparents was irrelevant in my eyes. We weren’t related or even step-siblings. They needed to calm the fuck down.

My father nodded. “That’s true.” His eyes widened as if he’d suddenly remembered something, and he lifted his hand in the air, drawing the attention of a staff member. “A bottle of the 2008 Louis Roederer, please.”

My brows rose at his words. It wasn’t uncommon for my parents to spend obscene amounts of money on champagne, but Cristal during a family brunch? No. Still, it was a change of subject, so I was grateful for it, regardless.

When the sommelier had returned with the bottle and filled our glasses with crisp, bubbling champagne, my mother met my father’s gaze, exchanging a conspiratorial smile before raising her flute. “To the new mayor of Nottswood.”

My father was the mayor of Nottswood? Since when?

It was as if he’d read my mind. His eyes landed on me, the same electric blue fringed with golden brown lashes, but his gaze was softened by the lines that crinkled around the edges. “There will be an official announcement tomorrow.”

“Congratulations.” I held out my hand. He shook it, and then my mother hugged me, and then Aria had to follow suit… In what felt like just a few seconds, we were in front of each other.

My parents’ eyes were on us, so we hugged stiffly, springing apart as quickly as we could. I fucking hated that my inclination was to hold on to her. It was probably some leftover childish thing from when we’d been joined at the hip for a short amount of time before she started snubbing me when I began making new friends and discovered that there were girls who were actually into me.

Aria was a fucking complicated mess of contradictions, and for my own sanity and hers, I preferred to interact with her as little as possible. The girls I chose to surround myself with were uncomplicated. Explicit in what they wanted, and they understood what I wanted in return. I enjoyed my rivalry-slash-banter with my godsister, both of us pushing each other, but it was safe. We both knew we’d never cross that line—one, because we severely disliked each other, two, because we were so different, and three, because my parents would have a lot to say if we ever lost our minds enough to be anything more than reluctantly civil.

You could find someone attractive while hating them, believe me. Especially if they made it clear how much they hated you in return.

Life was too short to complicate it with anything more than that.

4

TRISTAN

Sometimes, the day pupils who attended Hatherley Hall and spent their nights at home wondered what the rest of us got up to during the evenings. I’d heard all sorts of rumours, and most of them were untrue. Yeah, we did sneak into each other’s rooms sometimes. The crypts were in regular use for members of the elite. Students found dark, secret corners for illicit activities. But the truth was, a lot of our nights looked like this. Hanging out in our common room, chilling before our nightly curfew that preceded another day of learning. Right now, a large group of us were sprawled out in our common room on the soft rugs with a deck of cards in the centre, while other members of Epicurus House were talking quietly, doing homework, huddled in front of laptops and tablets watching TV shows, or grouped around the TV playing on one of our consoles.

I splayed out my cards, studying my hand. Not bad. Potentially good if I could keep up my poker face.

When I raised my gaze from my cards, I held out my free hand. 

“Do I look like your fucking servant?” Roman said, slapping my water bottle into my outstretched palm.

“Hey. I didn’t ask you to pass that to me.”

“No? What was the grabby hand all about?”

“Grabby hand,” I repeated, shaking my head. “Shut the fuck up. Please.”

He laughed, shoving at my shoulder. “Did anyone ever tell you that you speak way too much shit?”

“Whatever you say, grabby hand boy.”

Across the circle, honey eyes met mine for a second before flitting away. When we were away from the scrutiny of my parents, there was no pressure to act a certain way around each other, and I knew Aria wouldn’t be able to resist speaking up. I clenched my teeth, bracing myself for the inevitable as she lifted her hand, flicking her index finger towards me as she addressed Roman.

“I’ve told him he speaks too much shit before. Many times.”

I gave an exaggerated sigh. “Hmm. Of course you have. Have you ever heard the phrase ‘it takes one to know one’?”

“To know that you’d have to pay attention to the things I say,” she responded with an exaggerated eye roll.

Roman was staring between me and Aria, smirking, so I discreetly showed him my middle finger. 

“Can we get on with the game, please?” Leah called out, and I nodded.

“Yeah. Some people will use any excuse to take a look at our cards while we’re distracted.”

Leah gasped, pressing her hand of cards to her chest as she shot a suspicious look at Aria, who was sitting next to her. I exchanged an amused glance with Roman, quickly looking away before I laughed out loud, my gaze accidentally landing on Aria again.

I hate you, she mouthed, and my grin widened.

Hate you, too, I mouthed back as Roman flipped the first card in the central pile so it landed face up. An eight of diamonds.

I focused on the card game, giving Aria shit every now and then, until Leah announced that she was moving so she didn’t have to sit next to a supposed cheat anymore. That earned me a savage glare from Aria and an unexpected lapful of Leah, landing on me so suddenly that my cards scattered across the floor—thankfully, facedown—and I inhaled a mouthful of her hair. That was not a fun experience in any way. Choking on what felt like an entire forest of herbal-scented strands? I wouldn’t wish that experience on anyone. Ignoring Roman’s laughter next to me, I quickly downed the rest of my water, shifting Leah off my lap when I could finally breathe again.

Aria’s glare had turned from savage to incinerating. What was her problem now? I could’ve sworn the girl lived to get under my skin. Blowing her a discreet kiss, just to piss her off even further, I scooped up my cards in one hand and wrapped the other around Leah’s waist.

“Ready to win?” I murmured into her ear, my gaze still fixed on Aria. 

She melted into me, as I expected. “I don’t even know how to play.”

“It’s okay. I can teach you.”

Predictably, Aria rolled her eyes again, proving she was paying far too much attention to me and not enough to her surroundings. You do the same, my brain unhelpfully reminded me, and yeah, that was enough. Enough time spent in her presence before I drove myself fucking crazy.

“Take my cards,” I muttered to Roman, rising to my feet and tuning out Leah’s voice calling me back. I headed for the common room door, then out into the corridor, only stopping when I reached the top of the wide stone stairs that led down to the ground floor. Leaning back against the wall and closing my eyes, I blew out a heavy breath.

“What exactly is your problem?”

My eyes flew open to find Aria standing a few feet away from me with the same savage glare on her face and her hands on her hips as she stared me down.

“What the fuck? Are you following me?”

“Following you? Why would I do that?” she shot back, and I snorted, jerking my head towards the corridor.

“I came out here, and now you’re here, too, less than five minutes after me. You’re not fooling anyone, little scorpion.”

“What was that in there?”

My brows rose. “What was what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Can’t you manage one evening without pissing me off?”

“Honestly? Probably not,” I said truthfully.

“Great. So glad we had this conversation,” she bit out.

“So glad you decided to come out here and give me shit for no fucking reason.” I pointed towards the common room. “Go back inside and play your little card game, Aria.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

I found myself right in front of her, although I wasn’t even aware that I’d moved. Pressing her against the wall and ignoring how her body felt against mine, I lowered my head to her ear.

“I’ll say and do whatever the fuck I want. I’m the king here. Don’t forget it.”

“What you are is an arrogant, entitled, fucking bellend,” she bit out, shoving me away. Whirling on her heel, she stalked down the corridor, lifting her middle finger as she went.

When she was out of sight, I slumped against the wall with a groan, rubbing my hand over my face.

Why did I let her have this effect on me?

5

ARIA

Nudging open the false cupboard back that marked the secret entrance to the bell tower, I inhaled deeply, the night air from above filling the stairwell.

Making sure to close the cupboard door behind me, I picked my way up the ancient, worn stone stairs and entered the circular room. The night was still, stars dotting the clear, inky skies, with the moon casting a soft glow through the remains of the wall to my left. The entire top of the tower was a ruin, with crumbling walls and wind whistling through the empty spaces that had once been filled with solid stone.

I lowered myself onto the blanket I’d left here a long time ago, settling into place with my back against the wall and my legs stretched out in front of me. Lighting the joint I’d prepared earlier, I inhaled deeply, sighing with relief. 

Exhaling, I let my eyes fall closed, my mind stilling. Breathe. Take a drag. Exhale.

Footsteps echoed in the stairwell. I gritted my teeth. There was only one person it could be because Quinn was asleep in her bed, and it was the person I least wanted to see. Prefect patrols were a nightly event, but only one of the prefects had ever discovered this place.

“If you want to be more discreet, I’d suggest smoking that closer to the window. Or the space where the window used to be, at least.”

I lifted my hand, giving Tristan the finger without bothering to open my eyes. He chuckled, and I felt the brush of his blazer as he sank down next to me, invading my personal space without a care in the world. Before I could come up with a cutting remark, he plucked the joint from my fingers. 

My eyes flew open in time to see him rise to his feet and take a long, exaggerated drag, somehow managing to smirk as he did so.

“Give that back!” I jumped to my own feet, stretching up to reach the joint, but he easily held it out of my reach.

“Now, now, Aria. What kind of head boy would I be if I didn’t confiscate contraband items?”

I hated him. Truly hated him.

“Give. It. Back.”

He obnoxiously exhaled into my face, and I stamped on his foot. Unfortunately for me, unlike him, I’d changed out of my uniform. I was wearing fleecy lounge pants and a hoodie, complete with slipper boots, and therefore, I was unable to maim him with my soft soles. Instead, I got a laugh as he twisted away from me.

“Can’t quite reach?”

I gripped onto his wrist, halting his movements, and he turned back to face me. His gaze flicked down to my hand on him, then back to my face, and his brows lifted.

“Do you know how many infractions you’ve racked up tonight, little scorpion?”

I gritted my teeth. “Not my name, and I thought we’d already been through this. You’re not as pure and golden as you make yourself out to be.”

Tugging his wrist out of my grip, he brought his hand up, curling his fingers around my throat. “Open wide like a good girl.”

My jaw dropped of its own accord because I was too stunned to speak. What the fuck was happening? He inhaled the joint again, stealing even more of my precious supply.

Then, he lowered his head, sealed his mouth over mine, and exhaled.

I breathed in automatically. My mind was screaming at me to get away, far, far away, but all I could concentrate on was the sweet smoke clouding my senses, the warm press of fingers around my throat, and the hot mouth sealed over mine.

Until he dared to swipe his tongue against mine, and the sudden rage that swept over my body galvanised me into action.

“What the fuck!” I screeched, ripping his hand away from me and leaping back, pressing my spine into the wall as I stared at him in disbelief.

“Yeah, what the actual fuck,” he muttered, staring down at the joint, disgust written all over his face. Without another word, he launched it at the crumbling opening where the window had once been. It hit the wall, dropping to the floor, where it bounced off the stone area that had made up the original fireplace and rolled onto the wooden boards. With an angry growl, Tristan stalked out of the tower, his footsteps echoing off the walls as he jogged down the stairs.

I dived for the joint, needing it more than ever after…that. Whatever that had been. It had rolled into the gap between two of the ancient floorboards, and crouching down, I carefully hooked my nail underneath it to fish it out.

One of the boards shifted incrementally. Temporarily forgetting about my joint, I flexed my fingers against the wood. This tower was ruined, forgotten, the original entrance blocked up years ago, but I’d always felt that what was left of it was solid. If the floor was about to start giving way…

The board creaked but didn’t move. Okay. The floor was safe. Probably. I tapped my knuckles on the board, just to make sure. Then I moved, tapping again at the other end to be doubly sure.

My brows pulled together as I stared down at the ancient wood beneath me. Something wasn’t right.

Lowering myself down so my face was hovering above the floor, I tapped again. Then, I moved back to the other end of the board and tapped again. I repeated this with the floorboards on either side. Every time I tapped, it sounded hollow…except at one end of the original board.

My curiosity was piqued. Shuffling across the floor to the edge of the board, I carefully pried it upwards.

The nails held it in place until I added more pressure, and then, with a creak, the floorboard gave way.

I stared down at the unexpected sight, unable to breathe.

The moonlight illuminating the ruins threw shadows across the circular space, but the silvery light dipped into the void beneath the boards.

The space between the bell tower floor and the ceiling below wasn’t empty.

INTERLUDE

The student slumped back in the rowing boat, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not like you. They’ll never accept me.” 

Determined blue eyes met defeated honey-brown ones as the coxswain shook his head. “You underestimate my position here at Hatherley Hall. As my closest friend, you deserve to rise through the ranks, no matter⁠—”

“My status? My lower class? The fact I am here as a scholarship student while my twin sister works herself to the bone on the switchboards instead of completing her education?”

The coxswain leaned forwards, tapping the student’s oars. “Back to the boat shed. You’re here, are you not? Don’t be ungrateful. It doesn’t become you.”

With a sigh, the student began to row back across the lake in the direction of the boat shed. There was silence except for the gentle drag of oars through the water until the student spoke again. “I apologise. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“I know. I have a plan to make you untouchable. Revered.” A slow smile spread across the coxswain’s face. “When all the pieces are in place, you will hear from me.”

6

ARIA

The music echoed around me as I descended the stairs, bouncing off the thick stone walls of the ancient crypts that lay beneath Hatherley Hall’s cellars. Another night, another “exclusive” party for the elite and their hangers-on. Quinn had guilt-tripped me into coming, but I wasn’t planning to stay for long.

My mind was on the tower. Tonight, I’d go back and discover what was inside that locked box.

“Aww, little scorpion. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

I sighed, spinning around to face my godbrother. Raising a brow, I tapped my fingernail on his chest. “You can’t stay away from me, you mean. You’re the one who came to me. I get it, I’m irresistible, but I’m sure there are plenty of willing girls with low standards for you to try it on with instead.”

“Sounds a lot like jealousy,” he mused, dipping his head to my ear. His breath was warm against my skin. “Just say the word, Aria, and I’ll blow your mind.”

I splayed my fingers across his chest, feeling his slightly elevated heartbeat beneath my palm. “Oh, Tristan. I’m sure you could—in your little fantasies when you’re wanking your average cock and wishing you were lucky enough to fuck me. Sadly for you, that’s all it’ll ever be. A fantasy. Bye, now.”

Stepping back from him, I blew him a kiss with my middle finger. But before I could leave, he struck, lightning fast, yanking me into him, his mouth going straight back to my ear.

“By the way, sweetheart. My dick is way, way above average, and I know exactly what I’m doing with it. Too bad you’ll never get to experience it for yourself.” 

Then he released me, blowing me a kiss, followed by an obscene gesture with his tongue in his cheek. I pulled a face, and he laughed.

I fucking hated him.

Stalking away in my spiked heels, which unfortunately weren’t even high enough to allow me to look Tristan dead in the eye without lifting my chin, I grabbed the first guy I reached, wrapping my fingers around his and tugging him over to the makeshift dance floor area. When I glanced back at Tristan, I saw him staring at me with an unreadable expression, his humour gone and his jaw set.

“We’re dancing,” I told Tyrell, who was one of the lacrosse defensemen. Okay, maybe I’d purposely made a beeline for one of Tristan’s teammates, just because I knew it would piss him off even more. If you looked up manwhore in a dictionary, you’d find a picture of Tristan, so he was in no position to judge. Yet he judged. Frequently.

“Feisty,” Tyrell murmured, shooting me a grin.

“I can’t be bothered to play games. Cut to the chase, then we can get to the good part sooner,” I told him, winding my arms around his shoulders. His hands slid onto my hips, a willing participant as we began to dance.

“The good part. Mmm, maybe I should see if Tristan’s feeling generous and will let us go to the lower levels.” 

The lower levels of the crypts? No, thanks. Never, ever. “Ugh, no. I’m staying well away from the gods’ fuck dungeon. I don’t know what I might catch.”

He doubled over laughing, even though I was being completely serious. When he’d recovered, he stared down at me, a smile still tugging at his lips.

“Sexy and a good sense of humour. I like it.”

“You’ll like it even more when you’re making me see stars.”

“The only stars you’ll be seeing are the ones in the night sky,” a new voice growled from behind me. “Ty, she’s vicious. Believe me, it’s not worth your time.”

Tyrell glanced over my shoulder at Tristan. “So you say. I think I’d like to decide for myself.” 

I felt Tristan’s body press against mine for the briefest second, his mouth going to my ear yet again. “Think of me when he tries and fails to satisfy you.” Raising his voice, he said, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, man. See ya later.”

When he’d disappeared into the crowds, Tyrell pulled me closer again. “What do you say we get out of here?”

No, because that would defeat the purpose of this exercise, which was to piss Tristan off. Okay, that wasn’t strictly true. The main idea was for us both to have a good time, but irritating the man I couldn’t stand was the icing on the cake.

“How about we find a nice dark corner around here instead,” I purred, running my hand down his arm.

“I like your thinking.” 

We made a circuit of the crypts. I’d calculated that Tristan was either on the sofas with the other gods and girls draped all over him as he smoked or on the hunt for whoever he planned to dick down tonight. It was too early for him to be already doing the deed, so he had to be here somewhere.

There.

The sofas came into view, and it was as I expected. He was sprawled across one, with Knox, Roman, and their girlfriends on the other. His legs were splayed wide, a joint dangled from his fingertips, and his latest victim, aka Harriet, was perched on one of his thighs. I noticed Freya next to them with a couple of guys from the rugby team, taking turns to inhale from a suspiciously phallic-looking bong.

When my gaze slid back to Tristan, I found him looking in my direction with his brows pulled together. I wiggled my fingers in an approximation of a wave, and he scowled at me. Harriet followed suit—for a couple of seconds until she realised that I was no competition.

Nor did I want to be. Everyone knew that Tristan and I tolerated each other at best, and that was in short stretches.

Wait. It wasn’t me she was frowning at. It was Tyrell, standing with his arm wrapped around my waist. Hmm. Now I thought about it, it hadn’t been that long since the two of them had split up. 

I watched as Tristan took a long drag of the joint before grasping Harriet’s chin and turning her head to him so they could shotgun. Unwillingly, my mind flashed back to the tower, when he’d sealed his lips over mine…

Asshole.

Rubbing at my mouth as if it would take the remembered taste of him away, I turned to my partner in crime for the night. Rising up onto my toes, I placed my mouth to his ear. “How do you feel about sexual acts with an audience? A particular audience?”

He chuckled. “I don’t know why you wanna make Tristan jealous, but I’m in. I think we have the same goal, don’t we?” Sidling around my body, he pressed up against my back, and I could feel the bulge of his hardening dick. I guess the thought of a bit of exhibitionism turned him on, too. 

“I don’t want to make anyone jealous. I just want to have a bit of fun.”

“Yeah, okay.” He laughed. “Whatever you say. Either way, it’s mutually beneficial. Come on, back this way. If I know my ex, not even one of the gods has the power to keep her away. Every time I show interest in another girl, she’s all over me.”

That sounded messy. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have let myself get in the middle of it, but he was right. We did have the same goal. Sort of. So I let him back us into a dark corner, where we had a partial view of Tristan and Harriet, but we weren’t too exposed.

“Watch,” Tyrell murmured, shifting down against the wall so he could grind his erection into my ass as he trailed his nose down the side of my throat. His hand slid down my side, stopping when he reached my hip. “How do you wanna play this? I’ll go as far as you want.”

“Fingers.” I was already wet, and it wasn’t because of the guy behind me. “I’ll repay the favour afterwards.”

“Deal.” He grasped my hips, manoeuvring me so one thick thigh was pressed between my legs. Now I could lean back on him, and he could easily reach between my legs and— “I knew it. Here they come.”

My gaze snapped up to see Tristan and Harriet heading straight for us. Tristan’s expression was impossible to read, but Harriet’s was cycling through lust, jealousy, and curiosity. Much like mine probably was, minus the jealousy, because as we’d already established, I didn’t want Tristan. Harriet, though…if I wasn’t straight, I so would. She was fucking stunning. No wonder Tristan was interested in her.

Shaking off that thought, I let my eyes fall closed, my head falling back onto Tyrell’s shoulder as he teased at the hem of my short black dress, his fingertips dancing across my thigh. One finger slid beneath the hem⁠—

“Seems like we both have the same idea.”

My eyes flew open to see Tristan staring at Tyrell, his jaw set and his gaze hard. 

“Yeah. I’d say so,” Tyrell replied, humour in his voice, and I bit back a smile.

Tristan gave a pointed glance around us. “It’s a shame my girl’s not into exhibitionism with such a big audience.”

“Too bad,” I said.

“Your girl?” Tyrell bit out at the same time.

Harriet leaned back against Tristan, raising a brow at her ex. She seemed completely comfortable with the situation, and I couldn’t help wondering if it was Tristan who had the problem, not her. I did see him all over girls at parties, but most of what I’d heard about him had been rumours—most of them substantiated—about the things he got up to in the lower levels of the crypts with one or more girls at a time, sometimes with his best friends in attendance. Before they’d become coupled up, that was.

“Let’s take the party downstairs.” Tristan’s gaze slid to mine, and his lip curled. “Unless you’re too scared, Aria.”

“Fuck you. Let’s go.” I hated the way he could goad me into things so easily, but it was inevitable.

“Don’t touch anything in the fuck dungeon,” I whispered to Tyrell as we descended the stone stairs to the part of the crypts that only Tristan, Knox, Roman, and their select guests were allowed to see. “You don’t know what you might catch.”

Tyrell laughed, the sound amplified as it echoed off the stone walls, and both Tristan and Harriet stopped in their tracks, their shoulders tensing in unison.

“Get a move on,” I hissed, and with a roll of his eyes, Tristan turned away from me, stalking down the long stone passageway to the doors at the end. Using an iron key he fished from his pocket, he opened one of the doors.

The room we entered was dark and oppressive, lit by a few sconces set into the walls. A huge iron bed dominated the space, with a heavy iron pendulum hanging above it, providing the bed with a muted glow. In front of the bed was a cracked leather sofa, and unbidden, my mind jumped to the rumours. Whispers of things that had happened on that sofa. On that bed.

I shivered, and not only from the sudden chill.

Tristan released Harriet and made his way over to a box on the wall. A few seconds later, the music from the party filtered through from hidden speakers, and from somewhere above us, a red glow dimly illuminated the walls.

“I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” Harriet muttered as Tristan returned to slide his arm around her waist. I wasn’t surprised she was getting cold feet. Upstairs, it had been one thing, but down here, with just the four of us, it felt… premeditated, almost. Expectant. Not as much fun as it had seemed when the spur-of-the-moment idea had first come to me. 

Tristan glanced at me and then turned to Harriet, dipping his head to her ear. Bathed in the glow of the lights, his blond hair and tanned skin turned red, giving him an almost demonic look. It was fitting. When Harriet smiled and he spun her to face him in one smooth movement, my jaw clenched, and Tyrell growled from behind me.

“Fuck him,” I hissed, angling my head so I could see Tyrell’s profile. “Don’t you want her to be reminded of what she’s missing?”

He tore his gaze away from the couple in front of us, who were now kissing, Tristan’s hands palming Harriet’s ass as she arched into him. Raising a brow, he eyed me doubtfully. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes. Now, get your fucking hands on my tits, and let’s give them a show.” 

Approval flashed in his gaze as the corners of his lips kicked up. “You’re something else.”

“I know.” Taking his hands, I placed them on my breasts. “Go for it.”

His chuckle was buried in my hair. “This wasn’t what I expected when you asked me to dance.”

“It wasn’t what I expected, either, but hey, plans change. Just go with it.”

I moaned, low and breathy, and he huffed in my ear. “Stop making me laugh. It’s killing my boner.”

“Watching your ex and imagining that’s you with your hands all over her ass should help with that,” I murmured before moaning again, a little louder this time. If someone had asked me to explain why I was doing what I was doing, I wouldn’t be able to. This hadn’t been my original plan. All I knew was fucking with Tristan was a high like no other, and yes, that in itself was fucked up, but I didn’t really care.

“Mmm, yeah. You’re fucking hot, my girl—my ex, I mean, is fucking hot…but, yeah. I’m into this,” he said after a moment. “Let the show begin.”

He began to lightly knead my breasts through the fabric of my dress, taking the same position he had upstairs with his thigh between mine. As I watched, Tristan’s mouth went to Harriet’s neck, and his eyes opened, meeting mine.

They were so dark, flashing with electric fire. I suppressed a shiver, moaning for real as Tyrell copied what Tristan was doing, kissing down the side of my throat. Why was it so hot having Tristan’s eyes on me instead of focused on the girl he was currently kissing?

I smirked at him, and his eyes narrowed. He spun Harriet around, his hands going to her breasts, and he raised a challenging brow.

“This is so fucked up,” I muttered, closing my right hand over Tyrell’s and dragging it down the side of my body to where the hem of my dress had ridden up almost to the top of my thigh.

“Yeah, but it’s working. Look.”

I tore my gaze away from Tristan to see Harriet staring at Tyrell’s hand with undisguised jealousy. It was blatantly clear that they weren’t over each other, and I was betting that one of them was going to break before long.

I was wrong.

“Stop.”

Everyone froze at the low command, three sets of eyes whipping to Tristan. His face had become expressionless again, his jaw set, and he stared at Tyrell with hard eyes.

“I don’t fuck with my teammates’ girls.”

There was a harsh intake of breath from both Tyrell and Harriet, and they exchanged shocked glances.

“Out,” he commanded, stepping away from Harriet and jabbing his finger towards the door. 

Tyrell released me, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him nod to Tristan before he held out a hand to Harriet. She glanced at Tristan, who jerked his head towards the door, and then she moved towards Ty, taking his hand. They left the room silently, and I turned on my heel to follow. There was no way I wanted to be stuck in the fuck dungeon with an angry god. 

Stop calling him a god, for fuck’s sake.

It had to be Elena and Quinn’s fault. I never once thought of him as a god until my friends had become tangled up with the elite. 

I reached the doorway when a hand clamped around my throat from behind, yanking me back into a firm body.

“Not so fast, little scorpion.”

“Get your fucking hands off me unless you want to lose your balls,” I hissed.

Tristan laughed humourlessly. “I’d like to see you try. You cost me a good fuck tonight.”

“How exactly is that my fault? Just face it, she liked him better than you. You can’t always get your way.”

“Stop talking,” he ground out, his grip on my throat tightening, and there it was. That darker side of him that he only seemed to unleash around me. The golden boy had everyone fooled, but I knew exactly how to get beneath his skin.

I inhaled through my nose as I debated my options. Which path to choose? Violence was always fun. I could grab him by the balls—literally—or stamp my spiked heel on his overpriced Gucci loafers, or…no.

Reaching up and behind me, I curved my fingers around his nape, smiling as he stiffened in surprise. Then I rolled my hips back, my body pressing up against his dick, which, sadly, was not average, despite what I’d said to him earlier. Unfortunately, I had a weird compulsion to piss him off by hate flirting with him, which he returned with enthusiasm, secure in the knowledge that neither of us would ever follow through. That meant I’d been up close and personal with his clothed erection on a number of occasions, thankfully only for brief periods of time.

“Aria.”

I ignored the explicit warning in his tone, scraping my nails across his nape. His breath skated across my ear as he dipped his head, his free arm sliding around my waist.

“You’re playing with fire, baby. What are people gonna say when you show up with the imprint of my hand around your neck?” The pads of his fingers dug into my skin. I hated how much I liked it, coming from him. “You like to think you’re better than everyone else, don’t you? But I know you’re just as wet for me as all the other girls.”

My thin thread of control snapped, and I yanked his hand away from my throat, pulling out of his grip and spinning to face him. “Fuck you,” I spat.

“In your dreams.” He made a blatant show of adjusting his erection, an arrogant smirk on his lips, and I had to get out of there. He’d won this round, and I couldn’t stay down here for another second.

The tower was calling my name.

7

TRISTAN

My smirk fell away the minute she turned her back. Fucking Aria Harper. I stared after her as she stalked away, the clipping of her heels amplified by the stone walls. 

“Don’t fucking betray me like that again, or you’ll regret it,” I threatened my cock, which was far too interested in the high, round curve of her ass in that tight dress. It was easy enough to push aside the inconvenient effect she had on me when I was so irritated with the way things had gone down tonight.

I shouldn’t have touched her. Shouldn’t even have suggested going down to the lower levels. It had been a moment of temporary insanity. I couldn’t forget the feeling of her throat working as she swallowed beneath my grip and the way she’d deliberately pressed against me, taunting with everything I’d never have and everything I couldn’t want to have.

Scrubbing my hand across my face, I shook my head. Forget her. It was time to salvage the rest of the night. I shut everything off, closing and locking the door behind me. I reminded myself I’d more than likely be back down here later tonight with a more-than-willing partner who wouldn’t give me shit or fight back or be so fucking disdainful of me that it bordered on outright disrespect. Yeah. Who the fuck got hard from someone who did that? It was seriously messed up. My dick had a mind of its own, that was for sure.

Back upstairs, I headed straight for the sofas. Knox and Elena had disappeared, but Roman and Quinn were still there, along with Lincoln, Josh, and Sajid from the lacrosse team and several girls. I smiled. This was more like it. Taking the joint Lincoln passed to me as I reached the sofas, I inhaled deeply before moving to the other side to grab a beer from the mini fridge. Uncapping the bottle, I ditched the joint in the coffee table ashtray and took a swig. Roman caught my eye, his brows rising in an unspoken question, and I circled my index finger in the air, indicating I was going to make a circuit of the crypts. He nodded, and I took off, letting my bottle dangle loosely from my fingers as I sauntered through the crowd. I didn’t need to worry about pushing my way through—people moved for me. That was the way it was and the way it always had been. My family’s legacy here was stellar. The Smith-Chamberlains were the lynchpins of Hatherley Hall.

Except…one thing was going to change. 

My parents were going to give me shit when they found out I’d resigned as head boy, but I was sure I could spin a convincing enough story if it came to it. The truth was, the position had lost all its shine recently, and I couldn’t help but feel partly responsible for everything that had gone down with Roman and Quinn. Roman was my best friend—one of only two people I trusted with my life, the other being Knox—and the fact that things were happening beneath my nose that I wasn’t even aware of didn’t sit well with me.

I detoured to the left when I caught sight of Will and Katy against the wall. Will’s arm was loosely wrapped around Katy’s waist, the two prefects looking at ease in their surroundings despite the fact they’d never attended these parties before they’d befriended Elena. Will was a good, decent person. The type I pretended to be on the outside, but unlike me, he was good inside, too. He’d make a much better head boy than I ever would. And if not, we only had a few months left at Hatherley Hall before we all went our separate ways. 

Digging into my pocket as I reached them, I wrapped my fingers around the enamel pin badge, warm from my body heat. It glinted in the sweeping lights as I held it out to Will.

“William Fitzgerald-Jones. I’d like to offer you the position of head boy.” I shrugged, my lips curving upwards. “Not like it’s mine to give, but our esteemed headmaster will be formally offering it to you tomorrow.” Turning to his girlfriend, I added, “I hear they think the two of you make a good team, so try and act surprised when they offer you the head girl position, okay?”

With that, I pressed the badge into Will’s hand and left them both staring after me, open-mouthed. 

What to do next? Or who…?

I scanned the room once, then twice, groaning when I realised I was unconsciously looking for Aria. She hadn’t left already, had she? She wasn’t the type to run away. If anything⁠—

An image appeared in my mind of her walking away from me. At the time, I’d been too caught up in cock-related issues, but now I thought about it…she’d seemed purposeful. Determined.

My radar was pinging, and I listened to my instincts for once. My dick could wait—finding out what Aria was up to couldn’t.

With that in mind, I headed up the stairs into Hatherley Hall’s cellars, debating where to start my hunt. Aria’s dorm…the Epicurus house common room…the bell tower?

The bell tower. It had to be. 

After a quick detour to my room, where I switched out my jeans for grey cashmere sweatpants and my loafers for trainers, I grabbed a hoodie, pocketed my phone, and made my way to the off-limits part of the school.

When I entered the hidden stairwell that led up to the tower, I paused, cocking my head and listening. Faint metallic clanging sounds came from overhead, followed by a muttered curse and a long scrape that sounded like something heavy being dragged along the floor. What the fuck was happening?

Silently, I ascended the winding stairs, hugging the wall so I wouldn’t be seen until I wanted to.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I found Aria in the ruined tower room, crouching down with her back to me. An open box was placed in front of her, the metal dull and rusted. A small crowbar lay on the floor to her left, and next to it was what looked like a broken padlock. As I stepped forwards to get a better look at the contents of the box, I noticed a section of the floorboards had been prised up, revealing a dark space beneath.

She was completely intent on whatever she was doing, and so I held back, watching. Whatever it was, it was so far from what I’d expected. 

Shifting across the dusty floorboards, she reached for the blanket she kept up here, arranging it next to the box, and then took a seat on top of it, cross-legged. Reaching inside the box, she carefully lifted out a…fuck, I couldn’t see what it was. I needed to get a closer look. 

I stepped inside the room.

A floorboard creaked beneath my foot, and her head flew around, a shocked gasp tearing from her throat.

Whatever she was holding fell back into the box, and she slammed the lid shut.

“What the fuck do you want?” she hissed. It showed how shaken she was because she didn’t even try to give me any shit like she normally would, and now, my radar was pinging hard.

I thought for a second. If I asked her what she was doing outright, she wasn’t going to give me the truth. And I really wanted to know what she was up to. I just had to make sure she didn’t realise how much.

Folding my arms across my chest, I leaned against the door frame, smirking down at her.

“Did you have fun tonight, little scorpion? Letting Ty get his hands all over you while you watched Harriet with that longing expression on your face, wishing you were in her place?”

Rising to her feet, hiding the box behind her legs—which, by the way, didn’t fucking work—she shot me a savage glare. I smiled. There was the little scorpion I knew and loved to antagonise.

“You wish that was what I was thinking. Your average dick probably only got hard because I was there.”

“For someone who claims I have an average dick, you seem to talk about it a lot. Anything you want to confess?”

We’d somehow moved closer to each other, and now she was almost against my chest, still glaring up at me with all the ire she could muster up.

“That’s you projecting, head boy. Keep your fantasies in your head, where they belong.”

My smile widened into a grin. It was so much fun, fucking with her like this. “Do you want to know how many of my fantasies you star in?”

“Only if you want to pay for my therapy bill from the trauma it’ll cause me. I don’t want to know anything about the scenarios your sick mind comes up with.”

I reached out, gripping her shoulders and spinning her around before she had a chance to react, pressing her up against my back.

“Sick mind? Hmm…I think I want to know more about the kind of things you think go through my head. Come on, Aria, share with the class.”

As I lowered my head, I glanced down at the box. I still had no idea what it was, but I needed to know. Technically, I could abuse my position of authority while I was still officially head boy, even if unofficially, I’d resigned. Aria didn’t know either way. But if I did that, she’d⁠—

Every thought left my mind when Aria pressed back against me, her body right up against my hardening dick. When and how the fuck had my dick decided that now was a good time to join the party?

“You are sick. I can feel how much it’s turning you on.”

What were we even talking about? Fucking hell, I couldn’t even remember. “Maybe it’s just you,” I said, then immediately snapped my mouth shut. But the damage was already done.

She froze against me for a second, and then she slowly and deliberately tilted her head back against my chest. “I can’t help the effect I have on you.”

“Just like I can’t help the effect I have on you.” My jaw clenched, thinking about how she’d been in this position earlier with my teammate. He’d fucking touched her tits, put his hand up her dress⁠—

“You’re so delusional, Tristan.” Her voice was so fucking breathy, and it did things to my dick that I really was not happy about. What I should do was to let her go and move far, far away.

Did I do that? Fuck, no. I banded my arm around her waist, holding her in place as I skimmed my lips over her ear. “You can’t stay away from me. What is it about me? You want to join the hordes who worship at my feet?”

“Wow. You really do think you’re a god. But do you know what? Out there in the real world, you’re just another face in the crowd. Forgettable.”

I laughed, pulling her more tightly against me, and she let me. Both of us were breathing way too hard. “Baby, we both know there’s nothing forgettable about me. I’ll never be another face in the crowd.”

“If it wasn’t for your family name, you would be,” she countered, and there was a note of real resentment in her voice. It wasn’t like I could help the family I was born into. Of course I was going to use the connections I’d been given to get ahead in life. Anyone would.

“That’s unfair, Aria, and you know it.” I splayed my hand out over her stomach, my thumb tracing lazy circles over the fabric of her dress.

“Whatever,” she muttered, and the fact she didn’t have a comeback made me smile. I buried it in her hair as I let my hand slide higher, my thumb almost brushing the underside of her breast. How long had we been here, with me holding her and her making no attempt to get away?

She felt way too fucking good against me, and I didn’t like it. 

It’s okay, I reminded myself. Even if she felt good, it was safe to be like this. We strongly disliked each other, and even if by some miracle in some alternative universe we didn’t, my family would have something to say about anything happening between us. Not that they’d find out. 

A gust of wind blew through the ruined tower, and she shivered against me. Goosebumps appeared on her arms, and I detoured from my goal of getting my hands on her tits to run my hands down her arms. Fuck, she really was cold. Why hadn’t she done what I did and change before coming here? All she’d bothered to do was switch out those ridiculously high heels for her Converse.

“Why the fuck would you come up here without a hoodie?” I released her, shrugging out of my hoodie before draping it over her shoulders.

“What are you doing?” She twisted around, her gaze flying to mine and then down to my hoodie, which swamped her petite frame.

I shrugged. “What do you think?”

“Whatever you’re trying to do, it won’t work,” she bit out, pulling my hoodie off her shoulders and shoving it into my chest. “I don’t want your clothes. I don’t want you here. Get out. Go and find someone else to entertain you. Someone who actually wants you around.”

Grasping my hoodie, I shook my head. “Sorry. Can’t do that.”

“Get out.” She pushed at my chest. “Now.”

I raised a brow. “Are you gonna make me?”

We both knew that she couldn’t physically make me leave, but we also both knew just how fucking stubborn she was. As if she could read my mind, she folded her arms across her chest, shooting daggers from her eyes, attempting to eviscerate me with her gaze. Nice try. Shame looks can’t actually kill.

Her gaze flicked down to the bulge in my sweatpants, her tongue unconsciously darting out to lick her lips, and it took everything I had to not react. I remained still, keeping my eyes fixed on her, not even looking at the box.

The tower fell silent other the low whistle of wind through the gaps in the stones. Aria’s glare melted away, and her body relaxed. Her lips curved into a semblance of a smile, which immediately made alarm bells ring. “I guess if you’re going to stay, you might as well entertain me.”

What?

Sliding her hands down her body, she stared at me from beneath her lashes, all heavy-lidded and so fucking sultry that my cock stood no chance of resisting. “This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? That was why you followed me up here, after all, instead of dicking down one of your many admirers?”

She stepped closer, placing her hand on my chest, then slowly dragged her nails down my torso, over the ridges of my abs, stopping at the waistband of my sweatpants.

What the fuck was actually happening?

Her hand pushed lightly, and I took a step back.

“Take what you want,” she murmured, moving closer, pushing gently again. I took another step back. She slipped her hand under my T-shirt, and then she was touching my bare skin for the first time ever.

I sucked in a breath, noting her shaky exhale. Fuck, yeah, I knew she wanted me. Her fingers traced over my abs, pushing again, and I stepped back over the threshold.

That was when everything changed.

She ripped her hand out from under my T-shirt, gave me another push, and when I staggered backwards, she slammed the heavy wooden door in my face.

8

ARIA

Barring the door as best as I could with the old, broken wood, I swore under my breath. I knew the door wouldn’t stop Tristan for long, but hopefully, he’d decide it wasn’t worth the effort. I’d seen him eyeing that box, and I wasn’t stupid enough to be fooled by his distraction techniques.

He’d been fooled by mine, though.

I tried to forget about the way his ridiculously ripped body had felt beneath my palm. Warm skin and solid muscle, his blue eyes dark as he tracked my movements with his intense gaze, his erection tenting his joggers…

Fuck off out of my head, Tristan. Thankfully, I wasn’t one of those girls who went cockdumb every time they were faced with a hot guy, no matter how much of a wanker they actually were. Hence, my godbrother being on the other side of a heavy wooden door.

I stood, listening, but there was silence. Why wasn’t he trying to break the door down? It probably wouldn’t take much.

Another gust of wind whipped through the tower, and I dragged the thick blanket from the floor, wrapping it around my shoulders. Tristan’s hoodie had been so warm I almost regretted refusing to wear it. Almost. 

I killed some time playing games on my phone until I was sure Tristan had given up and left, and then I returned my attention to the contents of the box.

The tarnished gold ring was heavy in my hand. I examined the crest, using my phone torch to make out the details. The design appeared to be a pair of scales, with something written in letters too small to make out.

Putting the ring aside for now, I pulled out the next item. It was either a blunt dagger or a letter opener, probably, silvery in colour, with an ornate handle.

What was this doing here? 

There was a fountain pen and ink pot, the ink long dried out, ink stains still visible inside the box. Beneath the pen lay several sheets of blank paper, thick and crinkly with age. As I carefully removed the paper and pen, the final item in the box became visible.

A book. Bound in leather, with a ribbon tying it closed, and the symbol from the ring burned into the leather. Etched beneath the symbol were words I didn’t understand.

In nomine iustitiae, omnia iustificata.

Untying the ribbon, I opened the book, and my world turned upside down.

“What’s wrong?” Quinn eyed me with concern in her gaze. We were seated at the outdoor tables on the large patio area outside the school, where students often gathered for lunch on warm days.

“Nothing. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Things I couldn’t make sense of. Things I didn’t have the answer to.

She hummed, clearly disbelieving, but decided to drop it. “Did you hear that Tristan’s no longer the head boy? Will took his place, and Katy’s the new head girl.”

“What?” My eyes widened. 

“Did I hear my name?”

I groaned, burying my head in my arms as Tristan sauntered over to us, accompanied by Roman, with Knox and Elena right behind them. Quinn laughed, patting my head, and I lifted it to glare at her.

She bit down on her lip, still smiling. “Sorry. You two are just—” Cutting herself off, she shook her head. “Never mind.”

Roman slid onto the bench next to her and went to pull her into him, but she shook her head, glancing over at me. I sighed. 

“I’m fine. Promise.”

This time, she believed me, the furrow in her brow disappearing, and she turned to Roman, tilting her face for a kiss. The way he looked at her warmed something inside my cold heart…not that I wanted that for myself, but it was sweet, and I was happy for her.

“All alone over there, Aria? Want me to come and keep you company?”

I threw up my middle finger at Tristan, not even bothering with a reply to his mocking comment. A minute later, three more girls joined us, trailed by two of the lacrosse team, and that was enough for me.

Swiping the rest of my uneaten sandwich from my plate, I rose to my feet. “I left my textbook in my room,” I said, addressing Quinn and Elena. They exchanged glances, but before they could suggest coming with me, I shook my head. I grabbed my bag, swinging it over my shoulder.

I accidentally made eye contact with one of Tristan’s groupies, and before I could escape, her gaze dropped to my throat. “Hey, Aria. What’s that on your neck?”

Every. Single. Person at the table turned to look at me.

Fuck.

“Hmm. Looks a bit like a handprint. Who knew you’d enjoy a little light choking in your spare time?” Tristan smirked at me, and I gritted my teeth.

I would not let him get to me.

The only way I could avoid more scrutiny was to play it casual. I shrugged. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.”

“Who were you with last night? That wasn’t Tyrell, was it?”

“No, he ended up with Harriet.”

“Again? Why do they even bother splitting up? They always do this.”

Rolling my eyes, I left the table to their gossip.

My sandwich was gone by the time I made it back to my dorm room, and after dusting the crumbs from my hands, I studied my throat in the mirror. I hadn’t even thought about marks, but there they were—only a couple, and they were very faint but obviously noticeable enough for someone to comment on them. Fucking Tristan. Releasing my hair from its ponytail, I brushed it out, arranging it so it was falling over my shoulders. Hopefully, that would be enough to stop people from staring at my neck.

That done, I made my way over to my bed, crouching down to fish the book out of its hiding place in one of my shoeboxes. The first pages were lists of names. Some were crossed out, others had question marks next to them, and several were underlined.

It was the names that had stopped me in my tracks to begin with because there were three I recognised. 

Tristan’s grandfather.

Knox’s grandfather.

And finally, my great-uncle, with a question mark next to his name.

INTERLUDE

The cloaked, hooded figures gathered in the bell tower. Candlelight flickered, sending shadows dancing across the stone walls. Rain battered against the leaded glass of the windows, the wind howling angrily, denied entrance to their inner sanctum.

One of the figures dipped the pen into the ink pot, their pen scratching across the parchment as they wrote out the name.

The chant started softly, repeated three times, as was the custom. 

“So it is written. So it is decided.”

One of the figures spoke. “He will need to prove his worth.”

“Yes. He will complete the full ritual. First, the oath of allegiance. Then, the initiation challenge. Finally, the blood pact will complete the ritual.”

“It is dangerous.”

“Yes. The challenge must ensure he is worthy of belonging. He has more to prove than most. He is not…one of us.”

He is not elite, went unspoken.

The hooded figures bowed their heads in agreement.

The figure with the pen dipped it into the inkwell, turning to a blank page in the book, and began to write.

When they were finished, they placed the pen down, holding the book open to allow the ink to dry, and stretched out a hand.

“The letter.”

Another of the hooded figures stepped towards them, placing a piece of parchment on the table. The pen scratched across the paper, words filling the formerly blank space.

The figure folded the paper carefully and held out their hand again.

“The seal.”

Another figure came forwards, brandishing a red candle. They held it above the lit candle already on the table, allowing the wax to soften. Taking the folded paper, they let the wax drips fall.

The figure with the pen removed the heavy ring they wore on a chain around their neck, pressing it to the warm wax and marking the seal with their insignia.

When the wax was dry, they turned the paper over and wrote three words.

John William Scott.

They handed the letter to the remaining figure, who had been standing to their left. “See that this reaches him tonight.”

The figure bowed their head, and with that, the chant was repeated again, mingling with the howling winds and the battering rain.

“So it is written. So it is decided.”

9

TRISTAN

“Can we do something else? I hate computer games.” Kristen wiggled in my lap, and while the friction and her body would normally be enough to get my dick perking up in interest, tonight, I was preoccupied. It was games night in the Epi common room, and everyone was there. Everyone except for the people I needed to be. Two of them were here—Gracelyn and Samira—but the other two were nowhere to be seen.

“You don’t have to play, babe,” I murmured, running my fingers up her thigh on autopilot while I typed out a surreptitious text to Roman with my free hand.

Kristen said something I didn’t catch, too intent on what I was doing.

Me:

Can you do me a favour? I’ll owe you. Get Quinn and Aria in here and don’t let them leave

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Roman’s brows rise. With an exaggerated sigh, he climbed to his feet and disappeared through the common room door, hopefully in the direction of Aria’s room.

“Are you listening?”

I blinked, realising Kristen had been talking to me. “Yeah. No.” Fuck. I rubbed my brow. “I need to do something. Be back in a minute.”

I lifted her off my lap, shifting across the sofa so she could slide into the empty space next to Freya. She frowned, but when I kissed her cheek, she instantly forgave me, batting her lashes and giving me a look that was impossible to misinterpret.

“We’ll have some fun on our own later,” I said, squeezing her thigh.

As Roman re-entered the common room along with Quinn and Aria, I grinned, hiding my face in Kristen’s hair in case Aria noticed me and got suspicious. As I’d expected, her gaze shot straight to mine, her eyes narrowing when she realised I was already looking at her. I deliberately turned to Kristen, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, and then stood. Lucky for me, Aria had already turned away, and as I walked out of the door, I saw Quinn pull her down onto the free sofa.

My phone buzzed.

Roman:

What are you up to? Should I be worried?

Me:

No. Just make sure the girls stay there. And their other roommates

Roman:

Got you. You wanna snoop in their room. Stay away from Quinn’s shit

Me:

Obviously

Roman:

I want details after

Me:

Maybe. Just keep them busy. I owe you

Roman:

You can repay me by giving me and Quinn alone time when you’re back from your little secret mission

Me:

Fuck off

OK I’ll give you an hour

Roman:

2 or the deal’s off

Me:

Fine. Deal

I shook my head. Banished from my own bedroom. Still, it would be worth it if I could find out what Aria was hiding, and it wasn’t like Roman and Quinn had many other places to go. Me, on the other hand…I’d resigned from my head boy position, but I’d kept my key card that let me into areas of the school most students weren’t privy to. And believe me, I’d made the most of it and would continue to do so for the remainder of my time at Hatherley Hall.

Glancing both ways to make sure no one was around, I headed into the corridor where Aria’s dorm room was. Once I was inside, I instantly dismissed three of the beds. It was easy to see which one was Aria’s. For a start, my little scorpion seemed to favour black clothing, and it appeared that extended to bedding, too. None of the other three would have a duvet cover in black with tiny skulls embroidered all over it. I grinned, shaking my head. Oh, Aria. Always trying to be so edgy.

I didn’t want to go through all her private shit, but I had a good idea of the size of the box, so I shouldn’t need to be too intrusive to find it. First, I examined her wardrobe, with no luck. I opened her drawers and sucked in a breath when I caught a glimpse of rows of silky material in blacks and reds and deep purples.

Slamming the drawer shut, I straightened up, rubbing my hand over my mouth. Fuck. Now my imagination was going to be conjuring up all kinds of unwanted images of her wearing that…

The box. That was what I was here for. 

Aria’s desk was the next place I tried, but there was no sign of the box. It had to be here somewhere, unless she’d hidden it elsewhere in the school or on the grounds. If that was the case, I’d have to resort to stalking her, which wasn’t my favourite pastime. People stalked me, if anything. Girls getting me alone in dark corners…yeah, I enjoyed that version of stalking a lot. Although…stalking Aria could be fun. Another way to fuck with her.

I made a mental note to explore that thought later as I crouched down to search under her bed. Hitting the torch button on my phone, I swung the light around, my gaze catching on a shoebox in the far corner of the dark space.

Two minutes later, the shoebox lay discarded next to me, and I was examining the contents of the metal box.

When I lifted out the leather journal, examining the symbol and lettering on the front, I frowned. I’d seen this somewhere before, but I couldn’t remember where. And that ring…I’d definitely seen that somewhere. 

Then I opened the journal, and I remembered.

INTERLUDE

With the cloak safely stowed away in the back of their wardrobe, the student made their way through the quiet corridors of Hatherley Hall, quickly and silently, alert for any noises that would result in discovery.

Entering the wing where the Epicurus house students had their dorms, the student glanced around again and then curled their fingers around the door handle, easing it open.

The room was shrouded in darkness, and they waited for a moment, allowing their eyes time to adjust. Four beds. Four sleeping bodies. It was imperative that the missive was delivered to the correct recipient, undiscovered by the other students in the room.

The student stepped across the threshold on silent feet, remaining undetected as they reached the desk belonging to their target. A pile of heavy textbooks lay next to a notebook on the worn wooden surface, and after a moment’s thought, the student slid the parchment inside the notebook, where it would be easily discovered by the recipient.

The task was complete. Now, all they had to do was wait.

10

ARIA

Istopped dead, my mouth falling open for a few agonising seconds before I snapped it shut.

Tristan Chamberlain-Smith, in the literal flesh. Barefoot, in a pair of loose, low-slung grey joggers, his torso bare, roughly towelling his hair dry as he strolled into his bedroom from his en suite.

His bedroom.

Where I was.

Shit.

I dived for the floor behind his huge bed, my heart pounding and my mind racing. I’d thought he was going to be out somewhere with Roman. I was positive that was what Knox had said. How was I supposed to investigate now?

Peering around the edge of the bed, I watched as Tristan crossed to the sliding doors that led to his dressing room. I deliberately averted my gaze when I realised I was noticing the ripple of his muscles. I wanted to throw up inside my mouth.

He didn’t appear to be putting on more clothes, either, reappearing a few moments later with his phone clasped in his hand. As he dropped onto his bed, I flattened myself against the floor, holding my breath. I should never have come in here. I didn’t even know why I’d come in here, really. 

Okay, that was a lie.

Maybe it was because I wanted to know if Tristan had any information on what I’d discovered. If he’d been hiding information about my family from me all this time…

I sucked in a shuddering breath, clamping my hand over my mouth instantly to hide any noise I might accidentally make. As much as I hated to admit it, to know he’d hidden this from me would hurt so much. It was stupid of me to think that way because he owed me nothing, and I didn’t really even know anything about the situation other than what I’d gleaned from the notebook. 

Even so. My brain was not rational. Was anyone’s?

I wasn’t sure how long I lay there, breathing in a million dust mites while Tristan relaxed on his luxurious bed, but eventually, he sighed loudly and then rolled off the bed. From my restricted viewpoint, I could see his feet as he padded over to his dressing room.

The second his feet disappeared from view, I ran for it.

That was my plan, anyway.

A hand shot out and yanked me backwards into a hard chest.

A hard, bare chest.

“What are you doing sneaking around my room, little scorpion?”

Oh, shit.

“Tristan! My favourite godbrother.” I leaned back against him, easily ignoring the solid warmth of his body pressed against my back because my heart was pounding so hard with sudden panic I was surprised it wasn’t audible. “What a coincidence. I was just coming to find you—your iPad.”

“Mmm, yeah, because it would make so much sense for me to hide it under my bed instead of in my desk drawer, where I always keep it.”

“How would I know where you keep it? It’s not like I’m a frequent visitor to your bedroom.”

His lips brushed over my ear. “You’d like to be, though. Don’t worry. You get to be the special one today. I prefer to keep my extracurricular companions well away from dear Mummy and Daddy. You don’t need to concern your pretty little head with thoughts of just how many girls have enjoyed the pleasure of my company in my childhood bedroom.”

“You’re disgusting.” I ripped myself away from him, spinning around to glare at his smug, amused face. He should have been angry that I’d been snooping around his room, but he either had nothing to hide or was arrogant enough to think I wouldn’t be able to find whatever was hidden.

“Disgusting?” One brow arched. “Suuuure. Why are you all out of breath, then? Why are your nipples hard enough to cut glass?”

My gaze instantly shot downwards, my hands flying to my chest without a conscious thought. “They are not!”

He smirked at me. “They are. It’s okay to be turned on by me, baby. We both know I’m hot.”

I swept my gaze down his body, stopping at the bulge in his joggers that was definitely bigger than it had been earlier, not that I’d been purposely looking or anything. “Seems like you’re the one who’s turned on.”

“Don’t take it personally.”

“Believe me, I won’t,” I hissed, spinning on my heel. His laughter followed me down the hallway to my own bedroom, where I slumped back on my huge bed with a sigh. Maybe it had been a mistake to come to the Smith-Chamberlain mansion for the weekend. It wasn’t something I usually did, and my godparents had been visibly shocked when I’d shown up at the gates earlier, having hitched a lift with Knox and Elena, who were going back to his family house for the weekend.

But this notebook I’d found…the names inside…the strange words…I had to know more. Especially after I’d discovered the missing pages.

At first, I hadn’t noticed anything wrong during my cursory flip through, but then when I’d taken a closer look, I’d noticed the tear lines where several pages had been removed, right after the list of names.

It was the unknown that had drawn me here this weekend.

My great-uncle had been on that list, and I wanted to know why. Why did his name have a question mark next to it? Who were the other people on the list that I didn’t recognise the names of? What had been written on those missing pages? Why was the book hidden under the floorboards in the bell tower?

My knowledge of my great-uncle was minimal. He’d been my grandmother’s twin brother. She refused to speak about him, and all I knew was that he’d passed away in a tragic accident long before I was born. I didn’t know how he’d died, and I didn’t even know where he was buried. Maybe I should have asked more about him when I was younger, but he’d only been mentioned a few times, and I didn’t want to hurt my grandma by bringing up something that was obviously painful for her.

So that was the main reason I was here. Tristan’s grandfather had been on that list of names, so if anyone was likely to know something about my family history, it was Tristan’s family. 

“We should do this more often, darling.” Jane Smith-Chamberlain rolled her head to the side to look at her husband, a little tipsy after several gins following dinner. She placed her Waterford crystal glass down on the mahogany side table before raising her hand. “Lawrence! Another gin.”

“We should,” Gregory agreed. He was staring into the fire, smoking—and why my godparents had a fire lit during what was possibly the warmest weekend of the year so far, I had no idea. Maybe they liked the aesthetic. I screwed up my face, trying not to breathe in the smoke. Weed was one thing, but these cigars were another. And the “smoking room” where we currently were was permeated by the smell. Still, it was nice in a way that Tristan’s parents wanted us to all spend time together.

“I have a vision of the future.” My godmother waved her hand in the air theatrically. “Tristan, with his lovely wife and children, in residence in the east wing. Aria…joining us with her family for an intimate dinner party. All of us together as one happy family.”

I could feel Tristan’s eyes on the side of my face, but I didn’t turn to look at him. This was the opening I needed.

“Speaking of family⁠—”

“Oh, Aria. I’ve been thinking of drawing up a list of prospects for you. Your family name may be an issue, but I’m positive I can find a good match for you.”

“Um. Thank you.”

“Mother. Aria doesn’t need you to draw her up a list of prospects. I’m sure she can find someone on her own.” Tristan’s voice was harsh, and his mother startled, blinking rapidly before raising her refilled glass of gin.

“Of course she can, but as her godmother, I have a responsibility to make sure she has the best possible chances in life. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t be able to find a man of good standing with our connections. A future lawyer, perhaps. Oh, Maria mentioned Tallulah has a son⁠—”

“Mother,” Tristan growled.

“Tristan. Don’t speak to your mother with that tone of voice. Have you put any thought to your own prospects? Lady Whitstable seemed very keen at the last ball we attended. Have you followed that up?” Tristan’s dad gave him a pointed look.

Tristan smirked. “Yeah, she was keen on my dick,” he said under his breath. “We’ve been in touch,” he said more loudly, and his dad nodded.

“Good.” He didn’t appear to realise that Tristan was clearly lying through his teeth.

I cleared my throat. “All this talk of family has made me curious. Um, Gregory, your dad was at school with my great-uncle, weren’t you? Is there anything you can tell me about him?”

The silence that instantly fell was thick and suffocating. When one of the logs in the fireplace popped, Jane flinched. Gregory stared into the fireplace, unseeing, a muscle ticking in his jaw. 

Eventually, he spoke. “I’m afraid I don’t have much to tell you. He and my father moved in different circles, so as far as I’m aware, they didn’t interact.”

“Oh. I suppose that makes sense. Did he ever mention him? Even something small?” My voice grew quiet. “I don’t know anything about him, and I-I’d like to know more about my family.”

My godfather placed his cigar in the ashtray, rubbing at his mouth. “He liked to row. Never made it onto the rowing team, though. You…you must understand, Aria. In their day, scholarship students were looked down upon. Even those who didn’t have the right family name… Well, he had two strikes against him from the beginning.”

“That’s still the same now,” I muttered, and it was, in a way. We still had the elite, led by the three gods, and two of those three had been designated as gods purely because of their family names. Although…I guessed the elite wasn’t quite so discriminatory these days. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know much else. He…he was very studious. Tutored one or two of the students, I believe. I’m afraid I can’t tell you more than that. As I said, they moved in different circles, and my father wouldn’t have interacted with him much.”

“Who did he tutor?”

“I don’t know.” He reached over, patting my knee. “I’m sorry, Aria. I wish I had more to tell you, but perhaps it’s best that the past remains in the past.”

“I agree.” Jane raised her glass again. “The past should remain in the past. It doesn’t do any good to look back on things that can’t be changed. Look forward to your bright future instead.” 

Defeated, I slumped back in my seat, ignoring Tristan’s frown.

11

TRISTAN

“Did we have to meet here? You know I hate being around rich, pretentious assholes.” Roman gave the Nottswood Golf & Country Club terrace a sweeping, disdainful look as he took a seat at the table I’d reserved for us. 

“Says the rich, pretentious asshole whose two best friends are also rich, pretentious assholes,” Knox drawled, and Roman gave him the finger.

“Okay. Maybe you have a point. Whatever. Why are we here?”

I sat back in my seat, eyeing my two best friends from behind my aviators. “We’re here because I found something, and I wondered if either of you could shed some light on it. Ro, probably not so much you—no offence—but your girlfriend might have some information. Although…I think it would be best if you could ask her discreetly and keep it to yourselves for now. I don’t want Aria getting wind of it. She’ll just give me shit, and she’s already enough of a pain in my ass.”

“I have no fucking clue what you just said. You want me to ask my girlfriend what?”

Knox drummed his fingers on the table. “Explain.”

As quickly and succinctly as I could, I told them about the box, and where I’d found it, and Aria’s questions last night.

When I was finished, Knox raised a brow. “You think this is suspicious? She probably just wants to find out more about her family.”

“Yeah, but why was the box hidden under the floorboards?” Roman mused. “What was in the journal?”

“Oh, yeah.” I’d forgotten I’d taken photos. “Here. Look at these.”

The two of them studied the images, their heads bent together. 

Roman traced his finger across the words written beneath the scales on the journal’s cover. “What does this mean? In nomine iustitiae, omnia iustificata?”

“My Latin is rusty, but according to Google, it roughly translates as something like ‘in the name of justice, all things are justified.’ I’m guessing that’s what the scales are for.”

“Your Latin is rusty.” Roman rolled his eyes, and this time, I gave him the finger. He smirked at me. “So what is this? Some kind of secret society shit?”

“What?” I stared at him. Okay, the thought had crossed my mind when I’d found the box…but surely if there was a secret society, I’d know about it. My grandfather would have told my dad, who would have told me. “What makes you say that?”

“The Latin motto. The names. The secretive location. Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yeah, now you mention it, that has to be it,” Knox agreed. “The ring with the crest, too. Don’t secret societies live for that kind of shit?”

“I didn’t know our school had a secret society,” I began, and Knox shook his head.

“It doesn’t. We’d know about it otherwise. We’d be running the whole fucking thing. But it looks like it did at one point. Want me to talk to my dad? See if he knows anything? If the names of both of our grandfathers are on this list, then the odds are high. Are you going to ask your dad about it?”

“I don’t know. He was acting a bit weird when Aria was asking questions last night. I don’t know if he knew something and didn’t want to say or if he just felt uncomfortable bringing up her past since her great-uncle died or whatever, but he didn’t have much to say. I might have to cut out the middleman and pay a visit to my grandfather, and that’s something I’d rather not do.” My grandfather officially had his own wing in the family mansion, but he unofficially lived with my uncle in a sprawling Cotswolds manor house. Every time I saw him, he grilled me on my future plans, my grades, how I needed to improve shit for my future prospects…it was fucking exhausting. “That ring, though. I know he has one the same. I remember seeing him wearing it.”

Knox’s brows pulled together. “Yeah. This whole thing is weird. I’ll speak to my dad. I want to know what this is all about, too. In all the stories he told me about school when I was growing up, he never mentioned a secret society, but surely my grandfather would’ve told him something.”

“You could⁠—”

I never discovered what Roman had been about to say because his phone buzzed, and he snatched it up with a wide, dopey-as-fuck grin on his face. I saw his girlfriend’s picture appear on the screen, and I shook my head. 

“Whipped.”

Knox snorted. “I can’t wait to see you in a relationship.” He paused. “You’d better get on with that. I wanna see it before we all go our separate ways.”

Roman glanced up from his phone, his eyes widening. “Fuck that. Even if we all end up in different places, we’re still gonna see each other.”

Pushing my sunglasses up to the top of my head, I looked between my two best friends, closer to me than brothers. Blood didn’t define family. These two were my ride or dies. “Yeah. We’re family. Wherever we go and whoever we’re with, that’s not gonna change.”

Knox held up his fist. “Agreed.” We bumped fists, then did the same with Roman. 

Settling back in my chair, I steered the conversation back to Roman’s original comment. “Be prepared for disappointment because you’re not gonna see me in a relationship for a long time. I have plans once we leave Hatherley Hall. Sweden, Denmark, Germany⁠—”

“You’re planning on spending your summer fucking your way around Europe?” Knox smirked at Roman, the two of them exchanging a glance I wasn’t sure I liked.

“So what if I am? You two would’ve jumped at the chance of joining me if it wasn’t for Elena and Quinn.” I couldn’t help the note of bitterness that crept into my tone. Don’t get me wrong, I was genuinely happy for them. It was just more fun to do things with my friends, and I couldn’t exactly bring them with me now.

Knox cleared his throat. “Tristan. Say the word, and you know we’ll come with you. Elena and Quinn, too, if you’re worried about leaving us to our own devices while you go off and charm all the single women. Or we’ll come without them. I know for a fact our girls would understand. You’re our best mate. We’re not going to ditch you just because we’re in relationships.”

“Yeah. What he said.” Roman jerked his thumb in Knox’s direction. “We stick together, no matter what. End of discussion.”

I sighed. “Yeah. Thanks. I know. It’s just…” Rubbing my brow, I trailed off, unable to articulate my thoughts.

Why the fuck was I getting so melancholy about this, anyway? It wasn’t like I wanted what they had. My life was fucking perfect just the way it was.

“I think we need an extra lacrosse practice this week.” Taking mercy on me, Knox held up three fingers before bringing his hand down on the table with a smack. “Burford have won their last three games in a row, and we need to end their streak.”

Thank fuck for my mind-reading friends. I jumped on the change of subject with enthusiasm. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. I’m gonna try Link on the other side and bring in Ty. They’ve got a strong left side, and I want to make sure our defence is solid.” Grabbing my phone from the table, I scrolled to my video folder. “That reminds me. I bribed one of the students to take this footage of their training session. Watch this.”

Roman laughed. “Bribed with money or with your dick?” 

“My dick. Win-win for us both. I left her satisfied, she—okay, I was satisfied, too, and I got the footage, so I came out of it better off. But she gets bragging rights.”

“Don’t get caught with this on your phone,” Knox said, and I raised my brows. Since when had he become such a good little law-abiding citizen?

“It’s not illegal to film their practices. We could go there and watch them if we wanted to.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry. I think I’m still on edge after everything that happened with Ro. I don’t wanna get him into trouble.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Roman assured him. “Quinn’s parents love me now. And I’m not going to do anything to jeopardise my relationship with her.”

Fuck. My friends had changed so much. At the beginning of the school year, they’d been like me. Eighteen, single, ready to make the most of our final year as the gods of Hatherley Hall. Now, it felt like they’d moved on, and I’d been left behind. I didn’t get it. I had everything I wanted. So why did they seem happier than me? I didn’t buy into all that shit that relationships completed you or whatever. Fuck knows, my uncle was permanently single, and he had a great life. I’d grown up listening to his stories, and he’d always been a bit of an idol to me, I guessed. He didn’t need anyone else in his life, and neither did I.

I drained the rest of my glass. “Want to order food? Or a round at the driving range?”

Roman stood, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. “The driving range. Let’s make it a competition. The loser pays for lunch, preferably somewhere that isn’t here. Let’s go.”

12

ARIA

The grave was unremarkable. One of many headstones in this small churchyard. John William Scott. I hadn’t even realised he’d been buried here, in a far corner, away from where my parents had a shared headstone. The parents I’d never known.

There had been so much loss in my grandparents’ lives. I’d been hesitant to even bring up my great-uncle with them, but after my fruitless conversation with Tristan’s parents, I’d bitten the bullet and made a call. My official story was that I was trying to piece together my family tree, and while my grandma hadn’t given me much information, I now knew the location of my great-uncle’s gravestone.

Gone at seventeen. A tragic accident during a storm. I had no further details because my grandmother still found it too painful to talk about, even after all these years. Now I was standing in front of his grave, though, I could piece together the dates. He would have been partway through the first term of his final year at Hatherley Hall.

How had he died, and why had his name been in that book?

I sighed, tracing my fingers across his name before I rose from my crouch, picking my way across the churchyard so I could pay a visit to my parents.

“Aria. Let’s not pretend that you’re not here for the same reason as me.”

I spun around, my heart pounding. Tristan was in the doorway of the darkened kitchen, leaning on the door frame with his arms folded across his chest. His completely bare chest. 

Was he allergic to T-shirts or something?

“What do you mean?” I gripped my spoon tightly, holding it up in front of me like a shield.

He pushed off the wall, prowling towards me, his blue eyes glittering in the light from the cooker hood, and I swallowed. I was barefoot, in skimpy pyjama shorts and a cami top, and it was just the two of us here. Tristan’s parents were out for the night with Knox’s parents at some charity thing, the staff were…wherever they went at night, and my godbrother was looking at me like I was his next midnight snack.

No he isn’t, Aria. He’s just⁠—

Reaching me, he swiped the spoon out of my hand, jamming it into the open tub of caramel ice cream on the kitchen island. He scooped up a small heap of creamy caramel and lifted it to my lips.

“Open up, little scorpion.”

I found my mouth opening before I could really even process what was happening.

“Good girl. You need sweetening up,” he murmured before taking his own heaped spoonful and shovelling it into his mouth. “Delicious.”

I swallowed my ice cream and mustered up a glare. It was more difficult than usual, here, late at night, alone in the quiet kitchen. It brought back unwanted memories. Good memories of us as innocent eight-year-old kids, sneaking downstairs for midnight snacks when everyone was asleep. “You’re the one who needs sweetening up.”

“Probably.” He grinned at me without malice, and my heart skipped a beat. “Now, are you ready to discuss why you’re here? Because we both know why, but I want to hear you admit it.”

My heart skipped another beat for a whole different reason. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Hmm.” He scooped out more ice cream, pressing the cold tip of the spoon to my lips. I opened my mouth again. Why was I letting him feed me? “We’re going to do this the hard way, are we?”

I needed to get some of the power back. Snatching the spoon from his grip, I placed it down on the island and then dipped my finger in the ice cream. Tristan’s darkened gaze tracked my finger as I brought it to my lips, swirling my tongue around it.

“Mmmm.”

His hand went down to his shorts, and a jolt of heat went through me when I realised he was adjusting himself.

“You’re playing with fire, baby.” Wrapping his hand around my wrist, he pulled my finger away from my mouth. He dipped his own finger in the ice cream. When he unexpectedly smeared the ice cream across my lips, I gasped.

“Lick,” he commanded, and I did. It was like I was in a trance. I licked every bit of ice cream from my lips, and when he brought his finger back up again, dripping with creamy caramel, and told me to suck, I did that, too.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, adjusting himself again. I could see his chest rising and falling, and I wanted—I wanted⁠—

My eyes widened, and I panicked. I bit down on his finger.

“Fucking hell!” This time, it was a cry of surprise as he yanked his hand away from me. “What was that for?”

“I hate you,” I ground out.

“Yeah, I fucking hate you, too,” he growled, and I lunged for him.

He caught me, lifting me into his arms, and rapidly walked me backwards until my back hit the fridge. 

There was a split second when our eyes met, and then his mouth came down on mine.

He kissed me hard, devouring me with his mouth, and I gave it right back to him, digging my nails into his shoulders as our mouths met again and again, tongues sliding together, panting into each other’s mouths, in what was the messiest, most frantic kiss of my life.

The hottest kiss of my life.

“Fuck,” he groaned, palming my ass, his mouth going to my throat, where he sucked, hard.

I gripped a handful of his hair, yanking his head back. “Don’t mark me.” Bloody hell, what was happening to my voice? I sounded like I’d been fucked already.

Already?

His eyes met mine, his pupils blown wide. His lips curved into a smirk. “Feel free to mark me up, little scorpion. I want to feel your sting and see the reminder tomorrow.”

I hated him so much. Digging my nails into the muscles of his back, I scraped my teeth across his jaw, and he shivered.

“Fuck, yeah. I didn’t think I was into violent sex, but you’re making me reconsider.”

“This isn’t sex,” I hissed between biting and kissing his jaw.

“Not yet, but it will be.” He thrust upwards, letting me feel just how hard he was. “I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t even think anymore, and maybe then you’ll stop being so evasive.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s the plan.” He shifted his grip on me. “Hold on.”

I hated the way he carried me so effortlessly, his muscles flexing as he stalked through the mansion and up the wide staircase to his bedroom. Bypassing the bed, he lowered me to the floor in front of his desk, holding on to me while I found my balance. As I glared up at him, he grinned at me, shark-like, flashing all his teeth.

“I’m gonna bend you over this desk and fuck you now. Do you have a problem with that?”

I stared at him. If I said I didn’t want to do this or left, I knew he’d leave me alone. Tristan never needed to chase anyone. People came to him.

I didn’t want to become one of his girls. This was going against everything I stood for. But then again, he was here, and he wanted me. And there was no denying the effect he had on my body. What was a little hate sex with your godbrother in the grand scheme of things?

I licked my lips and sealed my fate.

“No, I don’t have a problem with that. If you think you can satisfy me.”

“Satisfy you?” He came closer, pressing his body right up against mine. He lowered his head to my ear. “Baby, I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

13

TRISTAN

“I’m going to fucking ruin you.” The second I made that promise, she froze against me, a gasp falling from her throat. Yeah, we both knew I meant every word I’d said. We’d both been pushed to our breaking point, and now, we had to pay the price.

And what a fucking price it was. I spun her around, my hand going to her throat. She’d warned me not to mark her up, but now my fingers were curling around her neck, her pulse beating wildly beneath my hand, she was silent. 

Sometimes it felt like I knew my little scorpion better than she knew herself.

I squeezed, and she stifled a breathy moan.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” I murmured. She immediately turned vicious, scraping her nails across the back of my hand, but she still made no attempt to dislodge my grip. My cock was so fucking hard. I hated it and loved it at the same time. This girl drove me fucking crazy, and if she even knew the kind of power she really had… 

I’d never let her find out.

“You’re not seeing me naked,” she hissed, and my grip on her tightened, making her gasp. She wriggled against me, making my dick jerk, precum already dampening the front of my shorts. Fucking ridiculous. No one else had this same effect on me, and I didn’t like that at all.

My free hand slid underneath her silky cami. “If you’re saying that to get me to beg, it won’t work.”

“You’ll beg.”

I laughed as I trailed my fingers up her stomach. She swallowed, and I released my grip on her throat to sweep her hair away from the side of her neck so I could mark her with my mouth. 

“I’m not gonna beg,” I murmured, kissing over her pulse point before sucking hard. “Mmm. You look so pretty with my marks on you.”

“I told you not to mark me.” She bucked against me, but I held her in place, sliding my palm higher onto her left breast.

“Fucking perfect handful,” I rasped against her skin, my other hand going to her right breast. I palmed her delicious tits, loving the way they fit so perfectly into my hands. And what I loved even more was her response. Finally, she’d stopped answering back, and I wasn’t sure if she was aware of what she was doing, but she was reaching up, her fingers sliding into my hair as she held my head in place. 

“Tristan,” she breathed and then stiffened against me as if she’d just realised what she’d said.

“Yeah, baby. Say my name.” Circling her nipples, I kissed up her throat to her ear. “Remember who’s giving you this pleasure.”

“You arrogant⁠—”

I clamped my teeth down on the shell of her ear, and she ripped herself away from me, spinning around to face me, practically spitting fire. “I hate you so much,” she snarled, and why was that so fucking hot?

“Hate you more.” I blew her a kiss, slipping my hand inside my shorts to curl my fingers around my cock. I groaned.

“You disgust me.” Her words were lost in my mouth because somehow, we were kissing again, and I never wanted it to end. She yanked my shorts down and then tore herself away again, leaving my head spinning and my cock raging. We stared at one another, breathing hard, and then her gaze flicked down to my erection. Her pupils were blown wide open, and they seemed to widen even further when she took in just how hard I was for her.

“Aria.”

“Beg.”

We glared at one another, neither of us willing to be the one to back down.

Stroking my dick, I spoke her name again. “Aria.”

“Fucking beg. For once in your life.”

I gritted my teeth. “Please.”

Surprise flashed in her gaze, but she wasn’t as surprised as me. Tristan Smith-Chamberlain did not fucking beg for anything. How that word had come out so easily, I had no clue, and I didn’t like it.

I forgot all about how pissed off I was when she pulled off her cami and shorts, leaving her body bared to me. Holy fuck, this girl was a literal wet dream come true. A goddess to be fucking worshipped.

If she didn’t have such a painful sting.

“Fuck, little scorpion,” I murmured, forgetting all the reasons why this was possibly the worst idea I’d ever had. Stepping up to her, I spun her around, pressing my palm on her lower back until she got the hint and bent over, curling her fingers around the edge of my desk. I eyed her for a moment, enjoying the view as I rolled on the condom I’d grabbed from my desk drawer before I thought about the logistics. Making my mind up, I scooped her into my arms before she could say anything, carrying her over to my chaise longue. I deposited her on it on her hands and knees and then took up my position behind her, my thumbs caressing her hips. Now, she was at the perfect height for me to fuck her hard and fast.

“Get on with it if you think your average dick can satisfy⁠—”

I thrust inside her tight little pussy with a swift, calculated movement. She was so fucking wet the slide was easy, despite the fact that she was so tight around my cock.

“You were saying?” I thrust again, and again, and fucking finally, she moaned for real, without even trying to stifle it. I had a weird urge to smack her ass, which I didn’t normally do, but fuck it, you only lived once, and this would never happen again. Releasing her hip, I brought my hand down on her ass cheek, making her cry out.

“Again.”

I smiled, bringing my hand down again, taking in the red handprint in satisfaction. Her moans were so fucking hot, and the way she was pushing back into me and squeezing her pussy around my dick…I was going to come before her at that rate. 

That was something I wasn’t going to allow to happen, not least because I’d never hear the end of it. I gave her one last smack because I now knew she liked it, and it was satisfying as fuck to see my marks on her. Then I reached around to her clit, working my fingers over it as I continued fucking her. 

She cried out, her whole body stiffening, and then she was coming, convulsing around my dick, and I couldn’t have stopped my own orgasm if I’d tried. My dick pulsed as I curled over her, shooting my release inside the condom.

Sucking in deep lungfuls of air as I tried to regain my equilibrium, I pulled out, dealing with the condom while Aria stumbled over to her clothes, tugging them on with shaking hands. When I looked up again, she threw my shorts at me.

“Get dressed,” she snapped.

Okay… Note to self: sex does not improve Aria’s disposition. I pulled on my shorts anyway because if we were going to go for another round of sniping at each other, I didn’t really want to be doing it with my dick hanging out.

Once my shorts were on, I cornered her in front of my desk, caging her in with my arms. “Are you gonna admit that my dick isn’t average?”

She rolled her eyes. “Why? Feeling insecure and need some validation?”

“No.” I dipped my head, but she pushed my face away before I could kiss her. Fucking rude, but it was for the best. I didn’t even want to kiss her again. Removing her hand from my face, I continued. “I just want you to admit the truth.”

“Fine. You have a big dick.” Bringing her hands together in a mocking slow clap, she gave me a bright, fake smile. “Congratulations for something you had no say in.”

I bit back a grin, stepping back so I could lower myself into a theatrical bow. “Thank you very much.”

“Dickhead,” she muttered, but I could see the corners of her mouth curving upwards. I took advantage of her temporary good mood to cage her in again.

“Are you gonna admit that we’re both here for the same reason? If we pool our resources, maybe we can find the answers we both want.”

Her brows pulled together, and she shook her head. “No. Fuck that.”

For fuck’s sake. I straightened up, huffing out a frustrated breath. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Rubbing my hand across my face, I turned away from her. “This was a stupid idea.”

Her hand on my wrist stopped me. “I… Look, I didn’t mean— Never mind. Okay. But I want you to swear on my parents’ graves that you’re not planning to fuck me over or something.”

I stared at her. “Why? Why would I do that? What possible reason would I have? And why would I even want to? I want to know what the fuck that journal is all about just as much as you do. My grandfather’s name’s in there, too, and I swear to you right now that I knew nothing about this. I know just as much as you do.”

She sighed, her lashes sweeping down to hide her gaze. Her cheeks were pink, but I wasn’t sure if that was from this conversation or an aftereffect of the sex. Shit, we’d had sex. What the fuck had possessed me? Or her, for that matter? I’d promised myself I’d never go there.

It could never happen again.

“Yeah,” she said in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “Sorry. It’s not that I think you’d do anything bad. Not really. I’m just…paranoid. And…well, it’s you.” 

I laughed as she shrugged her shoulders. “Fair enough. Look, why don’t we call a temporary truce while we find out the story behind this journal? No antagonising each other. We work together.”

“And no fucking,” she added. My jaw clenched, but I nodded. A one-off hate fuck was one thing, but to repeat it would be asking for trouble. Not to mention, I’d only just been telling myself it couldn’t happen again.

I held out my hand, and she eyed me suspiciously but shook it. I ignored how good her much smaller hand felt in mine, how although she was so petite, she was so fucking fiery she could probably take on almost anyone and come out on top.

“Okay. In the interests of transparency, I told Knox and Roman about the box today. Knox is gonna speak to his dad because his grandfather was on that list, and I asked Roman if he’d speak to Quinn to see if her parents know anything.”

“Right.” Her mouth flattened, but after a moment, she relaxed. “I guess it makes sense that they know. I trust them.”

The implication that she trusted my friends but not me shouldn’t have stung, but it did. 

“We might want to bring Elena up to speed with everything. I don’t want to ask Knox to lie to her,” I said. Her gaze flew to mine, and I turned away again, crossing to my bedside table to pick up my phone. Letting Aria see that she’d affected me would be handing her ammunition, and she already had enough of that.

“Tristan.”

“What.” This truce was going to be impossible to keep.

“We need to find out about those missing pages.”

What missing pages?

14

ARIA

Quinn and Elena exchanged glances. “Aria,” Quinn said quietly. “What’s the matter? You know you can speak to us, and we won’t betray your trust.”

I sighed, staring out of the tall lead-paned window next to me, watching the raindrops chase each other down the glass. The soft patter of the rain filled our quiet corner of the library, soothing my nerves somewhat. “It’s Tristan.”

Elena’s brows rose. “What has he done? You’re normally never so…down.”

Burying my face in my hands, I mumbled, “I slept with him.”

Identical shocked gasps came from them both, and I would have smiled if the situation wasn’t so dire. 

“I’m surprised, but I’m also not surprised. Now I know why you wouldn’t tell me who gave you those marks on your throat,” Quinn said finally, and I lifted my head to glare at her. Her humour instantly died away when she saw the misery that was no doubt written all over my face.

“It—it was supposed to be hate sex. Just a thing to get it out of our systems—I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just…it’s messed everything up because I remembered, and it hurts.” To my horror, my voice cracked on the last word, and Quinn and Elena moved closer instantly. Quinn gripped my hand while Elena gently squeezed my shoulder.

“Why does it hurt?” Quinn asked softly. “Tell us. It’s not good to keep it bottled up.”

My vision was going blurry, and I hated Tristan even more for having this effect on me. This wasn’t who I was. I didn’t cry over boys, especially not arrogant ones who I meant nothing to.

I went to wipe at my eyes, but Elena pulled my hand back. “Wait. You’ll smear your eyeliner.” She fished a tissue out of her bag and handed it to me. 

When I’d composed myself as much as I could, I began. “I don’t know if either of you know this, but Tristan’s parents are my godparents.”

They both gasped again, visibly shocked, but after a second, Quinn’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute. Now I think about it, I do remember Knox or maybe even Tristan mentioning something about that years ago. I’d completely forgotten until you said because neither of you ever bring it up.”

Quickly nodding, I rushed to continue before they could start asking me questions. I needed to get through this as quickly as possible and then hopefully never speak of it again.

“We both like to pretend they’re not my godparents. You know, since we prefer to be in each other’s vicinity as little as possible. Anyway. Long story short, I stayed with his family one summer when we were eight and my grandma was in hospital with pneumonia. Tristan and I became…close, I guess. After that summer, I only saw his parents intermittently, but I stayed friends with Tristan. Then when he hit puberty, it was like he had a complete personality transplant overnight. He was—” I paused, trying to articulate my thoughts. “—a little teenage version of how he is now, I guess. There was no room for me, not that I would have wanted there to be, because I didn’t like the arrogant, superficial person he’d turned into.”

It was safer to hate him. That way, I couldn’t get hurt again. I couldn’t allow myself to think about any other alternative. Even though I could barely admit it to myself, the truth was it had hurt me so badly when he just stopped talking to me all those years ago. When he showed me I meant nothing to him. 

Quinn nodded. “I can see how that must’ve been difficult. Did you ever speak to him about it?”

“Did his parents ever say anything?” Elena added.

“We stopped speaking unless it was to insult each other. His parents…no. Like I said, I only ever saw them intermittently after that summer. They’re nice enough people, but they’ve always made it clear that they pity me, and I hate that. It’s like they feel a sense of obligation as my godparents, so they offer to pay for things for me or whatever, even though I have the money my parents left me to pay my way through school. Now, my godmother’s even offering to set me up with people. She wants to arrange a good match for me for my future.”

Elena’s lip curled. “Rich people.”

“Yeah.”

“Not all rich people,” she amended.

“No, not all of them. Anyway, that’s kind of irrelevant to the whole Tristan thing. Even if there was a world in which Tristan wasn’t Tristan and we still got on with each other, we’d never be allowed to have a relationship—” I cut myself off, seeing Quinn’s brows arch. “No, I do not want a relationship with him. Never, ever. My point is that in the world of my godparents, they’re up here, and I’m down here.” I lifted my hands to illustrate my point. “In their eyes, Tristan belongs with someone on the same level as him, and I’m just not quite there. You know, since I don’t have the illustrious pedigree.”

“This is giving me flashbacks to my parents all over again.” Quinn slumped back in her seat with a huff. “We should be able to love who we want to love. End of.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. So you slept with someone who used to be a close friend and who you’ve been at odds with for, what…five years now?”

“Something like that.”

Quinn nodded. “And his parents don’t think you’re suited or whatever. And he makes a habit of sleeping around…although you have your fair share of fun, too.” When I nodded, she smiled at me before delivering a dagger straight to my heart. “And you like him, but you don’t want to like him.”

“What?” I stared at her.

“Aria. You two have so much sexual tension, it’s⁠—”

“—enough to make us all go up in flames,” Elena finished. She seemed to be trying very hard not to smirk, struggling to keep the sympathetic expression on her face.

“Please, no.” I groaned, burying my face in my hands again. They were both so wrong.

“Tristan’s a good guy underneath it all. I know you don’t think so, but he is. Honestly.” Elena rubbed my arm. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make light of your situation. I don’t like that this is upsetting you. But I do agree with Quinn. You like him, and I know a little bit about being attracted to someone you really don’t want to be attracted to. Remember how Knox and I hated each other at the beginning?”

“And how Roman threw me in the lake?” Quinn added. “Believe me, he spent a lot of time making that up to me.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“The details will stay between me and Roman. But hey, you know what? Tristan likes you, too, and I think he’s just as unhappy about it as you are.”

I took my hands away from my face, shaking my head firmly. “There is no possible way. No. Way. Never, ever. What happened was just sex because he was bored, and I was there or whatever. Plus, he was trying to goad me into admitting what I knew about the box. It meant nothing to him and nothing to me.”

Quinn and Elena exchanged glances again, but before they could say anything else, I was saved by Quinn’s phone vibrating across the table. She tapped on the screen, her eyes widening as she took in whatever was written there.

“Aria…listen to this. Roman contacted his cousin—you know, the hacker—to see if he had any information on those other names we didn’t recognise. Four of them were dead ends—they’ve either passed away or don’t live around here anymore. But the other one…he’s your politics professor.”

What? Professor Watkins? “How? It can’t be him. He has a different name.”

“According to Roman, he reverted to his mother’s maiden name when he came of age. Something to do with inheritance and disowning, Roman isn’t sure. He said his cousin couldn’t find out the exact circumstances, but he found the record of the name change.”

“Does Tristan know?” As soon as I asked the question, the bell rang, notifying us that it was time to get to our next classes.

My politics lesson happened to be next. 

“You know,” Tristan said when I slipped into the seat next to him. I nodded briefly before turning away, pulling my books and laptop from my bag. He remained silent as I got everything set up, and I was grateful for it. It gave me a moment to gather myself, to compartmentalise everything, until only two goals remained in my mind. My politics class, and what had happened to my great-uncle. 

The thing currently tying those two goals together was my professor. From what I knew, he was past the average retirement age, but he was passionate about teaching, and I had the feeling he’d stay until he was either forcibly removed or was no longer able to teach. I studied him, taking in the thinning, receding white hair, the lined face and sunken eyes, and I tried to imagine him as a younger man. As a student here.

Tristan’s gaze slid to my throat. I’d been careful to cover the marks he’d given me with make-up after Quinn had immediately spotted them on my return to school, and I’d left my hair down as extra insurance, but he knew exactly where he’d left them.

His thumb stroked across my skin, and I suppressed a shiver. ‘Don’t touch me,” I hissed.

Lowering his hand, he studied the pad of his thumb, his brows pulling together. “Make-up?”

“Obviously. I don’t want anyone to see the evidence of our mistake. Do you?”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. Eventually, he shook his head. “No.”

“Good.” I returned my gaze to my professor, concentrating on taking deep, even breaths to calm myself as I re-compartmentalised everything in my brain.

A thought hit me, and I leaned into Tristan, ignoring the warmth of his body. “Are there any photos of the previous students anywhere in the school?”

He shot me a lazy grin. “Good thinking. I dunno about year group photos, but there’s the gallery with the head students…and we have photos of the winning teams in the sports facilities. I’ll check it out.”

That grin… I shook my head. Focus, Aria. “Your dad said my great-uncle wanted to be on the rowing team but never made it. But if we can find photos of the other students, put names to faces⁠—”

“Miss Harper. Have you finished?”

My eyes rose slowly to see Professor Watkins standing in front of my desk, his arms folded across his chest. When did he get here?

“Sorry. I was just wondering…um…you went to school here, didn’t you, sir?”

“How is this relevant to our group project discussion?”

“I’m sorry. I was just curious. I don’t know much about my family history, and I wondered if you knew my great-uncle at all?”

“I have a question about rumours of a secret society during that time, too,” Tristan cut in. I could have happily throttled him at that moment.

I’d heard the term “ghostly pallor” before but had never really thought about what it meant until that moment. Visibly shaken, our professor took a step back, shaking his head firmly. “You should know better than to listen to rumours, Mr. Smith-Chamberlain.” He completely ignored my question, turning on his heel and striding back up to the front of the classroom.

Tristan nudged my foot beneath the table, and I kicked him back. I saw him glare out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t dare to look at him. Whether it had been my question or Tristan’s that had set our professor on edge, I wasn’t sure. What I did know was that he was watching us both very, very carefully.

I felt my professor’s eyes on us for the rest of the class.

15

TRISTAN

Stripping down to my underwear as quickly as I could, I reached for my lacrosse jersey. Most of my teammates were already outside warming up for practice, and I needed to get a move on before Saunders realised his team captain was missing.

A loud wolf whistle had me spinning around, jersey in hand.

“Who gave you those scratches on your back? A wildcat?”

Scratches? What the fuck? I stared at Tyrell’s smirking face until comprehension hit me.

Not a wildcat. Those were the stings from a scorpion.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I pulled my jersey on and then stepped into my shorts.

“I think I can probably guess.”

He probably could, the fucker. He’d been in the crypts that night, after all.

“Could’ve been any one of a number of people,” I said as I took a seat on the edge of the bench to pull on my boots.

“Only one who’d want to mark you up like that.” He did have a point. No one had ever dared to be as savage with me as Aria Harper was. I grinned, forgetting for a minute that we’d agreed the whole thing had been a mistake, never to be repeated.

Glancing around us to make sure we were alone, I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “You say anything to anyone else…”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’m not the type to spread rumours. I didn’t tell anyone about you kicking me and Harriet out of your fuck dungeon so you could have alone time with Aria, did I?”

I ignored the insinuation that I’d been fucking Aria down there. It was completely untrue. We’d just…delayed the fucking until we were alone in my parents’ mansion.

Fuck’s sake. There went my resolution not to think about that ill-advised series of events that had begun with me taunting her in the kitchen and ended with my cock buried inside her. “It’s not a fuck dungeon.”

He laughed. “Sorry. Aria called it that, and I guess the name stuck. It fits; you can’t deny it.” When he noticed me gritting my teeth, his grin widened, turning shark-like. “Hey, her tits are fucking⁠—”

I had him pressed up against the wall with my arm across his throat before he could complete his sentence.

“Don’t. Fucking. Speak. About. Her,” I ground out, and his brows flew up.

“Okay, okay. Fucking hell. Calm down.”

Stepping back, I shook my arms out and then swiped my gloves from the bench, tugging them over my hands. “Just don’t.”

He huffed out a breath. “It’s not like you to be so possessive over a girl you haven’t even publicly claimed. It’s not me you have a problem with, is it?”

“No. It’s just—it’s nothing. Forget it,” I muttered. “Come on, let’s get out there before Saunders gives us shit for being late for practice.”

There was no way I could respond to his comments without incriminating myself. I had no fucking right to act that way, but when it came to Aria Harper, I couldn’t seem to help myself.

Thank fuck for Saunders and his need to push us as hard as possible to make sure we were prepared for our game against Burford. Every point counted now we were so close to the end of the season, and the teams at the top of the league had so few points separating them. The endless drills left me with no room for any other thoughts. As I completed my sixth lap of the field, my lungs and legs burning and my body dripping with sweat, Saunders blew his whistle and waved me over to the sidelines.

Panting for breath, I bent over, placing my hands on my thighs. When I felt like I could breathe again without risk of dying, I straightened up.

“Cool-down stretches,” Saunders instructed. “Then you’re going to take off your helmet and sit down over there and tell me your plan for switching up the team positions.”

I sank into a lunge. “You’re open to changing it up?”

“Maybe. We’ll do a test run, and I’ll make a decision after that. I’m the coach, so I get the final say, but you’re the one out there on the ground, making it happen.” He paused, giving me a brief, rare smile. “You’re a good captain, and your instincts are usually spot on. If you have an idea that helps us win the league, I’m all ears.”

My grin stretched across my face. “We’re gonna win. I’ve been studying their practices, and I’m confident I know where their weak spots are.”

Throwing a bottle of water to me, he nodded. “Okay. Drink that, and let’s hear your plan.”

16

TRISTAN

“Aria’s here.”

“What?” Shielding my eyes from the bright sun, I scanned the stands where the away team spectators were gathered. It shouldn’t have surprised me, given the fact she’d attended several of Hatherley Hall’s lacrosse games, but this was an away game, which meant effort. We always had a much smaller away crowd, and I couldn’t remember seeing Aria at an away game before. Not that I’d been looking.

My gaze was drawn straight to her, and I growled under my breath, not even realising I’d done it until I heard Knox’s low chuckle next to me.

“Still no love lost between you two even now?”

My head whipped around, my brows flying up as I took in his posture. Deceptively relaxed, with his lacrosse stick dangling from one gloved hand, his other resting on the metal barrier that ran around the edge of the field. It would’ve lulled me into a false sense of security if it hadn’t been for the blatant smirk on his face, clear despite the helmet he’d just jammed on his head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bit out, moving closer. I tossed the ball up and down in my net, my helmet clasped firmly in my other hand. 

“We all heard what happened between you two.”

A heavy arm slung itself across my shoulders. “Are we talking about Tris’ tryst with the girl he pretends to hate?”

I shook Roman’s arm off, shoving him in his side. He stumbled, laughing, before shooting Knox a conspiratorial glance.

“You’re right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped, swiping the lacrosse ball from my scoop and launching it across the field by hand. My two best mates turned to me with identical raised brows.

“Mate, I hate to tell you, but in lacrosse, we use our sticks, not our hands.”

I gave Knox the finger. “Fuck you both. What did you hear?”

“We heard you fucked.” To his credit, Knox glanced around us and lowered his voice before speaking, but I was still pissed off. So Aria had been gossiping about me, had she? No, that wasn’t like her. She’d probably told her closest friends—who just so happened to be in relationships with my closest friends. Even so⁠—

“Our girls didn’t tell us anything, if that’s what you’re about to say,” Roman said. “We’re just good at reading them.”

“They’re too good at reading us,” Knox muttered, and Roman grimaced, giving him a commiserating pat on the back. His gaze turned back to me.

“We saw the marks, too, even though she tried to hide them. If you wanna be subtle about it, maybe don’t go leaving your fingerprints and teeth marks on her throat.”

“Or letting her scratch down your back because we can all see that shit when we’re changing for our games.” Knox smirked, and I gritted my teeth.

“Fuck off. All that evidence is circumstantial. There’s no proof that either of us left those marks on each other. Whatever did or didn’t happen was a mistake, and it’s not gonna happen again. Forget about it. The only thing you two need to focus on is winning this game, okay?” I raised my voice. “That goes for the rest of you. Focus. We’re better than them, and we’re going to win this.”

Cheers went up from my teammates, and I grinned, ducking down to grab my gloves from where I’d thrown them. Pulling them on, I glanced back at the stands. Aria was leaning against the railing, staring at her phone while Elena and Quinn conversed with Katy and her boyfriend Will, my head boy replacement.

Swiping the bundle of fabric from the grass, where it had been lying next to my gloves, I jogged over to the away stands, coming to a stop in front of Aria.

Her gaze snapped to mine, her eyes shooting little stinging daggers at me. My smile widened, despite the fact that my coming over here would reinforce whatever delusional theories Knox and Roman had.

“My good luck charm. It was so nice of you to come.” I blew her a kiss. “I saved this for you. It’s nice and warm from my body heat.”

With that, I threw my lacrosse hoodie at her. She caught it with an automatic reflex, and I didn’t bother waiting for her to start swearing at me or desecrating my hoodie. I jogged away to the centre of the field. Just in time for the Burford team to take up their positions.

From that moment on, I forgot about everything else. I was the captain, and I took my responsibilities seriously. Our Hatherley Hall lacrosse team was the strongest in a long time, and for those of us in our final year, we were determined to go down in the history books. 

“Pass!” I shouted to Ty, who spun, flinging his stick in an arc, sending the ball straight to Roman. The goal was wide open, and Roman was prepared, honed from the hours we’d spent in gruelling practices. He smashed it straight into the back of the net.

The cheers of the away fans registered in the back of my mind as I ran for my teammates, hugging and backslapping them. Then we were back in the game. One goal wasn’t enough to secure a win.

I shouted instructions along with our coach, racing down the field, my brain constantly working overtime to calculate our chances. My teammates were good at working with their instincts, and we scored again less than five minutes later. 

We could do this. The win was within our grasp.

Even when Burford scored, I didn’t falter. A win was the only acceptable outcome, and we were going to do it.

We did. We won, 3-1.

As soon as the game ended, I threw down my lacrosse stick, hugging my teammates, caught up in the euphoria of a win. I barely noticed the Burford team shuffling away, defeated.

When we made it back to the changing rooms, I gave what I hoped was an inspirational speech about how we’d done well and nothing was going to stop us from winning the league. When our coach, Saunders, stepped in to give his own speech, I tuned out, digging through my duffel bag to find my towel. As I began stripping off my sweaty clothes, Knox spoke low in my ear.

“What’s that?”

I followed his gaze to my bag.

Partially obscured by the miscellaneous things filling the interior was an envelope with my name handwritten in block capitals.

A trickle of unease made its way down my spine. “I don’t know,” I murmured, using my foot to push my bag underneath the benches. Knox nodded once and then moved towards Roman, who was deep in conversation with Link over the other side of the changing room, stripped down to his jock. 

With a sigh, I kicked off my own jock and headed for the showers, my towel draped over my arm. I wasn’t going to look at whatever was in that envelope while everyone else was around, and I really needed a shower. I was fucking tired out, sweaty, and muddy. 

By the time I’d showered and changed, most of my teammates had disappeared, taking their places on the minibus that would return them to Hatherley Hall. I’d arrived here in Knox’s SUV, and so I had the luxury of taking my time. I knew Knox wasn’t in any rush. 

When I made it outside, Knox was leaning against the side of his Maserati Levante with his arms wrapped around his girlfriend, his head bent towards hers. Hearing the crunch of my footsteps over the gravel, he raised his head, nodding towards the open back door.

“Aria’s inside.”

I held up my middle finger. “Fuck off.”

Throwing my bag onto the back seat, I climbed inside. Roman beeped his horn from behind us, indicating that he wanted us to move out of the way, and Knox and Elena wasted no time in sliding inside.

“Couldn’t be bothered to drive?” Aria said as soon as I was seated with my bag in between us.

I met Knox’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He smirked at me. “Knox likes to pretend he’s my chauffeur,” I told her.

“Love it,” he agreed, resting one hand on Elena’s thigh as he steered us onto the main road. “Or maybe I love the fact that you two are trapped in a small space together and are forced to interact.” Elena laughed, and Aria huffed. I settled back in my seat, my jaw clenched. My friends were utter wankers sometimes. 

I glanced across at Aria. I purposely hadn’t looked at her when I got in the SUV, but now I did a double take.

She was wearing my lacrosse hoodie.

My head was spinning. The sight of her, swamped by my navy hoodie, with my fucking name written across the back, did things to my dick that I really didn’t appreciate. Did she even realise she was wearing it? What did it mean? Why had I even thrown it to her in the first place?

“Fucking hell,” I muttered. Her gaze flew to mine, her eyes wide, and we stared at each other for one long, charged moment.

“The letter!” I shouted, panicking like a complete dick.

“Did you open it?” Knox said.

“What letter?” Elena asked at the same time.

Not bothering to reply to either of them, I fished the envelope from my duffel and opened it.

I unfolded the piece of paper, staring at the typed message.

Don’t go digging into the past.

Beneath the message was a now familiar symbol. The scales.

“What the hell?” I handed the letter to Aria, my hoodie problem temporarily forgotten, and she scanned it quickly, her eyes growing huge.

“Professor Watkins?”

“It has to be. He’s the only one we asked. I mean, we asked my dad about your great-uncle but not about the secret society.” I glanced up. “Knox, did you ask your parents about the secret society?”

“Yeah. They didn’t know anything, though. Believe me, I can tell when my parents are lying.” He paused. “I think. But they’d have no reason to lie about it.”

“Quinn’s parents didn’t know anything, either,” Elena added. 

“So why the fuck would Professor Watkins start threatening us? There has to be something he wants to keep secret.”

“Obviously.” Aria rolled her eyes at me, but then she sighed. “I guess I’ve got no choice at this point. I’ll have to speak to my grandparents and risk upsetting them by dragging up the past. It’s either that, or we forget about the whole thing.”

I shook my head. “No way. I want to know what’s on those missing pages. It has to be something good if Professor Watkins wants to send us threats over it. Not like he could do anything. He’s not the one with the power in this town.”

“I want to know, too,” Aria admitted. “So I’ll speak to my grandparents. I’ll have to arrange a visit in person. If I speak to them on the phone, I won’t be able to tell if they’re lying or anything.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to speak to my grandfather, too.” I’d have to steel myself to suffer through another interrogation about my future. Although…

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I sent a text to my mother.

Me:

We need to celebrate father’s appointment as mayor. I have an idea if you want to hear it

Surprisingly, I only had to wait a few minutes for her reply.

Mother:

Do tell.

Me:

How about a party at Uncle Jack’s manor house? You know grandfather will want to attend and that way he won’t have a chance to say anything about the drawing room

I was counting on the fact that my mother still held a grudge over my grandfather insulting the décor in our drawing room, which had been redone to her specifications, and therefore, she took it as a personal insult. Most of their parties were held there because it was the biggest room in our house.

Mother:

Don’t tell your father I said so, but that man has dreadful taste. Perhaps we could host it at the manor. It would be a suitable location for a more intimate gathering.

Me:

Exactly what I was thinking. 

Mother:

Leave it to me, darling. I will make preparations.

Me:

OK

That done, I pocketed my phone, smiling to myself. Having a party would give me a buffer, which would hopefully stop my grandfather from interrogating me, and if it seemed like he did know something, I’d have the chance to snoop around.

“Why are you looking so pleased with yourself?”

I glanced up at Aria. Instead of answering her question, I said, “Blue suits you.”

She gasped, her cheeks flushing a deep pink as her honey eyes glittered with anger. Evidently, she had forgotten she was wearing my hoodie. I grinned as she ripped it off as fast as humanly possible, throwing it at me, and laughed outright at the expression of pure loathing she shot in my direction.

“You should feel privileged, Aria,” Knox said. “Tristan doesn’t ever let girls wear his hoodies.”

“Yeah, because I don’t want them getting the wrong idea and thinking they’re my girlfriend.” Silence fell, and I replayed that sentence in my head. “Oh, fuck off! I didn’t mean Aria was my girlfriend. I meant she wouldn’t get the wrong idea because⁠—”

“—we hate each other,” Aria bit out, and I nodded quickly.

“Yeah. See. She knows.”

“I didn’t say anything about girlfriends.” Knox smirked at me in the mirror, and I gave him a warning look, which didn’t deter him at all. No, the fucker that was supposed to be my friend continued running his big mouth. “I just find it interesting how you gave Aria the hoodie and how she decided to wear it. That’s a pretty big statement coming from the two of you.”

“It clouded over, and I got cold. That was it. Nothing more to it. If people want to see things that aren’t there, that’s their problem. I don’t give a fuck what anyone wants to say about me. The golden boy isn’t about to give up his manwhore crown, so his legions of fans are safe, and anyone who knows me knows that he’s the last person on this planet I’d want as a boyfriend.”

Elena twisted in her seat to look at her friend. “Ignore Knox. He’s only trying to wind you up.”

“You did sleep together,” he pointed out. 

“Hate sex is a thing,” Aria muttered, slumping back in her seat. I did my best to ignore the way she’d folded her arms beneath her tits and how the tight black top she was wearing gave me an amazing view of those pretty little curves.

“Yeah. You fucked Elena when you hated her. It happens,” I reminded my best friend, and a thoughtful expression came over his face.

“I don’t know if I did hate her. And I don’t think you two hate each other.”

Up ahead, the tall iron gates of Hatherley Hall came into view. “We’re here,” I said, changing the subject. I was only wasting my breath trying to defend myself. “Drop the girls off, and we’ll go to the sports centre. Saunders wants a debrief.” Shoving my hoodie inside my duffel bag, I zipped it up and then held out my hand to Aria.

“What?”

“The letter.”

She slapped it into my hand, and I carefully folded it and slid it back inside the envelope, tucking it into the side pocket of my duffel.

Why had Professor Watkins given me that letter? What was he trying to hide?

17

ARIA

Iscuffed the toes of my Converse across the gravel as I made my way to my doom. For anyone else, this would be a dream come true. Up ahead, the remaining single god of Hatherley Hall lounged against the side of his matte-black Aston Martin Vanquish, looking every inch the posh rich boy with his crisp white polo shirt tucked into beige chinos with a brown leather belt that matched his loafers, setting off his tan. His blond hair was tamed, swept to the side, and he was wearing a watch that I knew his parents had given him for his sixteenth birthday and had cost as much as a term’s worth of our school fees. 

As I drew closer, I took in the hard set of Tristan’s jaw. Aviators hid his expression from me, but it was easy to tell that he was just as happy about this situation as I was. Everything was moving so fast. When I’d contacted my grandparents after the lacrosse game to arrange to see them, my grandmother had immediately invited me to Sunday lunch. She’d then mentioned she’d heard that I’d been at Tristan’s parents’ mansion the previous weekend, and wouldn’t it be nice if Tristan came for lunch, too? A little while later, I’d received another phone call from her, and now, here we were. A table was booked at the Swan Inn in the Cotswold town of Morten-in-Marsh for twelve thirty, and Tristan and I would both be in attendance.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, maybe it was a good thing that he was coming. He could charm most people, and my grandparents liked him.

When I reached him, he pushed off the car, strolling around to the passenger side. He opened the door and then swept his hand out dramatically.

“Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

“Can you turn it off for one day? Please.”

He straightened up, pushing his sunglasses up on top of his head. Clear blue eyes met mine. “Strictly business. Got it.” Turning on his heel, he strode around to the driver’s side of the car. I felt a flicker of guilt, but I couldn’t deal with our usual sniping today. I was too stressed about seeing my grandparents and bringing up a subject that I knew was upsetting to them.

When he slid inside the car and started up the engine, I stared out of the windscreen, unseeing. Was this really worth it? How badly did I need answers, anyway?

“Hey.” A warm hand slid onto my bare thigh, and I startled, my gaze flying to Tristan’s. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He removed his hand and lowered his sunglasses again, easing down on the accelerator. As the Aston Martin rolled down the long driveway towards the gates, the warmth of his hand remained.

To distract myself from thinking about that, I leaned forwards, tracing my fingertip across the centre console. We needed music to break up this thick silence. I stabbed at the screen, and Tristan batted my hand away.

“Careful. I’ll do it.” He quickly navigated to the music player, not even looking at what he was doing, and soft beats filled the car. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, he glanced over at me before returning his attention to the road. “These speakers are so much better than the ones in my old Subaru.”

“I don’t care.”

“Rude. Just trying to make conversation.”

“I don’t want to talk.” I knew I was being even snappier than usual, and he hadn’t even done anything to deserve my ire, but I couldn’t get rid of the ball of anxiety sitting heavy in my stomach.

He sighed. “I know.”

Neither of us spoke again until we reached the pub.

“That was delicious, Margaret.” Tristan reclined in his seat, patting his abs. “Good choice.”

My grandma smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Hush, now. I simply chose a location I liked. The credit goes to the chef.”

“You’re so wise.” He grinned back at her. “Shall we take a short break and then order dessert?”

We made small talk for a few minutes, and when Tristan pulled my grandfather into a discussion about England’s cricket team, I took my chance to speak to my grandma quietly.

“I was wondering about my great-uncle,” I began, carefully watching her face to make sure I wasn’t upsetting her. “I know…I know it’s difficult to talk about. I guess I’m just curious. He was a student at Hatherley Hall, and I’ve nearly finished my time as a student…”

She sighed, clasping her hands together in her lap. “I suppose I knew you’d be curious about him. I should have spoken about him before. It was just…difficult. John was a wonderful brother, and his passing was extremely painful for me. It was so unexpected, you see.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, dear.” With another sigh, she gave me a tremulous smile. “As you know, we were twins. When we were small children, we were inseparable. It was John’s dream to attend a university, and so together, we worked to attain a scholarship for Hatherley Hall so he could make the best possible connections and have a better chance at attending a prestigious university—something that wouldn’t have been possible if he’d remained at his previous school.”

“And he did it, didn’t he?” I reached out, placing my hand over her clasped ones.

“He did. He wrote to me often, telling me of his happiness. I left school when I was fifteen and began working on the switchboards, sending John what little I could put aside. I could read between the lines, you see. Despite his assurances that all was well, I could sense some discontent. In the summer before his passing, we spoke of it. He had been hoping he could earn a place on the rowing team, but the unfortunate truth was that there were those who saw him as beneath them because of his scholarship status.”

I nodded. That lined up with what Tristan’s dad had told me. 

My grandmother continued to speak, lost in her memories. “He began tutoring another boy, and they became friends, from what I could glean from his letters. In his final letter to me, he spoke of his hopes of being accepted by the elite. Apparently, the boy he’d been tutoring was one of the so-called elite, and he had told John he’d ensure his acceptance into their inner circle.”

“His final letter?” I whispered. I suddenly realised the table had gone quiet, with both Tristan and my grandfather listening intently.

“I received it two days before the accident that took him away from us.” She sniffed, tears appearing in her eyes, and I felt awful. Why had I insisted on dragging up the past? That letter Tristan had received was right. Don’t go digging into the past. My grandma had lost her twin brother, the person she’d been closest to.

My own eyes filled with tears, and I blinked rapidly, squeezing her hand. “You don’t have to say anything else.” 

“You deserve to know what happened. It was a terrible accident. It-it happened while he was on the school grounds, where he should have been safe. From what they could piece together, he had either climbed out of a window or was attempting to scale a wall. No one could ever give me a reason why. There was a storm, and he…he fell.” 

With those last two words, her voice broke, and she covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed. I pushed back my chair, moving to circle her shoulders with my arms, telling her how sorry I was over and over again.

My grandad finished the story with words that cut me even deeper. “There was nothing they could do. They said he slipped. He didn’t suffer, so they told her.”

Questions were whirling through my mind, but the only thing I cared about was making sure my grandma was okay.

“That’s the first time she’s spoken about that night in years,” my grandad added in a whisper, making me feel even worse. I nodded, biting down on my lip and digging my nails into my palms in an attempt to hold myself together as I did my best to comfort my grandmother. 

Outside the pub, I pressed my forehead to the stone wall, taking a deep, shuddering breath. My grandparents had left in a much happier mood after Tristan had expertly steered the subject to our recent gods and goddesses ball. He’d embellished stories and exaggerated how I’d looked wearing a laurel wreath crown, and he’d even managed to dig up some photos of me from somewhere. Yet another thing I owed him for.

As for me, I was barely holding it together, and the last thing I wanted to do was fall apart in front of Tristan. 

Despite my efforts, tears filled my eyes. I was supposed to be strong. I couldn’t allow myself to give in.

“Aria.” Hands clasped my shoulders, and Tristan turned me to face him. I stared down at the pavement, biting on my trembling lip.

He sighed. “Come here.” With that, he pulled me into his arms, surrounding me with his body, strong and warm and solid. I let my head rest on his chest as the tears I was holding back escaped anyway, soaking the fabric of his polo shirt. He didn’t say anything, his hands stroking up and down my back and through my hair as I cried.

When I’d gathered myself, I went to pull away and he let me go without a fight. I swallowed around the lump in my throat. Despite our issues, I owed him my words. “Thank you for today,” I whispered.

He placed his thumb beneath my jaw, tilting my chin up so our eyes could meet. Then he dipped his head, brushing a soft kiss across my lips. 

Butterflies exploded in my belly.

My hand flew to my mouth as he released me. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, rubbing his hand over his own mouth. “Sorry. That was completely inappropriate⁠—”

I reached up, tugging his head back down to me, and kissed him back.

“I got you something.” Reaching into the luggage area behind our seats, Tristan handed me a manila folder.

Opening it, my eyes widened as I stared down at the contents. “You found a photo.”

“Yeah.” He shot me a quick grin before sliding his sunglasses over his eyes and starting up the car. “Head boy perks.”

“You’re not the head boy anymore.” 

“I kept my key card, so I can get into places the rest of you can’t go.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course you did.” Returning my attention to the photo, I traced my fingers over the rows of faces. It was a school year group photo, with my great-uncle on the end of the second row of students. I could instantly make out Tristan’s grandfather in the centre of the third row. He looked so much like Tristan.

“This was in the library archives. It was the term before the accident, so they would’ve been in the equivalent of our year twelve. I thought it might help us to put faces to names.” Tristan tapped the folder. “There’s another copy hidden in Knox’s room in the crypts. I went through it with Knox and Ro, and we’ve annotated it with the names of the people in the journal. If you wanna meet up with Elena and Quinn to look through it⁠—”

There was a weird lump in my throat. “Thank you,” I said again. This was the second time I’d thanked him today and meant it. 

But this time, there would be no kissing.

“Uh, yeah. No problem.” He shifted in his seat, clenching and unclenching his fingers around the steering wheel. He was probably just as uncomfortable with me thanking him as I was. And the kisses, which I knew we were in silent agreement to never mention again. This wasn’t our usual dynamic. 

Clearing my throat, I nodded. “I’ll text Quinn.” 

In response, he turned the music up, saving the need to attempt any more conversation.

Leaning back in my seat, I closed my eyes. I wished I’d never investigated the loose floorboards in the tower. Everything was changing, spiralling out of my control.

The box was open now, though, and there was no way to close it.

INTERLUDE

The student rubbed his hands together, swallowing hard. His shoulders were hunched over in an attempt to protect him from the driving rain. The fabric of his cloak was already soaked through, his hood sodden and heavy with water, melding to his skull. 

Overhead, lightning cracked, followed by the distant rumble of thunder. A dim golden light illuminated the stone tower in front of him, radiating from the lantern clasped in the hand of the hooded figure to his left.

“You don’t have to do this,” the figure called, their words whipped away by the wind. “It’s dangerous.”

“You said I would be accepted. I won’t give in, not when it’s within my grasp. I can do this.”

“John. Please be careful.”

“I will.” The student took a deep breath, curling his fingers around the rough fibres of the rope. He tugged on it, making sure it could take his weight and noting how his hands slipped on the coarse material. There were knots at regular intervals, which would make the climb easier, but it would still be fraught with danger.

He looked up, the rain instantly soaking his lashes, stinging his skin. The top of the bell tower was barely visible in the dark. As he stared upwards, lightning cracked the sky again, and the tower appeared in relief for a brief second before plunging into darkness again.

A faint yellow light appeared far above him. There it was. The sign. His destination and his future. This was the most difficult part of his initiation ritual. Once he’d made it to the top of the tower, he’d complete the blood pact, and then he would be one of the Brotherhood. He would finally belong.

Lowering his head again, he gripped the rope more firmly and began to climb.

18

ARIA

The limo idled in the back of the queue of vehicles slowly making their way to the open doors of the manor house, dropping off the partygoers who were here to celebrate Gregory Smith-Chamberlain’s appointment as Nottswood’s mayor. “This is pretty,” Elena murmured before leaning forward to speak to the driver. “Gareth, shall we get out here? Then you won’t have to wait in this queue of cars.”

The driver glanced at Elena in the rear-view mirror. Breaking protocol, he smiled and shook his head. “It’s my job to see you to the door. Sit back and relax. The queue should move fairly quickly.”

Knox wrapped his arm around Elena, pulling her into him as he kissed her cheek. I suddenly felt very much like a third wheel. Or a fifth wheel, in this case, since Knox’s parents were also in the limo with us. They’d offered me a lift, as I had flatly refused to attend the party with a date, and my own family members—my grandparents—would be chauffeured to the manor from their own home, which was in the opposite direction to Hatherley Hall.

Speaking of Knox’s parents…I couldn’t help noticing the proud smiles they exchanged as they watched their son and his girlfriend. It filled me with an inexplicable ache, perhaps brought on by the parents I’d never known. I’d never complain about my life, though. My grandparents had given me everything they could, parenting me to the best of their ability, and I hadn’t ever felt as if there was something missing.

“Mayor of Nottswood.” Knox’s dad shook his head. “I knew Gregory was ambitious, but I thought Jack would’ve been the one pushing for the mayor position. I’m surprised their father didn’t turn it into a competition between the two of them. Knowing him⁠—”

“Anthony.” Knox’s mum nudged her husband discreetly. “Now isn’t the time for gossip.”

“You’re right.” He squeezed her hand. “Besides, I’m sure Jack has enough to do with his judge duties, especially with the backlog of cases we’re dealing with. Every time I see him in court, he seems to be more and more harassed.”

“And you don’t?” Knox raised a brow at his dad. 

“Need I remind you that you’ll be in my position soon enough? Your future as a harassed, overworked lawyer awaits.”

They both laughed, and I returned to staring out of the window, watching as the limo inched closer to the manor’s entrance.

When we finally reached it, I smoothed down my knee-length black dress, which was hopefully acceptable attire for Tristan’s parents. The plain, understated A-line style should allow me to blend into the crowd. In theory, Tristan would be the one questioning his grandfather tonight, but I wanted to be ready for any opportunity that came my way, which meant I needed to be able to stay under the radar.

The driver came around to open the door, and I slid out of the limo with a smile of thanks. We were supposed to enter with an escort—some bollocks elite rule—but I strode inside without waiting, greeting the doorman with a polite nod of my head. 

The interior of the Jacobean manor dripped with foreboding luxury, all dark polished wood panelling, expensive rugs, and ornate plasterwork on the ceilings. Muted conversation reached my ears as I moved further into the house, accompanied by a string quartet. Following the handily placed signs, I moved quickly through the Long Gallery—a long, narrow room reminiscent of a corridor, lined with creepy-looking portraits, and entered the wide hallway that led to the main room where the celebrations were taking place. 

Stopping in the doorway, I took in the over-the-top décor and the wall-to-wall crowds, including a number of my fellow students. So much for a small, intimate gathering. Most of the elite seemed to be in attendance, here because of their business or family connections. I guessed no one wanted to miss out despite the last-minute organisation. Turning down an invitation could mean missing important networking opportunities at best and being shunned from the circles of the rich and influential at worst.

“Behold, the Great Chamber. Or so I’ve been informed.” 

I spun on my spike heel to see Blaine, one of Tristan’s friends, gesturing theatrically into the room. “Oh, hi. The Great Chamber? Is it really?”

“Apparently so. Look at that frieze, though. I’d paint over that if it was my house.” He grimaced, and I followed the direction of his gaze to the huge fox-hunting scene that dominated one wall.

“Hmm. Me too,” I agreed with a shudder.

He grinned at me. “Creepy, isn’t it? Want to dance? Or get a drink? Or sneak out and find somewhere to smoke? Anything to make this party less of a drag. I’ve only been here half an hour, and it feels like a fucking lifetime.”

As I laughed at his words, a flash of gold caught my eye, and my heart skipped a beat. My gaze shot towards the makeshift dance floor in front of the string quartet.

In the centre of the space was Tristan, with his blond hair perfectly coiffed and his body encased in a black suit that stretched across his broad shoulders. A smile curved over his lips, and even from here, I could see the sparkle in his eyes.

He was dancing with a girl I didn’t recognise. Tall, also blonde, her hair twisted into an intricate updo, and a beautiful, long pale blue dress that seemed to shimmer as they swayed to the music. He spun her, her diamond earrings catching the light as they looked into one another’s eyes.

Swallowing hard, I tore my gaze away. “Yeah, let’s dance.” There was no reason why the sight of Tristan dancing with someone else should bother me. I didn’t like him, he didn’t like me, and we were both entitled to dance with whoever we wanted. Blaine was a decent enough dance partner—I’d danced with him a few times in the past, and he didn’t step on my feet. That was my main criteria in a dance partner—well, that and someone who didn’t get handsy without my consent—and so he passed with flying colours.

I purposely kept my gaze averted from the part of the dance floor where Tristan and the unknown girl were dancing, making small talk with Blaine as we made a half-hearted effort to move to the music. When I saw Freya standing alone on the edge of the dance floor, watching us, I came to a stop before leading Blaine over to her.

“Okay, that’s my quota of dancing for the night. Your turn,” I said and left them to it. I needed to find my grandparents to say hi and check up on my grandma to make sure she was doing okay after everything.

I circled the room, unable to spot them anywhere, but I did spot Tristan’s parents, so I headed over to them to congratulate Gregory on his appointment as mayor.

“Aria, dear. How lovely to see you.” Jane kissed my cheeks and then stepped aside so I could greet my godfather and give him my congratulations. After we’d exchanged greetings, she returned to me, lowering her voice. “I must introduce you to Matthew, Tallulah’s son—the one I mentioned to you before.” 

“Oh. Um…”

Her gaze flitted to my left, and her polite smile widened a fraction. “Tristan, darling. There you are. Would you do the honour of escorting Aria to the Kents and introduce her to Matthew?”

An arm brushed against my bare shoulder, and goosebumps appeared on my skin. “Of course. I’ll do that right away,” Tristan said, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. 

“I’m not interested in meeting whoever it is your parents want to set me up with,” I hissed, digging my heels in as he began to lead me away.

“You’re not fucking meeting him,” he ground out, tugging harder. The only reason I went with him without a fuss was because I didn’t want to make a scene.

“Tristan, my lad.” Tristan’s uncle loomed in front of us, blocking our route. His cheeks and lips were stained red, which no doubt meant he’d been on the wine or port. 

“Uncle Jack.” Tristan nodded briefly. I noticed a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“Judge Smith-Chamberlain,” I said politely.

His gaze slid to mine and then meandered down my body. “Aria. Mmm. All grown up. You⁠—”

Thankfully, I never got to hear the rest of his sentence because Tristan shouldered past him, pulling me through the crowds and across to a section of wall at the side of the room. He pressed his fingers to the panelling, and when it popped open, I realised it was one of the servants’ doors, designed to look like part of the wall from inside the room. 

He closed the door carefully, glancing both ways before turning to the left and leading me down the passageway. We passed a couple of staff members laden with platters of food, but they hurried by with their heads down, paid to be unobtrusive.

We continued on to the end of the corridor and then up a set of rickety wooden stairs that led to what was clearly the servants’ quarters. At the end of a long, draughty hallway, Tristan turned right, pushing open a door that led into another hallway, this one decorated as opulently as the downstairs. We finally came to a stop in front of a polished wooden door, and he opened it, gesturing with his hand.

“After you.”

I stepped into the darkened bedroom, and he followed me in, closing the door behind us with a soft click.

Releasing my wrist, he crowded up behind me, banding his arm around my torso, just below my breasts. “Let’s get one thing clear. You’re not meeting fucking Matthew Kent tonight. You’re not dancing with Blaine.”

“Too late for the second one.”

His hand clasped my throat. “Enough.”

“Hypocrite.” I swallowed beneath the press of his fingers. “You were dancing with someone earlier, and you looked like you were enjoying it.”

Taking the shell of my ear between his teeth, he bit down lightly. I shivered.

“No more games. We’re here tonight for one reason, and that’s to find out what my grandfather has to say about whatever was in that journal.” He paused, his fingers pressing harder into the side of my throat. “But just so you know, I only danced with her to keep my parents happy. You, on the other hand, had no excuse.”

“Who are you to say who I can dance with?”

Ignoring my question, he dipped his head lower, sliding his lips over my earlobe. “No jewellery. No embellishments. And somehow, you still manage to outshine every other woman in the room. How the fuck do you manage to do that? You did it at the ball, and you’re doing it again tonight.”

I had no reply.

Except…that wasn’t true because I found myself speaking, words flying from my mouth that I’d never planned on speaking aloud. Words I never even knew were inside me. “You’re the one who outshines everyone, and you know it. No one can take their eyes off you, not even me.”

He inhaled harshly, his fingers flexing on my throat. “Fuck.”

Abruptly, he released me, spinning to open the door and stepping through it. Before I could move, he closed it in my face, and then I heard him striding down the hall, leaving me all alone in a darkened room.

19

TRISTAN

Tonight was not going to plan. First, my parents had cornered me to ask why I hadn’t informed them about the fact I was no longer head boy. I’d listened to them both ranting for around fifteen minutes before they ran out of steam, and in the end, they’d thrown their hands up and said if I wanted to waste the opportunities I’d been given, it was my own fault.

After that, we’d joined the party, and my parents’ moods had greatly improved, in direct contrast to my own. My mother had asked me to dance with several different socialites, and I’d only acquiesced in order to smooth things over. 

In the middle of my fourth dance, my mood had plummeted even further. Aria fucking Harper had waltzed into the party with one of my friends, looking hot as fuck and not even deigning to spare me a single glance. She’d been smiling and whispering with Blaine, looking all cosy as she stood way too close to him, and then they’d started dancing. His hands had held her almost possessively, and I’d had to fight back my sudden urge to storm over and rip his hands from her body.

I wasn’t sure what had horrified me more—Aria acting like I didn’t exist and looking far too happy with Blaine or the fact that I was horrified by her actions.

And then she’d said those words…

You’re the one who outshines everyone, and you know it. No one can take their eyes off you, not even me.

I couldn’t fucking think. Now, here I was, with one hand on the door to the bedroom I used when I stayed here and the other grasping a small, rectangular box. A box I’d retrieved from the small safe my uncle thought he was clever by hiding behind an oil painting, as if that wasn’t the most cliché move ever. He even had the same combination my father used for his own safe and, apparently, my grandfather, too. Yes, the Smith-Chamberlains passed their combination codes down the family line. Fucking ridiculous, not to mention it meant security was almost non-existent, but it was convenient, I guessed.

Pushing the door open, I stepped inside. While I’d been gone, Aria had turned on one of my bedside lamps, and she was now standing in front of the windows, staring outside. She was completely still, not even moving at the click of the door when I closed it behind me.

I came up behind her, opening the box. The contents glimmered, catching the light. It was then that I realised my palms were sweating and my hands were shaking.

What the actual fuck was I doing?

“A-Aria.” I cleared my throat. She tilted her head, and I panicked, snapping the box shut and shoving it into my pocket. 

“Where did you go?” Her voice was flat, and I had no idea what she was thinking.

“Nowhere.”

“Right.” She turned to face me, and my gaze caught on the faint marks on her throat. My weird moment of nerves faded away, and a smile curved over my lips as I tilted her chin to the side to take a closer look. She exhaled unsteadily. “Admiring your handiwork? How am I going to explain this? Again?”

“Hmm.” I trailed my nose up her throat. “I guess you’ll have to tell them the truth. Tell them I got my hands on you, and you fucking loved it.”

“Liar.”

“You’re the liar, Aria.” I pressed into her, biting back a groan at the friction against my hardening cock. “We both know you love it when I touch you.”

“You arrogant fucking bastard,” she whispered as I placed my mouth over one of the marks, sucking to create a deeper bruise. “Get away from me.”

I lifted my head. “If that’s what you want.” Releasing her, I took a step back. 

“You owe me.”

My brows rose. “For what?”

“For starting something and not finishing it.” Her gaze flicked down to my erection tenting my trousers. “You really like marking people up that much?”

Slowly, I shook my head, answering her honestly, although I couldn’t say why. “Not people, Aria. You. Now, what is it you want from me? You tell me to get away from you, and then you say I owe you. I’m gonna need you to spell out what it is you want because I’m at a loss.”

“Make me tell you.”

I was so fucking confused and turned on and, honestly, quite pissed off. That was the Aria effect, I guessed. “You want me to make you?”

“Yes,” she bit out. Fucking fine. If that was what she wanted. 

“Kneel.”

“You—”

“Fucking kneel. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Her eyes widened, but then her gaze grew dark and heated. Gracefully, she lowered herself to the floor. My cock jerked. Seeing my strong-willed little scorpion willingly follow my commands was a rush like no other.

I stared down at her. Her back was straight, and her chin was held high as her eyes remained connected with mine, defiant even in her apparent submission. She held all the power, and she probably knew it, too.

“Take my dick out,” I said softly. As she lifted her hands, raking her nails lightly over my thighs, I groaned. I was so fucking hard. But after I’d given her a pearl necklace—a poor substitute for the piece of jewellery I really wanted to give her—I’d make sure she was left so satisfied that no one else would ever come close to the pleasure I managed to give her.

My jaw clenched. I didn’t want to think about anyone else satisfying her.

Her hot mouth closed around the head of my cock, and all thoughts of other people flew from my mind. “Fuuuck, how are you so good at this,” I moaned, more of a statement than a question, as she took me deeper, doing a flicking thing with her tongue that made my dick jerk. She took a deep breath through her nose as I pushed forwards, her eyes filling with tears as her lips stretched around my girth.

One of her hands slid onto my inner thigh, and then she cupped my balls, tugging lightly, a fucking perfect tease combined with the hot, wet pressure of her mouth. She slipped one finger onto my taint, dragging a manicured nail over it, and I groaned, my hands going to her hair, pushing her even deeper until my cock was all the way down her throat.

There was zero chance of me lasting, and as she moved back again, licking over my cock like it was her favourite extra-large lolly, I managed to rasp out a warning.

“Gonna. Come.”

I pulled out, my hand flying to the base of my dick to direct my cum at her throat, and I came hard and fast, my release hitting her bare skin, joining the marks already there that showed she was mine.

“Fucking hell.” Steadying myself with my palm on the wall, I took several deep, juddering breaths, bringing much-needed oxygen to my lungs. Sucking one’s brains out was a cliché, but it was completely true in Aria’s case.

She rose to her feet, wiping at her mouth, and glanced around the room with a frown. Stalking over to the switch for the wall light, she hit it, flooding the room with sudden brightness. Blinking hard, I slapped my hand over my eyes, and despite my temporary loss of vision, I could almost see her rolling her eyes at me.

When I lowered my hand, she was studying her reflection in the mirror on the dresser. After I’d managed to get my trousers and shirt back in place, I joined her, watching as she—wait, what was she doing?

“It’s a holder that goes on your thigh,” she said in a bored voice before I could reply. “I didn’t have a bag, and this way, I can carry my phone and lipstick. Any questions? No? Good.”

I didn’t say anything, too busy taking in the long length of thigh that was currently exposed to my gaze. How could she be so petite and have such fucking long legs? That went against the laws of physics, I was sure.

Shaking my head, I spun away from her and then took several more deep breaths. Calm the fuck down, Tristan. Remember what you’re here for.

When I returned to her side, she’d finished with her lipstick, and her hair had been smoothed down. Her black eye make-up had stayed in place, despite her tears, and if it hadn’t been for the traces of cum still on her skin, I might’ve thought I’d imagined her giving me arguably the best blow job I’d ever had.

I curled my arm around her waist, my chest to her back, and eyed our reflections in the mirror. “We look good together, don’t we?”

“Lots of things that look good can be poisonous,” she replied, and my brows lifted.

“I guess that’s true. Now, are we gonna talk about your earlier comments? Specifically, why I owe you, and what I started and didn’t finish?”

She gripped my hand, her nails digging into my skin, and I hissed at the sudden sting. But then she dragged it down, right between her legs. What in the actual fuck?

“This,” she ground out, her voice so full of resentment that I had to work to hide the amusement on my face. “Fix. It. Now.”

Oh. Fuck. Okay. I might have been confused earlier, but I was definitely not confused now. 

“Hold on.”

That was the only warning I gave her before lifting her, taking the few steps to the bed, and depositing her on it. I pushed up her dress, and she glared up at me, spreading her legs. My gaze zeroed in on the damp patch in her silky thong, and my mouth watered.

“Get on with it.” She hooked her ankle around the back of my knee, trying to get me to move closer.

I smirked down at her. “Patience is a virtue, little scorpion.”

“You’ve had yours, now give me mine.” If looks could kill, I’d be badly maimed at the very least. I leaned over her, taking my time lowering my head between her thighs.

Predictably, she gripped a handful of my hair and tugged hard. I shot her a warning look, smacking her pussy lightly with my fingers, and she gasped, her body bucking upwards. Yeah, I thought she’d like that.

“Stay still,” I commanded, easing her thong down. Tapping her legs to move them closer so I could take it off all the way, I carefully pulled it down her legs and over her heels. I dangled the scrap of silk in front of her, taking in her flushed cheeks and lust-filled gaze. “This is mine now.”

Carefully tucking the thong into my pocket, I slid my palms up her thighs and began teasing her wet little pussy with my fingers. My dick was already showing signs of life, and it wasn’t surprising because she was so fucking sexy, writhing on my bed, breathy little noises falling from her throat as I fucked her first with my fingers, then my tongue. 

She came explosively, arching off the bed, and the best part of all?

She called out my name.

My. Fucking. Name.

“There’s no point looking in the safe. He doesn’t keep anything important in there. Not paperwork or anything.” My voice was a lower whisper as I cupped my phone with my hand so the torchlight was contained. 

“Can we just check?” Aria brushed her fingers over the metal dial, and I sighed. While my uncle hid his safe behind a painting, my grandfather’s was placed inside a huge oak wardrobe in his dressing area, visible to anyone who opened the wardrobe doors. It was as if he was daring someone to try and break it open, not that anyone in the manor would dare.

“Okay.” Instead of moving her hand out of the way, I closed my fingers over hers, turning the dial through the combination of numbers. With a click, the safe opened, and we both peered inside, Aria’s hair brushing against my cheek as I swept my phone torch over the interior.

As I’d expected, the contents were sparse. My grandfather had never been one for jewellery or sentimentality, and aside from a small collection of watches, the only other item was a single wooden box. The size and shape made me immediately think it was a ring box, and sure enough, when I lifted it from the safe and opened it, I found a tarnished gold ring.

“It’s the same ring.” Aria tapped on the crest.

“Yeah.” It had to be my grandfather’s society ring, unless we’d interpreted everything wrong and there was some other explanation. 

“Do you think there’s anything else here?”

I closed the box, returning it to its original position within the safe, and then closed and locked the door. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s best if I speak with my grandfather. If anyone finds me going through his shit⁠—”

“Are you scared?” Aria stared at me.

“What? Fuck, no, I’m not scared. I’m realistic, and I have a sense of self-preservation. Don’t roll your eyes.”

“I’m not.” She widened her eyes, waving her hand in front of her face.

A smile tugged at my lips. “Yeah, but you wanted to. Don’t deny it.”

“Whatever,” she muttered, climbing to her feet and heading through the wide archway that split the space between a dressing area and a personal study. I heard a loud creak, followed by a muffled swear word, and I sighed again, rising to my own feet. It wasn’t a good idea to leave Aria to her own devices in my grandfather’s private wing. I hadn’t been joking about my sense of self-preservation. If anyone found us snooping around, I’d have no excuse. No reason to be in here, in a house that wasn’t even my own, when everyone else was downstairs celebrating.

“Tristan!”

I moved faster, crossing the space to find Aria leaning over my grandfather’s desk. Papers were spread across the surface, and one of the drawers was wide open, more papers spilling out.

“Aria! What the fuck,” I hissed, but she beckoned to me impatiently.

“Look. I spotted the symbol on the cover of this book in the very first drawer I tried.”

I stared at the leather folder—not a book—that Aria had discovered. Sliding it across the desk, I carefully pressed down on the metal clasp, and it popped open. 

My breath caught in my throat.

“The missing pages,” Aria breathed.

Angling my phone so the torchlight fell across the paper, I began to read, snapping photos at the same time.

As I turned over the final page, scanning the remaining few lines of text, a soft creak sounded from outside the room. Aria and I froze, and then, as one, moved, stuffing the papers back into the folder, closing the drawer, and trying to make the desk look as it did before we’d started digging around.

Another creak sounded.

My heart was pounding like I’d run a marathon. My fingers found Aria’s, and I curled them around hers, squeezing her shaking hand. We both held our breath, listening.

Everything fell silent.

Then, the door that led to the hallway opened, my grandfather’s frame filling the space.

INTERLUDE

The candles sputtered as a gust of wind whipped through the open window.

“Careful.” One of the hooded figures moved, using their body as a shield against the elements. After a moment, the light steadied, a gentle flickering once more. 

The hooded figure holding the rope tugged at the knot they’d made and then nodded, satisfied. “It is ready. Signal the initiate.”

Another member of the Brotherhood came forwards, bearing a heavy iron lantern. Carefully, they positioned it in front of the window, where the light could be seen from below. 

The hooded figure with the rope moved to the table, pen scratching across parchment as they recorded the details of the initiation ritual. From their position, they could see the rope jerk and grow taut as the initiate began their climb.

The wind howled, and lightning split the sky. At the same time, the members of the Brotherhood heard the distinct cry of an eagle.

“What is an eagle doing out in this storm?” 

“You must be mistaken. That was not an eagle.”

“It was.”

“Silence!” the figure at the table boomed, pounding on the wood. “It is a sign. An eagle signifies victory.” Stepping back from the table, they ran their fingers over the coarse strands of the rope, tracing the knot they’d tied with their own hand.

“Victory. But for whom…” they mused, their words carried away by the raging storm.

Far below, the initiate continued to climb.

20

TRISTAN

The light flicked on, and I blinked against the sudden brightness.

“Tristan. And…Aria.” My grandfather’s brows rose. I quickly released Aria’s hand. I was going to have enough explaining to do without adding more complications.

“Grandfather.” I pulled out my best charming smile, flashing my teeth at him.

“Care to explain what the two of you are doing here in my private office, in the dark, instead of downstairs celebrating your father’s appointment as mayor?”

This wasn’t happening the way I’d hoped, but fuck it, he was here, and I had questions. But first, I needed to make sure Aria left. I didn’t want her to attract my grandfather’s wrath, and the only way to do that was to lie brazenly.

“I can certainly tell you what I’m doing here. As for Miss Harper, I’m afraid she’s here under duress. I wanted her opinion on a suitable gift for Father.”

“A gift which happens to be in my wing of the manor?” 

“Yes.” I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping he’d buy it. “I was going to show her the watches in your safe. Your Robert Loomes Robin, to be exact. I always find it’s better to see these things in person, don’t you?”

There was a pause, and then he chuckled, shaking his head. “I suppose so. Go ahead.”

I confidently strode over to the dressing area, followed by Aria, and continued on to his wardrobe. Throwing it open, I crouched down to open the safe. I shielded my actions from Aria as if I was hiding the combination from her. When the safe opened, I reached inside, carefully extracting one of the watches I’d spotted when I’d opened the safe earlier.

“Here, Aria. See the leather…” I bullshitted about the watch’s qualities for a full minute while she nodded along with my explanations but remained silent for the most part.

Replacing the watch in the safe, I glanced back through the archway to my grandfather, who had taken up a casual pose at the edge of his desk, one hand in his pocket and the other playing with a paperweight. “Aria,” I said. “You can go now. I need to talk to my grandfather in private.”

I saw her staring at me out of the corner of my eye, but I didn’t dare to turn to look at her. After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded.

“Thank you for letting me see the watch, Samuel. Um. Mr. Smith-Chamberlain. Sir. Sorry. I apologise for…um…intruding in your room.”

“Don’t mention it,” my grandfather said drily. When Aria had left us alone, I leaned against the side of the archway, meeting my grandfather’s gaze head-on. He appreciated directness and honesty, and so that was what I was going to give him. Or an edited version. 

“I wanted a chance to speak to you tonight. Not like this, perhaps, but now you’re here…” Trailing off, I cleared my throat and then straightened my shoulders. “I didn’t want to say anything while Aria was here, but I’ve heard rumours about a secret society at Hatherley Hall when you were a student.”

His gaze remained impassive, but I didn’t miss the subtle tightening of his jaw. Encouraged, I continued.

“Father said something about Aria’s great-uncle tutoring students. He said you wouldn’t have interacted with him much because you moved in different circles, but I wondered if you knew who he tutored. And whether he had anything to do with the secret society.”

I knew he had something to do with the society, for the fact his name had been on the list in the journal, and doubly so after his name had been mentioned in the torn-out pages regarding the initiation ritual. But my grandfather didn’t know I was in possession of that information—I hoped—and so I’d be weighing up his replies carefully, if he decided to deny it.

“Tell me what you know and where you heard these rumours.”

I shrugged. “Nothing concrete. Just rumours around school. All I know is there was a secret society at one point, and Aria’s great-uncle might have been involved.” Steeling myself, I added, “I heard you might have been involved in it, too.” 

Slowly and deliberately, he lowered the paperweight and released it. It connected with the surface of the desk with a soft thud. He straightened up, heading over to a tall cabinet in the corner.

“Whisky?”

“Uh, okay.”

He poured two fingers’ worth from a crystal decanter into two whisky glasses and handed me one. Taking a sip and then placing his glass down on the desk, he sighed. “You’ll understand why I needed a drink after I tell you what I know. Before I say anything, I want you to promise me that what I’m about to tell you remains in this room. No discussing it with your friends or Miss Harper, or your parents, for that matter. Can we agree?”

“Yeah, of course.” Fuck, I hated lying to him, but if he told me something useful, there was no possibility I’d keep it from my best friends or Aria.

“Good. I see a lot of myself in you, you know. An inquiring mind is an asset, if one knows when to ask questions and, more importantly, the right questions to ask.” Picking up his glass again, he swirled the amber liquid, a faraway look in his eyes. “The rumours you’ve heard have some truth to them. There was a society at Hatherley Hall, the Brotherhood. It was very secret, very exclusive. Something like your elite group is now, I suppose, except no women were allowed, and everything was very cloak-and-dagger. There was nothing nefarious or untoward about it—I suppose, if anything, it was a schoolboy’s version of a gentlemen’s club. That sort of thing. As far as I’m aware, the society was disbanded while I was still a student and was never reformed again.”

“How does Aria’s great-uncle fit into all this?”

Pinching his brow, he exhaled heavily. “You must understand. This is…difficult to talk about. John was a bright boy. An exceptional student, despite his modest upbringing. He tutored…well, he tutored me. We became friends, of a sort, and I wanted him to join the society. The night of his initiation, he was to scale the bell tower. There was a great storm. It was an accident…he fell. I’ll never forget the cry he made⁠—”

Cutting himself off, he turned away from me, bowing his head. I’d never seen my grandfather show much emotion before, so I wasn’t sure how to proceed. I went through everything I’d discovered on the missing pages. Aria’s great-uncle was supposed to use a knotted rope to scale the bell tower from the ground outside all the way to the window at the top. Somehow, at some point, something had gone wrong. There was no information in those pages regarding what had happened, but based on the things Aria’s grandmother had said, it was easy enough to see that he must have fallen during the climb. Scaling a rope in a storm sounded almost suicidal to me. He must’ve wanted to be a part of that society badly enough to try despite the odds.

I swallowed around the unexpected lump in my throat. The whole thing was so fucking unjust and unfair.

“Were you in the tower?” I wasn’t sure why it mattered, but the thought of John being all alone when he began that climb…

“I was…no. I was with him at the bottom.” He drained the rest of his glass. “You’ll understand why it’s difficult to talk about and why you must keep this to yourself.”

“I get it.” My mind was racing, and I had to know. “Was that how my parents became Aria’s godparents? Because you were friends with her great-uncle?”

“Yes. The incident shook us all, and that was why we made a decision to disband the society. We couldn’t risk anything like that ever happening again. I wanted to provide for John’s family, and so I set aside a significant sum of money in his name. Aria’s grandmother refused to touch it, however. I believe she was too distraught by the loss of her brother and felt as if she would be almost profiting from his death in a way.” He sighed. “Grief has a funny way of distorting people’s minds.”

“She never took a penny of it?”

“No. However, I managed to speak with Aria’s parents when I found out her mother was expecting, and we set up a trust in Aria’s name on the proviso that it would appear to come from her parents themselves. They opened an account to be solely used to pay for Aria’s education, allowing her to follow in her great-uncle’s footsteps and attend Hatherley Hall. The rest, we set up as a small trust that would go to Aria in the event of her parents’ passing. That way, John’s family would be provided for despite Margaret’s objections. I don’t know if… Perhaps she would have eventually accepted it, if I’d come to her again and asked for it to be used for her granddaughter, but she refused to talk about it.”

Oh, fuck. “Does Aria know the money is coming from you?”

“As far as Aria is aware—as far as everyone is aware, including your parents—the money is coming from her deceased parents. I made a promise to her parents that we wouldn’t disclose the source. We didn’t want to risk Margaret contesting it.”

She wouldn’t have, surely? She loved Aria, and I was one hundred percent positive she only had her best interests at heart.

“I believe Aria’s grandparents would have greatly preferred Aria to attend a different school. In Margaret’s head, Hatherley Hall was solely to blame for her brother’s death.” Stepping over to the cabinet, he poured himself another whisky with trembling hands. In that moment, I realised how much this must have been weighing on him, keeping it all inside. How much he must have wanted to talk about this with someone.

“I’m sorry to ask more questions. I’m just trying to work it all out in my head. How does this fit in with my parents being Aria’s godparents?”

“Your mother was expecting at the same time as Aria’s mother. It was simple enough to arrange a few small social gatherings to engineer my desired outcome.”

My brows flew up. “Engineer your desired outcome?”

“To see that John had a legacy to be proud of. The legacy he strived for but was denied. Your parents becoming Aria’s godparents opened up doors to her that she would never be able to access otherwise. She has a bright future ahead of her.”

I tipped my whisky glass to my lips, grimacing at the burn as it slid down my throat. What a fucking mess. I could see why my grandfather had done what he did, and I did admire the fact that he’d tried to do what he could for his friend. To the Smith-Chamberlains, money and connections were everything. They equalled power, and he’d done what he could to ensure that Aria achieved that when her grandmother hadn’t been able to accept it. However, the fact that I now knew that he was the one financing Aria’s education and day-to-day spending, and my parents weren’t even aware of it…

Fuck. How the fuck was I supposed to handle this? How could I look Aria in the eye, knowing what I now knew, and not tell her the truth?

“Thank you for telling me,” I managed finally. 

My grandfather gave me a sad smile. “See that the information remains between us.” He straightened up. “I believe it’s time to return to the party. What do you say?”

I nodded. “Yeah. We’ve been gone long enough.”

“I’ll join you in a moment,” he said as I moved towards the door. As I stepped outside, I caught the words he murmured softly behind me.

In nomine iustitiae, omnia iustificata.

21

ARIA

Iglared at the back of Tristan’s head, pushing aside the hollow feeling that had been there ever since that night at the manor. Up at the front of the classroom, Professor Watkins spoke animatedly about revision plans, but my mind was drifting.

That night… Tristan had finally come back to the party and drawn me aside. He’d told me that his grandfather had more or less confirmed what we’d found in those missing pages—that my great-uncle had been taking part in a secret society initiation ritual, climbing the bell tower, when he’d fallen. He’d also told me that his grandfather was the one my great-uncle had been tutoring—or one of the students he’d been tutoring, at least, and he’d been there with my great-uncle for his initiation.

Aside from Tristan’s brief summary, he’d been uncharacteristically quiet, and after he’d updated me, he’d disappeared. I hadn’t seen him again that night, not even with his friends. Ever since we’d come back to school, it felt as if he was avoiding me. In fact, it was more than avoiding. He’d been acting as if I didn’t exist.

I didn’t care.

I shouldn’t care.

I didn’t want to care.

I cared, and I hated him for making me care.

We were in our politics lesson, and he hadn’t even attempted to sit next to me. He’d entered the room without even bothering to spare me a glance and taken a seat in the front of the classroom.

The chair next to mine remained empty.

Quinn looked straight ahead, her eyes hidden by huge sunglasses as she gazed across the field to where the lacrosse team were warming up. Her elbow nudged mine discreetly. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Why was I here? Why had I allowed Quinn to drag me to lacrosse practice? Now I couldn’t take my eyes off fucking Tristan Smith-Chamberlain, just like the cluster of giggling girls a little further down from where we were standing.

“Aria.”

“Quinn.”

She sighed. “You know you can trust me, right?”

I adjusted my own shades, resting my arms on the barrier that separated us from the field. “I know.” 

“I’m worried about you,” she admitted quietly. “You’ve been…quiet since the manor. Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened.” When she turned to look at me, sliding her sunglasses onto the top of her head so I could meet her gaze, I gave in. I kept my own sunglasses on, though. I needed that barrier. “Oh, okay. Something happened. Me and Tristan went snooping in his grandfather’s rooms. We found the missing pages of the notebook.”

Quinn nodded. “Roman said. I mean, he didn’t tell me anything really. He said he didn’t know much himself. Just that the pages had confirmed what we already knew, and they mentioned the initiation ritual. And he said that the society was disbanded after…after the accident.”

“Yeah. That was it, really. We found the pages, and then Tristan’s grandfather caught us. I was scared, Quinn. I didn’t think I would be, but seeing him there just made it all seem real.”

“I can’t even imagine. What happened when he found you?”

“Tristan made an excuse for why we were there, and I ended up leaving them alone. I went back to the party, and a little bit later, Tristan showed up again.”

“Right.” She nodded. “That was when we were dancing together with Elena?”

“Yeah. When I left you both to get a drink, he found me again. He just… After he told me what his grandfather had said, we agreed to draw a line under it all. There’s no point in dragging up the past anymore. We have our answers, the whole thing is clearly upsetting for the people involved, and so that’s it. Done.”

“Done,” Quinn echoed, her mouth turning down.

“Done. There’s no reason for us to spend time together anymore outside of a group situation. He’s…well, he’s Tristan, and I’m me, and we hate each other.”

“Aria.”

“Don’t.” My voice wobbled, and I hated that Tristan could affect me like this. We meant nothing to each other. We’d been thrown together by circumstance, a temporary blip in our antagonistic relationship, never to be repeated.

“Okay,” she said softly. On the field, the whistle blew, and I watched as Tristan jogged over to the cluster of girls, all muddy and sweaty in his lacrosse jersey. He removed his helmet, grinning at the swooning girls, and I spun away so fast I felt dizzy.

“I know Elena couldn’t be here today because she had a date with Knox’s mum and little sister at the dessert cafe in town, and I don’t want to leave you alone, but I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Aria…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to come. I thought…I thought there was something between you and Tristan…”

When her voice trailed off, I slowly turned back around, following her gaze to where Tristan was leaning on the railing, his helmet dangling from his fingertips as he flirted with the girls. He never even glanced our way.

“No,” I said, unable to hide the bitterness in my voice. “There has never been, and will never be, anything between me and Tristan.”

“If you want to leave, I don’t mind. I would have never asked you to come if I’d realised.”

“It’s okay. Like I said, there’s nothing between us. He means nothing to me. Come on, Quinn. The golden boy of Hatherley Hall? The arrogant man who gets any single girl he wants with a snap of his fingers and has no interest in settling down? He’s everything I detest in a man, and he’s my godbrother.”

“This is such a mess. For what it’s worth, I think the two of you could be good together, but I also think you’re both incredibly stubborn, and any relationship between you would require⁠—”

“No. Please don’t bring it up again. There is no relationship, and there never will be.” 

“Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Quinn stepped back from the railing, holding up her hands. Roman chose that moment to jog over, stealing a kiss, and I busied myself with my phone while they reacquainted themselves with each other’s tonsils.

Roman pulled away from his girlfriend long enough to address me. “Thanks for coming. Tristan’s been a fucking nightmare this week.”

“What would any of that have to do with me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Like you don’t know.”

I really didn’t know.

“Roman.” Quinn pointedly cleared her throat.

“He, uh, I know he’s happy you’re here,” he muttered. Shooting a glance at his friend, he winced.

I followed his gaze to see—surprise, surprise, Tristan still flirting with the girls. One of them was even squeezing his bicep. “Yeah, really looks like it.” I fucking hated this jealousy. Why should I care what he was doing or who he was doing?

“He’s confused.”

I’d had enough. Bending down, I scooped up my bag from the grass, swinging it over my shoulder. “Okay, well, he can be confused on his own because I’m not interested.” I turned to Quinn. “Come and find me when you’re ready. I’m gonna go and—” I spun around, trying to find a distraction. “—watch the tennis players.”

Her voice faded behind me as I stalked across the grounds, away from the lacrosse pitch. “Tennis? Since when do you like tennis?”

Over by the tennis courts, I placed my school blazer down on the grass as a makeshift blanket and sat down facing the courts with my back to the lacrosse field. Stretching my legs out in front of me, I basked in the feel of the warm sun on my bare skin, pretending to watch the doubles game happening in front of me. Tennis was a sport I’d never had much interest in—mostly because I’d never shown any aptitude for it—and Quinn was well aware of that fact. I was pretty sure she understood why I had to escape, though. 

I was right. Less than ten minutes later, a shadow fell across my legs, and then Quinn lowered herself to the grass next to me.

“I really am sorry.” She leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry with you. I just wish I’d never found that box in the first place. All it’s done is upset people and complicate our lives.” Plucking at the blades of grass beneath my fingers, I sighed. “I want to pretend it never happened.”

“Pretend what never happened?”

“Yeah. That.”

She reached out and squeezed my hand. “This will all be over soon. Our final ever term at Hatherley Hall is coming to an end. Soon, we’ll be deep in exam prep, and then after our exams, we’ll be finished forever. You won’t have to see Tristan ever again.” After a pause, she added, “I guess you’ll probably see him or hear about him occasionally, with his parents being your godparents. But it won’t be like it is now, stuck in the same place day after day with no escape.”

I knew she was just trying to make me feel better, so why did her words hurt so much?

22

ARIA

Exam prep officially began today, and those of us with upcoming A-level final exams had been given use of the main hall in which to study, supervised by several of our teachers. We had independent study periods scheduled in our new, temporary timetables, but these supervised sessions had been scheduled for every year thirteen student, in two-hour blocks every day until our exams began. I guessed they didn’t really trust us to study completely on our own.

The cavernous hall with its vaulted ceilings and tall pillars was filled with soft conversation, pages turning, pens scratching across paper, and fingers tapping on keyboards. The pews had been rearranged to create study spaces, and tables had been brought in, so there was plenty of room to spread out and work either individually or in small groups.

“Aria!” Elena grabbed my arm as I entered the hall. “What am I supposed to do here?”

I smiled at my friend. Most of the time, I forgot that all of this was still new to her, how some of the traditions we had at Hatherley Hall probably seemed unusual for anyone not brought up in our insular little world. “It’s just a supervised study thing, really. You find a space in the hall and revise whatever you need to for your exams. Most of our course teachers will be wandering around, too, if you need them for anything.”

She nodded. “Okay. That makes sense, and that’s more or less what I thought. I just wanted to make sure.”

I glanced towards the centre of the room, where Katy and Will were waving madly, clearly trying to get Elena’s attention. Nudging Elena with my elbow, I nodded in their direction. “Looks like you’re going to be revising for your music exams.”

A smile curved over her lips. “Thanks. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah. Have fun. Or…as much fun as you can have in this situation.”

She laughed softly, squeezing my arm before she moved away. “You too.”

Personally, I revised best alone without distractions from others, so when she’d gone, I scanned the room, finding a free space to set up my own private corner to study for my upcoming politics exam. As I flipped through a past paper on political ideas, I came to a question that stumped me. Glancing around the hall, I saw Professor Watkins pacing up and down in front of one of the huge windows. I rose from my seat, scooping up the paper, a pen, and my phone, and then made my way over to him.

“Sir, I wondered if I could speak to you about one of the questions on this past paper.”

He nodded, giving me a brief smile. “Of course. Which question are you having trouble with?”

“This one.” I pointed to the relevant page, tapping the question with my pen. 

“Ah, yes. That seems to be tripping a few of you up. I have a book you may find useful, if you’d like to borrow it for the remainder of the study session. Chapters four and five should be particularly relevant.” Striding over to a small table in the corner of the hall, he sifted through a pile of textbooks and then handed me a small, thin tome. “Here.”

“Thank you, sir.” I hesitated, clasping the book before I made a split-second decision. “I-I wanted to say I’m sorry for what you went through when you were a student here.”

He blanched, his hand coming down to grip the edge of the table, steadying himself. “Explain yourself, Miss Harper,” he commanded in a low voice.

Tristan had warned me not to speak of what his grandfather had told him, but Professor Watkins had been involved with it all. We knew that, thanks to the names in the notebook. He already knew what had happened.

“The secret society and my great-uncle.” Taking a deep breath, I continued. “I’m sorry. I-I know everyone wants to keep it in the past, but I wanted to apologise for mentioning anything to you in the first place. I shouldn’t have; it was inappropriate.”

Gaping at me, he clutched at the desk like a lifeline. His knuckles whitened with his tight grip. “You know,” he whispered. “Oh, Miss Harper. No. No, no, no. I’m the one who should apologise. If only I had tried harder to stop John from making that climb. I was there with him at the bottom of the tower. I should have stopped him. The-the storm, and that rope…it wasn’t safe. It hadn’t been tied properly. My regrets are few, but that…the events of that night will stay with me forever.”

I blinked, my mind running over what Tristan had told me. Then I shook my head firmly. “Sir. You can’t blame yourself. Tristan’s grandfather was my great-uncle’s friend, and he didn’t say anything, either. It was no one’s fault. No one could have known what would happen. It was a tragic accident.”

He stared at me, his bushy brows pulling together. “Tristan’s grandfather? I’m sorry, Aria, but you must be mistaken. Your great-uncle was no friend of his. I left a note for Tristan to warn him not to investigate the situation. I was extremely concerned when he asked me about the society. Those of us who were involved in the Brotherhood…we agreed to never speak of it again after the tragedy that occurred.”

“Tristan’s grandfather wasn’t my great-uncle’s friend? B-but I thought he tutored my great-uncle, and they became friends? And…and he was there at the bottom of the tower that night?”

Professor Watkins’ frown deepened, and the grave expression on his face sent chills down my spine. “No, Aria. I was the one whom John tutored. I was his friend. I was the one who pushed for him to join our society. Tristan’s grandfather was always against it.” He exhaled shakily and then continued. “That night, he was inside the tower when John attempted the climb. As far as I know, he was the one who tied the rope.”

23

ARIA

After Professor Watkins’ revelations, celebrating was the last thing on my mind. The party was tradition, though. Officially known as the Study Sessions, it was always held on the first day that A-level exam prep officially began. The reason it was held on that particular day, other than to mark the beginning of our study period and upcoming exams, was because day two of study prep always began after lunch, so we had the morning to sleep off our hangovers. As it was a school tradition, the staff generally turned a blind eye to any shenanigans, as long as the students didn’t go completely wild. 

This year, the party was being held next to the lake where our school water events took place. A large marquee had been set up by the spectator stands with refreshments, seating, and a temporary dance floor complete with a DJ booth. Right now, though, most of the students seemed to be milling about on the grass, enjoying the last rays of the sun before it got dark. 

I picked my way down the path to the lake shore, tucking my hair behind my ear to stop the strands from tickling my face in the soft breeze. A bottle of raspberry vodka dangled from my fingers—my contribution to tonight’s event. After what my professor had told me earlier, all I wanted to do was to drink until I forgot all about towers and secret societies and lies, upon lies, upon lies.

Taking a seat on the grass, I leaned back on my elbows and tilted my head to the sky, watching as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. I had no idea who was telling the truth. Tristan trusted his grandfather, that much was clear. It could be that Professor Watkins was lying, trying to frame himself in a good light. But why would he? 

“I don’t want to have to talk to fucking Tristan,” I muttered to myself, uncapping the vodka and gulping down a generous mouthful. I did my best to breathe through the sudden coughing fit. Ugh. That was stronger than I thought it would be. Raspberry-flavoured petrol. Did people really drink this stuff without a mixer?

Wiping my mouth and capping the bottle again, I rose to my feet and followed the crowd of students heading into the marquee. My senses were immediately assaulted by a wall of noise and smells and heat. The music from the DJ booth, the groups dancing and drinking and shouting over the sounds coming from the speakers, the popcorn and candy floss machines churning out endless salted and sweet offerings, and draped from the ceiling, the glow of the fairy lights cocooning us all inside the billowing canvas.

It was pretty, and I wished I was in the mood to enjoy it. Threading my way through the crowds, I stopped in front of the popcorn machine. There was a stack of recyclable plastic drinking cups next to it, which I assumed were meant for us to use for the popcorn. When I’d filled one of the cups with warm, salted popcorn, I made my way over to the side of the tent, away from the dance floor, placing my overflowing cup on one of the tiny plastic tables that were dotted around the edges of the marquee.

Licking my lips to remove the salt after a large mouthful of popcorn, I debated whether to risk another swig from my bottle of vodka to quench my thirst.

If I was honest with myself, quenching my thirst wasn’t the reason I’d brought the vodka with me. In truth, I wanted to forget my worries and try to enjoy the party, but maybe I should pace myself.

Thankfully, the decision was made for me.

“Aria! There you are.” Gracelyn and Samira appeared on either side of me. Gracelyn slid her arm through mine while Samira liberated the bottle from my grip, taking a long swig. She immediately began coughing and choking, frantically wiping at her mouth.

“What the fucking fuck, Aria? Where did you get this? This is not Smirnoff.” 

“Gimme.” Gracelyn held out her hand, and when Samira gave her the bottle with a warning look, she took a small, cautious sip. “Ugh! No, I agree with Mira. Did you get this from the dodgy shop by Nottswood train station?”

I had, actually.

“No! Okay, yes. I didn’t know there was anything wrong with it.”

“Don’t buy from there. They sell bootleg shit,” Grace advised, tipping the bottle to her lips again.

“And you’re still drinking it…why?”

“To get drunk.” She shrugged, handing the bottle to her girlfriend, who stared at it for a second before also shrugging and drinking from it.

My fingers curled around the fake Smirnoff. “Give it to me. I need to get drunk more than you two do.”

I meant those words.

Thankfully, the maybe-vodka worked its magic. Between the three of us, we drained the bottle, and everything became a blur.

24

TRISTAN

“Mate, you’ve got to try this.” Blaine pressed a shot glass into my hand, and I tipped it to my lips without even checking the contents. Not the brightest idea, but it was probably okay if it came from him. 

“Ugh! Fuck! What was that?” I grimaced at the overly sweet flavour. Blueberry? Blackberry? Something like that.

“Don’t worry about that. Have another.”

I shrugged and downed another shot, then ditched the glass and made a circuit of the marquee. It took a while because people kept coming up to me to congratulate me on our recent lacrosse win and to ask what I thought about our chances of winning the league in our final game. It would come down to us winning our game and St. Peter’s losing their game, so in a sense, it was out of our hands. I knew we could easily win our game after all the prep we’d done, but I wasn’t so sure if Burford would be able to beat St. Peter’s.

Another thing that delayed me as I made the rounds was the steady stream of girls coming up to me, batting their lashes, sliding their arms around my waist, flirting obsessively. All the usual, and normally I loved it, but a certain raven-haired little scorpion with soft honey eyes and a viciously sharp tongue had wormed her way into my brain. That was a big problem and one I didn’t yet have a solution to.

I detached yet another girl from my person with a sigh, smoothing out my T-shirt where she’d rucked it up. Shit, was my hair okay after that other girl had touched it? Pulling my phone free from my pocket, I flipped on the selfie camera and spent a minute rearranging my hair to my satisfaction. That done, I continued on, ducking outside when I’d finally completed a full circuit of the marquee.

Out here, the air was cooler, and it was a relief after the stifling atmosphere in the tent. Fairy lights had been strung up between the marquee and the spectator stands, which were currently roped off, off limits to students tonight.

In the roped-off stands, a flash of shimmering black caught my eye, and I was moving before I’d made a conscious thought to. I took in the scene in an instant—Aria, reclining back across the seats with her mouth set in a grimace, and Graham leaning over her, his hand moving up her fucking thigh as he kissed her neck.

I saw red. Grabbing a handful of his shirt, I yanked him off her, sending us both staggering backwards.

“What the fuck!” he roared, twisting around and tearing himself out of my grip.

I drew my fist back and punched him square in the jaw. He reared back, swaying on his feet before lunging at me with his arms swinging.

“Stay the fuck away from her,” I snarled, ducking out of the way of his fists and getting him in a headlock. 

“Fuck you, wanker.”

We grappled for a moment longer, and it was already getting tiring. Did he seriously think he had any chance against me? He was just wasting his energy at this point. Not to mention, the fucker was messing up my hair when I’d only just restyled it. Bellend.

“Do I need to remind you who the fuck you’re dealing with? I can end you—” I snapped my fingers. “—just like that.”

My words hit home, and the fight instantly went out of him. “Fuck you. Fine,” he spat, holding up his hands as he backed away from me, tripping over his own feet. “Enjoy the freak. She’s like a dead fish, anyway.”

“What the hell did you say?” I lunged for him again, but arms came around me, holding me back. I struggled against the tight grip. “Let me go!”

“Tristan. Don’t,” Roman hissed in my ear. I blinked, realising we’d attracted a crowd. Fuck.

“Did you hear what he said about Aria? Ro, I need⁠—”

“Yeah, I did. Stop fucking struggling. We’ll deal with it. You deal with your girl.”

He released me, and the next moment, Knox came out of nowhere with another punch to Graham’s jaw. This time, he went down, accompanied by several cheers from the small crowd.

“Don’t you dare talk shit about any of our girls again. Don’t you dare even fucking breathe near them,” he said, low and threatening. Trusting my friends to deal with it, I turned away, shaking out my stinging fist. Aria was my priority now.

When I reached her, she was making an attempt to sit up, rubbing at her head. Her hair was a mess, her eye make-up was smeared all over her face, and her eyes were so bleary I’d be surprised if she could even see.

“Tristan?” she slurred, her gaze unfocused, and rage filled me again. How fucking dare he? Taking advantage of someone in this state. I should’ve done more than punch him. I should’ve broken his hand, permanently, so he could never touch someone again.

Exhaling heavily, I pushed my anger aside for now. “Little scorpion,” I said softly, helping her upright. She instantly curled into me, resting her body weight against my chest, trusting in a way she’d never be if she was sober. I brushed some of her hair away from her face, and she nuzzled into my hand.

“Missed you,” she murmured.

“I missed you, too, baby.” There was no harm in admitting the truth. It was unlikely she’d remember any of this tomorrow, not with the state she was in.

She licked her lips. “I-I think I’m drunk.”

“Yeah. I think you are, too. Want to stay here, or do you want me to take you somewhere more comfortable where you can lie down?”

“Lie down,” she whispered.

“Okay. Hold on.” Carefully scooping her up into my arms, I carried her out of the stands. The crowd had dispersed, with just my two best mates remaining.

Knox glanced from me to Aria, his brows pulled together. “Need us to do anything?” 

“Or get the girls?” Roman added.

I shook my head. “It’s okay. I’ve got it. If I need anything, I’ll text you. I’m gonna take her back to our room and keep an eye on her.” Glancing down at Aria, I found her eyes closed, her head lolling to the side, and I adjusted her position so her head was supported by my arm. I looked back at my friends. “Thanks.”

Roman nodded. “We’ve got your back.”

Knox’s lips curved into a smug grin. “And you’ve got Aria’s. Go and take care of your girl. We’ll take care of things here.”

“This doesn’t mean what you think it means, so don’t get any ideas,” I warned, but they just looked at each other and laughed. Dickheads.

I turned towards the school, but instead of making my way up the lit pathways where people would see us, I took the long way around, keeping to the shadows. My arms were aching by the time we reached my room, despite the fact that Aria was so tiny, and after carefully lowering her onto the bed, I shook them out with a groan of relief.

A hand curled around my wrist before I could move. “Don’t go. Need…need to talk.”

Aria’s eyes were still closed, but her grip was strong.

“Alright. I’m just gonna get you some water. I’ll be back in a second, and then I’ll stay with you. Want me to get anything for you to change into?”

“Want yours…” She trailed off. Her words were mumbled, but I heard them clearly enough. She wanted to wear something of mine?

I dug out a soft black T-shirt from my drawers. It was a loose fit on me, so it would be huge on her and hopefully comfortable enough to sleep in. “Here. Do you think you can manage to change? I don’t want to undress you while you’re like this⁠—”

“I can manage,” she slurred, some of her usual fire returning to her voice, and I smiled. As I helped her upright, propping my pillows behind her back, she blinked down at the T-shirt. “It’s black.”

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “You like wearing black.” Before she could read anything into that, I stepped back and turned away, leaving her to get changed while I dug out a sick bowl and paracetamol. When I’d done that, I filled a pint glass with water from the drinking fountain in the corridor and returned to my room.

While I was sorting everything out, Aria had managed to put my T-shirt on, leaving her dress and bra in a crumpled heap on the floor. Scooping them up, I placed them on my desk chair, realising as I did so that her shoes were nowhere to be seen.

“Where are your shoes?”

“Huh?” Her lashes fluttered, her brow furrowing. “Oh. Forgot to take them off…sorry.”

“It’s okay. Don’t move. I’ll take them off.” I lowered myself to the edge of the bed, sliding my hand beneath the duvet to reach her feet. As I unstrapped her shoes, she groaned.

“I feel so drunk.”

“You are drunk, baby. Take those paracetamols and drink all that water, okay? It’ll help. Do you know what you drank?”

She was silent for a moment, following my instructions to take the tablets, and downed a third of the pint. Wiping at her mouth, she nodded her head slowly. “Raspberry vodka…from the shop⁠—”

“By the train station?” I finished. No wonder she was wasted.

“Yes.”

“Okay. You can sleep it off now, and tomorrow, I’ll sneak down to the kitchens and charm Mrs. Smith so she’ll make you a bacon roll.”

“Will you stay?”

“Yeah. I’ll stay in Knox’s bed. He never uses it—he sleeps in his private room in the crypts with Elena.”

“Stay here. With me. Please,” she whispered, making an attempt to pat the sliver of space next to her.

Fuck. Okay. This means nothing, Tristan. She’s drunk and wants comfort. It would be the same with whoever was here.

While she lay down, her eyes fluttering closed again, I changed into cashmere joggers and a fresh T-shirt and then slid into my bed next to her. It was a tight fit, but as soon as she curled into me with a sigh, resting her head on my chest, I forgot all about the lack of space. Wrapping my arm around her and tugging her closer, I closed my own eyes, although I knew sleep wouldn’t come.

25

ARIA

My head felt as if it was simultaneously being squeezed in a vice and attacked by hundreds of tiny hammers. I groaned, shifting and then freezing in place when I realised I was pressed up against a body. A warm, solid body with a muscular arm that was wrapped around me, holding me securely in place.

“How are you feeling?” a voice asked, all soft and raspy from sleep. Last night came flooding back to me. Drinking to forget…Graham…Tristan appearing…had he carried me somewhere?

“Where—” I cleared my throat when my voice cracked and tried again. “Where am I?”

“In my room. You should probably drink some water and have more tablets.”

Oh. Oh. I was in Tristan’s room. No. Not only in his room but in his bed, with him. I groaned again, wishing I was having a drunken hallucination.

“I’m sorry.”

He huffed out a breath, tickling my face as a few flyaway strands of hair blew across my cheek. “No need to apologise. We’ve all been there.” His tone was cautious, and I wondered if he expected me to be angry about the fact we were in bed together. I was pretty sure I’d been the one to ask him to stay, though, if my hazy memories could be trusted.

Now I was here…I had no excuse not to talk to him about the information I’d discovered yesterday.

I groaned again as the hammering in my head increased. I’d talk to him…after I’d medicated.

Forty minutes later, I was feeling much more human. Tristan had managed to sweet-talk one of the kitchen staff into making us bacon rolls, the tablets were working their magic, and I’d forced down two full pints of water. Sitting up in his bed, leaning against the wall, I dabbed my face with a tissue, doing my best to remove some of my smeared make-up without the use of proper make-up remover.

Balling up the tissue, I gave it up as a lost cause. Tristan had seen me at my worst, anyway, not that I needed to impress him, and there was no one else here. I had no idea where Roman was, but it was just the two of us for now.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet Tristan’s gaze. He was seated on Roman’s bed, his posture seemingly relaxed, although the muscle ticking in his jaw gave him away. “Tristan. I need to speak to you.”

“About what? Look, I didn’t mean to punch Graham. It was just⁠—”

“What? No. I’m glad you punched him.” My mouth twisted as I remembered his clammy hand on my leg, his beer breath hot on my face… When Tristan had pulled him off me, I’d been preparing to knee him in the balls.

“Okay, then. In that case, the bastard got what was coming to him.” He flashed me a quick, slightly uncertain grin.

“He did.” I smiled back, and his grin widened. I cleared my throat, my smile disappearing as I thought about what I had to tell him. “I wanted to talk to you about something Professor Watkins told me yesterday during our supervised study period.”

“What is it?”

As I went through everything that had happened, Tristan became visibly agitated, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. When I finished recounting the event, he got up and began pacing.

“I don’t understand. This makes no sense. My grandfather wouldn’t lie to me. Would he?” He stopped dead, his face paling beneath his tan. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?” I sprang to my feet, rushing over to him and gripping his arms. “What is it?”

“I can’t tell you.” The anguish in his voice took me aback.

“Tell me. Please.”

“It just—fuck! It all adds up. That’s why he tried so hard to make sure John’s family was provided for. Not because he was his friend and wanted to make sure his family was taken care of. And—oh, shit. That was why he was so insistent that your grandmother didn’t find out about the money. He didn’t want her looking too deeply into it and finding out the real reason.”

Money? “Tristan, what money?”

“Fuckfuckfuck.” He tugged at his hair. “I don’t know how to say this. Please don’t shoot the messenger. I didn’t know anything about this until that night at the manor, and neither my parents nor your grandparents are aware, either. Unless he was lying about that, too.”

“Tristan. What money?”

His eyes met mine, and his expression chilled me. I sank down onto Roman’s bed, clasping my shaking hands together as I braced myself for whatever he was about to say.

“My grandfather is the one who has been paying your school fees.”

INTERLUDE

“Go. I will deal with the evidence.” The hooded figure swept his arm out. “Leave your robes.” When the room was empty, he slumped to the floor, allowing himself a moment to fall apart. How could it have gone so horribly wrong? He thought back to the beginning of the ritual…

The rumble of thunder was so loud it rattled the windows. The hooded figure’s palms were sweating as he adjusted the knot securing it to the iron ring embedded in the bell tower wall. His fingers slipped, and he readjusted it, loosening the rope just enough.

Above him, the bell began to toll.

One…two…three…four…all the way up to twelve. The final chime seemed to echo off the stones, accompanied by the howl of the wind. The figure could’ve sworn he still heard the cry of the eagle, whipped away by the wind.

The student who had been pulling the ropes that controlled the bell slumped against the wall, rubbing his palms together. “One of you can take a turn next time. My palms have been cut to shreds, doing this for the entire day. See?” He held up his blistered, bloodied hands, and the student closest to him shrank back at the sight.

“Enough,” the hooded figure instructed. Releasing the rope that snaked out of the window, all the way down the side of the tower to the ground outside, he moved to stand in the position he’d marked out on the floor in chalk earlier that day. “Come. Let us prepare.”

The members of the Brotherhood gathered around the chalk circle, each covering their heads with their hoods, as was the custom. Their leader held up an ornate knife, the blade glinting in the candlelight. 

“In nomine iustitiae, omnia iustificata.”

As soon as he’d intoned the words, he sliced the blade across his palm in a shallow cut. Stretching his arm out into the centre of the circle, he let a drop of blood fall to the floor, then handed the knife to the person to his right. The ritual was repeated until every member of the Brotherhood had an identical slash of red on their palm, the floorboards beneath them stained with scattered droplets of blood.

“The initiation shall be recorded in the book.” The figure stepped towards the table, putting pen to parchment. When everything had been noted down, he raised his head. “When our initiate reaches the top of the tower, he will complete his part of the blood ritual and become a member of the Brotherhood.”

The members bowed their heads, chanting as one.

“So it is written. So it is decided.”

“It is time for the task to begin,” their leader declared, and the lamp was lit, signalling that their initiate should begin the climb.

Then, there had been the awful jerk of the rope, followed by the cry that would forever haunt his nightmares.

This was never supposed to happen. He had planned everything so perfectly. He’d been so sure that nothing would go wrong.

He hadn’t accounted for the determination of the initiate. He hadn’t accounted for the storm.

Footsteps sounded, and the figure scrambled to his feet. A member of the Brotherhood appeared in the doorway, panting, his eyes wild. “Hurry! The night watchman is making his rounds! We cannot risk being connected to the body.”

The body.

“P-pull up the rope and place it with the robes. I will burn them away from the school grounds, away from any risk of discovery,” the figure instructed hoarsely. “We cannot allow the accident to be traced back here.”

With trembling hands, the figure began to gather up the evidence as quickly as he could, hesitating a moment before tearing the incriminating pages from the notebook.

The Brotherhood would end tonight. No one could ever find out the part they had played in the death of John William Scott.

The part he had played.

26

ARIA

The Uber dropped me off outside the front entrance of Nottswood Magistrates’ Court. I’d prepared as much as I possibly could, but it was impossible to fully prepare for something like this. Everything Tristan had told me made sense when I looked at it through Professor Watkins’ lens, but it was so much to get my head around. I felt angry, hurt, betrayed, embarrassed…so many different emotions were rolling through me that my head was spinning. But I’d locked them all down tightly. I couldn’t afford to show anything that could be perceived as a weakness. Samuel Smith-Chamberlain was a powerful, intimidating man, and I needed to keep all my wits about me if I wanted to find out the truth.

Entering the court, I was stopped in my tracks by a voice coming from the bank of lifts to the left of the reception area. “Aria?”

I glanced over at the receptionist, who was busy tapping at her computer keyboard while speaking into a headset, and then, making a snap decision, darted over to Knox’s dad. This way, I didn’t have to check in to the building and have to come up with an excuse for being here.

“Mr. Ashcroft.” I eyed the teetering stack of folders in his arms. “Can I help you carry some of those folders?”

His brows rose, but he nodded. “Thank you. That would be great. I didn’t want to make two trips from the car, but perhaps I should have.”

He pressed the lift button with his elbow, and I took a moment to scan the list of names on the plaque affixed to the wall so I knew where I needed to go. Second floor, room 202.

When we entered the lift, he cleared his throat. “Are you going to tell me the reason for your unexpected visit?”

“I’m here to see the judge.” I met his gaze, daring him to say anything, and he shot me an amused look, so much like Knox’s that I startled.

“I hope you’re not in any trouble with the law.”

“Me too.” My words came out far more seriously than I’d planned, and his humour died away.

“Aria, are you in trouble? If you need any help, just say the word.” He glanced around us, even though we were the only occupants of the tiny lift and lowered his voice. “Be careful with Jack. He didn’t become one of the most esteemed judges in the south for no reason.”

“I…I’m okay. Um…it’s not the judge I wanted to speak to. It’s his dad. Tristan’s grandfather, that is. He’s here, right?” I faltered. When I’d contacted Tristan’s mother on the pretence of needing to speak to his grandfather about a graduation gift, she’d assured me he would be found hanging around Jack’s office, advising him in an unofficial capacity.

“Samuel?”

“Yes. I just need to speak to him about something. Um, it’s to do with the former secret society at Hatherley Hall.” 

He inhaled sharply. “Knox asked me about that. I wish I had some information to give you, but my father never told me anything while he was alive.” The lift came to a stop, the doors sliding open, and he tilted his head towards the left in an invitation. “I strongly suggest you come with me. Maybe I can help.”

Could I trust him?

I hesitated until the lift doors began to close again, and he stuck out his foot to stop them. Then, I squared my shoulders and stepped out of the lift.

Knox’s family had welcomed Elena as one of their own, treating her like a daughter. Knox himself only ever had high praises for his dad, wanting to follow in his footsteps in becoming a successful lawyer. If I had to place my trust in any parental figures of the elite, it would be the Ashcrofts. I knew they were friendly with Tristan’s parents, but they were good, honest people. The Smith-Chamberlains, though…I hoped—no, I had to believe that they were the same, too. If Tristan’s grandfather had been telling the truth about one thing, I prayed it was that his parents knew nothing about what had happened.

So maybe if I gave Mr. Ashcroft a little summary, without obviously incriminating anyone—you know, since he was a lawyer, it could be my insurance if Tristan’s grandfather decided to bury me alive or something.

I continued to give myself outlandish worst-case scenarios in my head as I followed Mr. Ashcroft through the building, but it was only to try and make myself feel better. The truth was, I was afraid of what Samuel Smith-Chamberlain might do to me.

Tristan’s family were the most powerful family in Nottswood for a reason.

27

TRISTAN

“Iam going to kill Aria Harper when I get to her,” I vowed aloud, increasing the pressure on the accelerator until my Aston Martin was flying down the road, eating up the distance between me and the most annoying, irritating person to ever exist.

The person who, somehow, had managed to get so under my skin that the only way I could get her out would be with surgical removal. What had possessed her to go and confront my grandfather? If anything happened to her⁠—

I slammed my hands down on my steering wheel as I came to a screeching stop at a set of traffic lights, jamming my foot down on the brake pedal. I was aware that Knox and Roman were following somewhere behind me, although I’d left them for dust as soon as we’d disappeared out of sight of Hatherley Hall’s gates.

Thank fuck for Knox’s dad. He’d called Knox as soon as he’d spoken to Aria. She hadn’t told him much, but what she had said was enough to set alarm bells ringing. 

We’d immediately taken action.

Part of that action was to contact my parents and let them know what was happening. It was a gamble, but if they already knew, we were no worse off than we had been before, and if they didn’t…I hoped to fuck they’d do the right thing.

Throwing my car around the corner, I screeched to a halt in the private car park of Nottswood Magistrates’ Court, right next to Knox’s dad’s Lambo. I ignored the sign telling me that unauthorised parking was subject to a fine and vehicle clamping and ran for the doors that led into the building. Knox’s dad had told us he’d been stalling Aria for as long as possible, trying to make sure she was really okay and wasn’t going to do anything impulsive, but I’d just received a message to say she’d given him the slip while he went to get a coffee.

Of course she had. Once my girl set her sights on something, nothing would stand in her way.

When I made it up to the second floor, I took a moment to catch my breath, reminding myself of where my uncle’s office was. Once I’d reacquainted myself with the building’s layout, I jogged down the hallway, avoiding the tripping hazard of the raised carpet tile on the left next to the noticeboard. I ignored the security cameras—no court sessions were happening this late, so it was doubtful anyone would be watching the second-floor interior feeds live, and if they were, I’d just have to deal with that when it came to it. The only important thing right now was getting to Aria and making sure she was okay.

Reaching my uncle’s office, I cracked open the door, just enough to catch a glimpse of the people inside and to hear what they were saying. 

My uncle was nowhere to be seen, but I immediately caught sight of my grandfather seated in the leather swivel chair behind my uncle’s desk, his face an expressionless mask as Aria faced him down. She was standing on the other side of the desk, leaning forwards with her fingers curved around the edge, her nails pressing against the polished walnut surface.

“Is it true? Did you cause my great-uncle’s death? Did you pay my way through school as some kind of fucking guilt trip?” Her shouted words reverberated around the room, and I saw my grandfather flinch before he quickly composed himself, rising to his feet.

“Watch your tone, young lady.”

“I will not watch my tone,” she ground out. “Tell me the truth.”

“Miss Harper, I’m afraid you are mistaken. If you insist on continuing this line of questioning, it will not end well for you.”

“Stop lying to me!” She slammed her fists down on the desk, and I couldn’t stand by any longer.

I burst into the room, startling both of them. Aria spun towards me, wide-eyed, and my grandfather looked…he looked resigned.

I had no idea what was happening between me and Aria at the moment, especially after she’d walked out on me this morning, but right now, it was important to show a united front. Stepping up next to her, I discreetly skimmed my hand over her back before giving my grandfather a hard stare. “Grandfather. You will explain. I want the truth this time.”

“I told you not to discuss the things I had told you with anyone else. You may be a Smith-Chamberlain, Tristan, but you are not above reproach.”

“Same goes for you.” It took everything I had to keep my voice even, but I knew my best chance of getting through to him was to remain calm. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I held up the screen towards him so he could see the photos we’d taken of the pages we’d found when we’d been snooping in the manor. I scrolled through the images, moving on to the pictures of the box and its contents.

His hand clamped over his mouth, and finally, I saw real emotion in his eyes.

“Yes, we know,” I said, taking my chance and running with it. “Extensive research. We know what really happened that night, and we know how you hid the evidence, covering it up so you’d never be implicated in John’s death. We know that you were the one in charge of the rope. It was you.” I banged my finger on the desk, just for emphasis. “We. Know. The. Truth.”

“You know nothing.”

“Really? So if I went to the police with this evidence, or if I presented it to a lawyer, they’d have nothing to say?”

He laughed humourlessly. “I run this town. I’m not afraid of threats from a silly boy who doesn’t know his place.”

Fuck, it hurt that my own grandfather was talking to me with so much disdain, but it meant he was feeling threatened. I’d never been so fucking fearful about confronting someone before, but I couldn’t falter now, and I couldn’t allow myself to show even a hint of weakness in front of him.

I swallowed, reminding myself of why I was here and who I was doing this for. It was enough. My resolve strengthened, I met his gaze without flinching. “You did run this town, but you don’t anymore. The new generation of Smith-Chamberlains has taken your place. And you know what? One day, this ‘silly boy’ will be the one in charge.” I squared my shoulders, folding my arms across my chest as I stared him down. “Are you going to do the right thing?”

He stared at me. “If your father could see you now… I’ve said this before, but you do remind me of myself, you know.”

Next to me, Aria exhaled unsteadily, sliding her foot over to press her ankle against mine. I allowed myself a small, private smile. I fucking adored this girl.

Holding my grandfather’s gaze, never allowing myself to falter, I spoke again. “Grandfather. Frankly, I don’t care whether or not I remind you of yourself. What I want is for you to do what’s right. We already know everything. You owe us the truth, and we’re not going to leave until we hear it from your mouth.”

“I…” he began, his composure shattering right in front of me. “Y-you must understand. The Brotherhood was exclusive. The members were hand-picked. The elite of the elite. The cream of the crop. I was their leader, and it was up to me to preserve and maintain the status quo. When Michael—your Professor Watkins—came to me after he’d become friendly with the scholarship boy and said he wished for him to join us…well, I immediately dismissed him.” His mouth twisted. “He wouldn’t be dissuaded, though. He managed to get to several of the other members and convince them we needed new blood. I was outvoted, and John was to join.”

“Would it really have been that bad for him to join?” Aria had regained her composure, outwardly calm, although I could hear the sadness in her voice.

“Yes, Aria. You must understand that. It would have diluted our legacy⁠—”

I had never tried harder to prevent an eye roll than I did right then. Diluted their fucking legacy. Who the fuck cared? Okay, I was probably being hypocritical, given my position in the school and family status, but⁠—

Wait a minute. This was why I had separated myself from Aria in the first place. My parents had made it clear that I was expected to make friends with the right kind of people, and even though Aria was their goddaughter, they had never viewed the two of us as equals. I might have done it for my own reasons—keeping Aria away from my parents’ scrutiny and judgement of the elite—but the fact was, I’d still separated myself from her.

Cutting my grandfather off mid-sentence, I turned to Aria. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for everything. I should never have listened to my parents back then.” I knew she’d understand what I was referring to by “back then.” “You deserve fucking everything. I just…I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough.”

She sighed. “You were a child, Tris.”

“Yeah, but so were you. You were one of my best fucking friends, and I discarded you like you meant nothing to me when the truth was, you meant everything to me.”

“Tristan—”

“Well, this is all very touching.”

I tore my gaze away from Aria, masking my expression as I returned my attention to my grandfather. “Continue.”

“Really, you can’t⁠—”

“Con-fucking-tinue. Now.”

His lip curled, but then he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “It appears you know everything already. To cut a long story short, I was against John joining the Brotherhood from the very beginning, and I remained against it until the end. I had to protect our society, and so I did what I had to.”

“To kill him?” Aria whispered.

“Kill him?” The shock on my grandfather’s face was genuine. “No. No, no, no. I only wanted to give him a scare. I loosened the rope enough to make him fall. I hadn’t…I hadn’t planned on him making it so far up the tower before he fell.”

“You might as well have killed him,” Aria snarled. “You loosened the rope, and he fell to his death.”

My grandfather shook his head. “Aria. When he fell, the rope remained connected. We thought…I thought perhaps the inclement weather had caused the accident.”

“You’re lying to us, and you’re lying to yourself.”

There was a long, long silence. His head bowed, and his body seemed to fold in on itself, suddenly seeming so small. When he looked up again, I was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “I am an old man now. What can they do to me?” He met Aria’s gaze. “I do not know for certain whether John would have managed that climb in the storm, but had I not loosened the rope…well. I am deeply sorry. Truly. There is no way I can ever justify my actions. I’ve done my best to make it up to your family, and I’ve ensured you have a bright future ahead of you.”

“I would have had that with or without your blood money,” Aria snapped. “Don’t think you can take any of the credit.”

“She’s right.” I glanced over at her, pride filling me at her defiance as she stared my grandfather down fearlessly. “Aria Harper is a fucking incredible woman, and none of that is thanks to you.”

“I…well…”

“I think we’ve heard enough.”

The three of us startled at the new voice. Knox’s dad strode into the office, followed by my uncle and my two best mates.

“Got it all recorded.” Roman tapped his phone, shooting me a grin.

“Oh.” Aria’s mouth curved downwards. Why was she upset about that? “I recorded it, too.” She lifted the flap of the tiny bag she had strapped across her body. “I ruined this bag for the cause. See? I cut a hole in it for the phone camera. You’re telling me it was for no reason?”

I smiled. Could this woman be any more fucking perfect? “I’ll buy you a new one,” I said.

Her expression hardened, giving me sudden whiplash. “You won’t be buying me anything. Not now and not in the future. I’ve had enough of your family’s tainted money,” she bit out. “In fact, I’ve had enough of your family, full stop. I’ll send my video to Knox. Please don’t contact me again. I mean it.” Before I could even think of how to reply to that statement, she pushed past me, sweeping out of the room and out of my life.

There was a shocked silence left in her wake. Ignoring the glances my friends were shooting me, I slumped back against the wall, rubbing my hand over my face. What the hell was happening? We’d been united a minute ago, and now, there was a gulf between us that I had no idea how to breach.

28

ARIA

The nail technician swept the brush across my thumbnail, coating it in a deep, glossy black. Next to me, Quinn was picking out her chosen shade of polish, eventually settling on a royal blue and navy combination matching our school colours.

“Hopefully, this will bring us luck. It’s the final lacrosse game tomorrow. Are you coming?”

I shook my head, staring down at my hands as, one by one, my bare nails were coated in black. “No. I can’t. I don’t want to see Tristan.”

“Aria…”

“Quinn.” Elena shook her head. She leaned around Quinn to look at me. “No one expects you to come. But…but you know that what happened wasn’t Tristan’s fault, right?”

I did know that. Logically. Illogically, a part of me had been irreparably hurt by all the revelations. A big part. I’d made the decision to keep the truth of how my great-uncle had died from my grandparents. I knew it would be far too upsetting, and I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting them, even though it wouldn’t be my fault. So I couldn’t talk to them about it, and I couldn’t even talk to my two closest friends about it properly because they were too close to Tristan’s best friends.

“I know it wasn’t his fault.” That apology he’d given me at the courts… The truth was written all over his face. How deeply sorry he was. But I knew that was the guilt talking. Anyone who wasn’t a monster would feel remorse. Finding out a close family member, someone you had looked up to all your life, had done that? I couldn’t even imagine. 

But it didn’t mean anything. Not really. I’d accepted his apology, but it was best for everyone to draw a line under it all. Nothing had changed. The obstacles between us were still there, even if there had been a universe where he wanted something real with me. As soon as my exams were over, I’d leave Hatherley Hall and Nottswood behind, and I wouldn’t look back. I had offers from four different universities, and no matter which of the four I chose, I’d finally have a chance to put everything behind me and have a fresh start.

As for the money…there was no way I could pay my school fees back now, but the rest…I was going to put every penny aside to make my grandparents’ life easier in retirement. A little way for Tristan’s grandfather to pay for what he’d done.

“Ro said Tristan’s been really down,” Quinn said quietly. “I’m not saying that to make you feel bad. I’m only saying it so you know he’s been affected by everything, too.”

I sighed. “Yeah. Please can we change the subject now? How’s revision going?”

“It’s…going,” Elena said, placing her hand under the UV lamp to cure her first coat of polish. “I can’t believe it’ll all be over in just a few weeks.” The machine beeped, and she pulled her hand out, lifting it to admire the navy to royal blue ombre effect. 

“That’s so pretty.” Quinn nudged me. “Don’t you even want to get one nail done in our school colours? It might bring you luck in your exams.”

“Oh, fine. If it makes you both happy.” I turned to my nail technician, holding out my left hand, which he hadn’t started working on. “Can you do me one nail in navy? With the school crest in that royal blue?”

“Do you have a picture of the crest?”

“Yes, hang on.” I pulled up the internet browser on my phone. “Here.”

He studied it carefully and then nodded. “I can do that.”

“Thank you.” Maybe it would bring me luck in my exams. Maybe I’d just look at it to remind myself that once my exams were over, I could start again, that Hatherley Hall would one day be a memory, easily wiped away to be replaced by something newer and better.

All I had to do was to get through the next few weeks, and then I’d be free.

“Aria. Thank you for returning our call.”

I leaned back on my bed, balancing my phone on my thigh. My dorm room was currently empty, and so I’d decided that I might as well take the opportunity to get this conversation over with. I’d had four missed calls, two voicemails, and a text message today, and there was only so long I could avoid my godparents without the guilt setting in.

“What did you want?”

“Well, we-we wanted to apologise. Tristan told us everything. I want you to know that we had no idea that Samuel was involved in your great-uncle’s passing.” My godmother sniffed. Was she crying? 

My godfather’s voice came through the speaker. “She’s right. Please believe me when I say that if we’d had any inkling⁠—”

“Aria, darling. I am so, so sorry. How can we make it up to you?”

“Oh…um…” It really wasn’t their fault. They’d been as much in the dark as the rest of us. Knox’s dad and Tristan’s uncle had had a long talk with Tristan’s grandfather, and I’d learned that the Brotherhood had sworn an oath to cover up what had happened that night. They’d hidden the evidence and disbanded the society to protect themselves and had never spoken of it again. It would have been a secret they’d have taken to the grave if I hadn’t found the box that night.

That box had unleashed a chain of events none of us had seen coming.

“It wasn’t your fault,” I reassured my godmother. “I don’t blame either of you. I just…it’s a lot to deal with. I’ll be taking some time away once the exams are over.”

“Of course,” Gregory said. “Whatever we can do to help… We’re at your disposal. Money, a car, a place to live…whatever you need, we can provide as your godparents. We don’t want you to feel like we’re doing this out of guilt. You’re our goddaughter, and that isn’t going to change.”

My lip trembled, and I bit down on it fiercely, the metallic tang of blood hitting my tongue. “You were manipulated into becoming my godparents.”

“Manipulated or not, you are our goddaughter, and we care for you very much.” Jane’s voice wobbled. “What Samuel did was abhorrent, but it brought you to us, and I shall never regret that.”

“Hear, hear.” My godfather cleared his throat. “As I said, we are at your disposal. Don’t be afraid to ask us for anything.”

“Th-thank you.”

“I understand if you feel as if you need some distance, but will you consider seeing us soon? Perhaps a luncheon or something. We don’t want you to push us away.”

No matter what had happened, no matter what was going on with Tristan, no matter how misguided they were…they’d done what they thought was best, and I couldn’t hold that against them. “I…I’ll consider it, yes. Thank you both.”

The call ended, and I lay back, rubbing at my eyes. Despite my earlier assurances to myself, my conversation with my godparents had reminded me that I wouldn’t really be able to make a fresh start. Not fully. I’d always have something tying me to Nottswood.

29

ARIA

Hatherley Hall was buzzing. It seemed as if everyone was excited for the final lacrosse game of the year, even those who weren’t normally interested in sports. The truth was, this was a momentous occasion. Our team needed a win against Clifton, and they also needed Burford to win their game against St. Peter’s. If that happened, Hatherley Hall would become the league champions. Sitting cross-legged on my bed, I stared out of the window, watching the figures gathering below, a sea of navy and royal blue with everyone wearing school colours. Some people had even painted their faces in shades of blue.

I inserted my earbuds, pulling up a playlist on my phone to drown out the noise that I could hear even from this high up. Flipping open my politics textbook, I stared down at the page in front of me, the words swimming before my eyes. 

My phone vibrated.

Two new messages.

My hand trembled as I unlocked my screen and saw who the messages were from.

Tristan:

I know you said you didn’t want me to contact you again but I had to try. Please come to the lacrosse game. It’s important. If you never want to speak to me again after that I understand and I’ll respect your wishes

Please come, Aria

“Oh, fuck,” I whispered. How could he ask me to do that? Why was it so important? Surely he could see that it was better for us both to go our separate ways, especially after everything that had happened?

Me:

I can’t. I’m sorry

Tristan:

Little scorpion. I’m begging you here. Please

A tear fell from my lashes onto the screen. I hadn’t even realised I was crying until then. I pulled up my knees, curling my body over as I buried my head in my arms. I was tired of denying it to myself. The truth was, I missed him so much. Why did I have to fall for the one person who couldn’t be mine?

My phone vibrated again.

Tristan:

Forget my messages. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. For what it’s worth, I understand why you don’t want anything more to do with me and my family. I’ll leave you alone now, you have my word

I threw my phone to the bed and let my tears fall.

When I raised my head again, my eyes swollen and my head pounding, I re-read Tristan’s messages.

Please come to the lacrosse game. It’s important. I’m begging you here.

I did the only thing I could. The thing that I’d known was inevitable the second I’d seen his name on my phone screen. The thing that had been inevitable for much longer than I wanted to admit to myself. I fixed my make-up, removing all traces of my tears, put on my clothes, and after a quick detour to grab an item I knew I’d need, I went to the lacrosse game.

I’d never seen so many people at a game before. The stands were completely full, and extra benches had been brought outside to provide additional seating for both sets of supporters. Even with that, there were still spectators clustered around the edges of the field, standing in little groups, undeterred by the rapidly darkening clouds that held the promise of heavy rain.

Drawing closer to the stands, I scooted around a group of year ten girls dressed in the standard Hatherley Hall uniform, but with their eyelids decorated in glittering blue and the school logo painted on their cheeks. I breathed in as I squeezed past them before giving an apologetic wave as I swerved to avoid a man carrying an armful of water bottles. With this many people around, it was going to be difficult to find a spot to watch the game.

Did I even want Tristan to see me?

I looked down at myself and rolled my eyes. Obviously, you want him to see you, Aria. Otherwise, why would you have broken into his dorm room, stolen his spare lacrosse jersey, and put it on? I hadn’t gone as far as to paint my face in the school colours, but in wearing Tristan’s jersey, I might as well have been carrying a giant sign that said, “Yes, I am gone for Hatherley Hall’s lacrosse captain.”

Ah, well. My pity party for one was over, and I had no fucks left to give. People could think what they wanted. The only thing I needed to do right now was to find a place where Tristan would be able to spot me.

Sidestepping yet another group of students, I came to a halt. Rising onto my tiptoes, I scanned the stands. It was times like this when being short was a real inconvenience. I just needed to…

I ducked under the barrier that separated the spectators from the pitch. Now I was out in the open, I could move quickly and easily. 

I’d just reached the edge of the home stands when the crowd roared, those seated rising to their feet. 

Slowly, I turned around, my stomach sinking. I hadn’t been quick enough. The teams were jogging out onto the field.

My surroundings melted away as my focus narrowed to one person. Hatherley Hall’s team captain, looking every inch the god he said he was, with his perfectly tousled hair and glowing tanned skin, his muscles flexing beneath his uniform as he moved across the grass with his helmet clasped in one hand and his lacrosse stick in the other.

He suddenly faltered, electric-blue eyes arrowing straight to mine. I felt a jolt deep inside me, like I’d been shocked by a bolt of lightning. 

I came alive.

My lips formed his name, but no sound came out as I stood there, vibrating out of my skin, watching as he began to move again, a disbelieving smile curving over his mouth as he drew closer to me.

He really was so fucking beautiful, both outwardly and beneath the surface. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever let myself admit it before. All the reasons I should stay away from him were still there, but I didn’t care. How could I when he was smiling at me like that?

Coming to a stop in front of me, he let his helmet and stick drop to the floor. He looked down at me, his bright eyes shining. “You’re here.”

“Yeah…well, y’know. I didn’t have anything better to do, and the lacrosse captain himself gave me a personal invite, so…” I shrugged.

His smile was so fucking wide. “Is that why you decided to wear his jersey? That’s a pretty big statement, Aria. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

“What would the wrong idea be?”

His smile disappeared. He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat from his body, and I had to tilt my chin up to keep holding his gaze.

“That you care about him,” he said.

I swallowed hard. “Maybe I do.”

Exhaling harshly, he rubbed his hand across his mouth. “Fuck. Aria. Fuck.”

“Did-did I⁠—”

“No!” His eyes widened, alarm flaring in his expression. “Don’t say anything. Give me a second to get my head around the fact that you’re actually here and I’m not just hallucinating it because I want it so badly.”

“Okay,” I whispered. My heart was beating so quickly I felt light-headed.

“Do you mean that?” he said eventually. “That you care about me?”

It was so difficult to admit it to his face, but I managed a nod, knowing my cheeks were flushing red. Before he could respond to that, I asked the question that had been playing on my mind ever since he’d sent me the text. “Tristan, why did you tell me it was important to come to your game today?”

He reached out, cupping my jaw, sliding his thumb back and forth across my skin. “How can I play without my little scorpion to cheer me on?”

“You want me to be your personal cheerleader?”

“No. I want you to be so much more than that.” Releasing my jaw, his hands went to the back of his head. “Here. I didn’t think you’d come, but I wore it just in case.”

I stared as he unclasped a gold chain from around his neck, lifting it from beneath his jersey. Taking my hand, he turned it palm up and let the chain spool into my cupped palm. A little golden lightning bolt was strung from the delicate links, tiny diamonds embedded along its length.

My gaze flew to his, and he blew out a heavy breath. “That night at the manor⁠—”

“Tristan.” Roman came jogging up, obliterating our private bubble, and all at once, the rest of the world came filtering back in. “Everyone’s waiting.”

“Fucking shit timing, mate.”

“Yeah, I know.” Roman shot me a sideways glance, mouthing sorry. “But hey, your girl came.” Tristan punched him in the shoulder, and he laughed, then turned to me. “Quinn and Elena saved you a seat in case you decided to come.”

I nodded, still staring at Tristan. His expression was suddenly defeated, and I couldn’t have that. Closing my fingers around the chain, I reached out with my free hand, gripping his shoulder as I rose onto my tiptoes. “I’ll wait for you,” I whispered into his ear.

When I stepped away, he caught my wrist in his hand, his lips curving upwards. “Where are you going?”

“Um. I’m going to sit down and watch you win this game.”

“You are,” he agreed. “But first, I want a good luck kiss from my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend! That’s a bit presump⁠—”

He shut me up with a kiss, slanting his mouth over mine, still smiling. My whole body was alight, buzzing with euphoria and nerves and so much happiness I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Releasing me, he gave me a brisk nod, his smile turning a little smug. “That’s better. Go and cheer me on, baby. We’ll talk everything through after, okay? But you and me—” He flicked his finger between us. “—this is happening. Any problems with that?”

I sighed loudly. “No one else has the mental fortitude to put up with your dramatics, so I guess I’d be doing everyone a favour.”

I remembered Roman was still standing there when he snorted with laughter. “You two are a match made in heaven. Or hell. Either way, it works. Come on. Saunders looks like he’s about to explode.”

“You’re the dramatic one,” Tristan told me. “I’ll see you after.” 

“Whatever. Don’t you have a game to win? You’re not going to win it standing over here chatting, are you?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Why do I like you so fucking much? I must be insane.”

“You are,” I agreed. “Sorry about that. See you later.”

As he backed away, he gave me the finger, and I returned it with a smile before making my way along the stands towards my friends. 

When I reached them, ducking back under the barrier, they both stared at me with wide eyes.

“What was all that about?” Quinn breathed.

“What’s that in your hand?” Elena asked at the same time.

The whistle blew. I shook my head. “Tell you afterwards.”

30

TRISTAN

Nothing could bring me down. Nothing. Not even the sudden downpour that soaked me to the bone and had the spectators scrambling for shelter. 

Aria had come. She’d come to watch me play, and not only had she told me to my face that she cared about me, but she’d kissed me, too. And now she had the necklace that I’d been holding on to ever since that night at the manor.

She was wearing my jersey as well, and that was a big statement. We both knew it. Everyone would see my name on her back and know she was mine.

I flew down the field into the Clifton end, skidding through the mud as I twisted out of the way of the player marking me. I barely even noticed the dirt splatter up my legs as I sent the ball arcing towards Roman, who raised his stick in perfect synchronisation with my movement and caught it in mid-air. Instantly reacting to the player coming at him, he flung the ball straight at the goal. It was a long shot, but luck was on our side, and somehow, it went in. 1-0 to Hatherley Hall.

We kept pushing and pushing, and we scored again. 2-0. With eleven minutes left on the clock, Clifton scored for the first time, but we were still ahead, and I was determined to keep it that way. Pushing my body as hard as I could go, I shouted instructions at my teammates, along with Saunders, who was doing his usual coaching job of gesturing wildly and screaming at us from the sidelines.

I was dimly aware of a cheer from the home supporters, and as I passed Knox, I heard his shout. “Burford are beating St. Peter’s!”

Fucking yes. I was even more motivated than I had been before, if that was possible. I glanced up at the clock, realising we were almost at the end of the game. The rain was easing up a little, helping with the visibility, and the second Link passed me the ball, I took my chance, launching it in the direction of the net.

My teammates swarmed me as it went in, smacking against the net. We were winning 3-1, and there was no way Clifton could catch up with us now unless we were incredibly unlucky. I got everyone on defence, holding the Clifton players back from our goal for the final couple of minutes of play.

Then, the whistle blew, and it was all over. I glanced over at Saunders, who was holding up his fingers. “4-3 to Burford!” he shouted.

The euphoria that filled me was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. We’d done it. We’d won the league.

Instead of joining my teammates in celebrating, I dropped my stick and ran for the stands, skidding to a halt in front of the barrier separating me from my girlfriend. Drenched, wearing my jersey, her honey eyes sparkling and her lips curved into a beaming smile, she’d never looked better.

“You look so fucking good in my jersey.”

She held out a hand to stop me. “If you say I’d look even better out of it, this’ll be the shortest relationship you’ve ever had.” Her expression was a little uncertain, like she still wasn’t sure I’d meant what I said about her being my girlfriend.

I grinned. “The only relationship I’ve ever had.”

Her uncertainty disappeared as her gaze turned uncharacteristically soft. “Me too.”

I yanked her over the barrier and into my arms, spinning her around as she wound her legs around my waist. She laughed, wild and free, and I joined her. 

Carefully lowering her to the grass, I removed my gloves and helmet, running my hand through my hair where it had been flattened. I glanced down at her jersey with a grimace. “Shit. I got mud all over you.”

“Do I look like I care?” She gestured to herself. “I’m already soaked through. What difference is a bit of mud going to make? And you won. We won! League champions!”

“True. Even so.”

“Tristan. I really don’t care about a bit of mud. You should be celebrating your win.” Pausing, she glanced down at the ground and then back up at me, biting down on her lip. “I’m happy you won, you know. You worked really hard for this, and I’m so proud of you. I don’t want to—” She took in the expectant look I was giving her and sighed. “As well as all that, I’m wondering about this necklace you gave me.” 

When she held up the gold chain, I grimaced. Fuck, now I was going to have to explain, and hoped she understood the significance and wasn’t scared away by it.

“Tristan!”

My head shot around to the stands to see my parents seated with Knox’s mum, dad, and little sister, Quinn’s parents, and Roman’s uncle. My father was waving, and my mother was impatiently beckoning me over.

“Shit,” I muttered. I looked back at Aria. “Do you trust me?”

“Yeah…why?”

I pulled her in the direction of my parents. “Come with me.” Before we reached them, I came to a sudden stop. “Aria? Wait a second. Will you wear the necklace?”

A fucking lump appeared in my throat when she immediately nodded. Sweeping her hair out of the way, I fastened the chain around her neck. 

She was wearing it.

“Okay.” I cleared my throat to get rid of the lump. “Ready to face my parents?”

I didn’t give her any time to stress about it, quickly tugging her towards them. When we reached them, I ducked down so I could see beneath the golf umbrella they were huddling under.

Might as well get the news over with as soon as possible. “Mother. Father. Do you recognise this?” I tapped the lightning bolt that lay against Aria’s breastbone.

My mother gasped, her hand flying to her heart. “Your grandmother’s necklace.”

“Yeah. I got it from Jack’s safe during the party. It legally belongs to me—Father gave me an inventory of all the pieces I was due to inherit when I came of age, and I knew this one had been stored at the manor, so you didn’t take it for yourself.” I shot her an apologetic look. “I didn’t actually think you would really take it, of course. I never even had a say in where all the pieces were stored.” I sucked in a breath. It was the moment of truth. “I hadn’t ever considered giving it to anyone before, but as soon as I remembered it was there, I knew what to do.” 

She stared at me in disbelief. Turning to Aria, I continued. “I got this from the safe that night. Before I knew about the money. Before we found the missing pages. Before…you know. I got it to give to you. I know you don’t want anything else from me, but this is something I wanted to give you before everything happened. It means a lot to me.”

Aria stared down at the ground, twisting her hands together. “Why?” she eventually said, and her voice was uncharacteristically subdued.

“Why? Because I want it to be yours. Because it reminds me of you—you’re the storm, and the lightning, and the person who lights up my world. Because you’re fucking amazing and deserve to be appreciated. Because you mean so much to me.” I paused, looking both of my parents in the eye before I continued, my gaze returning to Aria. “Because I’ve realised the things I used to think mattered don’t matter to me anymore. Because you’re my girlfriend, and I want to be with you. I don’t give a single fuck about what other people think. I’m prepared to walk away from my family…to lose the Smith-Chamberlain name if that’s what it takes.”

“Tristan,” my father bit out. “You cannot possibly⁠—”

My gaze shot to his. “Listen to what I’m saying. I will walk away. I’m not giving you an ultimatum. I’m telling you what will happen if you don’t accept the fact that me and Aria are together.”

His eyes widened as my mother clasped her hands together, her knuckles turning white with her tight grip. “We’re her godparents.”

“So fucking—so what? We’re not related. There’s nothing wrong or immoral or whatever bad things your minds are thinking. Do I need to remind you that my grandfather arranged for this to happen in the first place?”

“Tristan,” Aria whispered. Our eyes met, and I lowered my head, sliding my mouth over hers. Ignoring my mother’s shocked gasp, I picked Aria up and carried her away from them, striding across the field and detouring around the buildings until the two of us were lost in the trees with the misty rain pattering softly on the leaves over our heads. Just me and her, alone. Together.

“Are you okay?” I asked her, lowering her to her feet. 

“I—yeah. Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.” Her hand went to her necklace, her fingertip tracing the shape of the lightning bolt. “When I heard this was your grandmother’s necklace and you’d chosen to give it to me, I…I guess I was wondering if this was all worth it. If I was all worth it. If your parents have a problem with me being with you⁠—”

“No.” I jerked my head towards the direction we’d come from. “What I said back there? I meant every single word. Fucking hell, I know I only just asked you to be my girlfriend, but I’m all in. No regrets, no changing my mind. Okay?”

“You told me to be your girlfriend,” she muttered, aiming for a glare, but the way her lips were curving upwards ruined the effect she was going for.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re stubborn as fuck, and sometimes you need to be told instead of asked.”

“Oh, really?” Her brows rose. “I seem to remember you saying ‘please’ several times in your texts to me.”

“That’s because I know you so well. I know how to handle my little scorpion.”

“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?”

“Probably not.”

She sighed. “Fine. I guess there are worse nicknames.”

I grinned down at her. “It’s okay to admit you love it.”

“Fuck off.”

“Hmm.” I tapped my lips with my finger. “Don’t think I will. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of my company.”

“I hate you.”

“Do you really, though?” Drawing her into me, I wrapped my arms around her waist. “It’s okay to tell the truth. No one else is here to hear you say it. Just you, me, and the forest creatures.”

“Forest creatures.” She huffed out a laugh before winding her arms around my neck, looking up at me with what I knew for a fact was adoration in her eyes, not that she’d ever admit it. How the hell had it taken me so long to lock this girl down?

I kissed the tip of her nose, and she smiled.

“I’m such a good boyfriend,” I said.

“You’re such an arrogant boyfriend. But I guess it’s okay because I like you anyway.” She pulled my head down to her, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I like you quite a lot, in fact.”

My heart felt as if it was going to beat right out of my chest at her confession. Capturing her lips in a kiss, I poured everything I wanted to say into it, without saying the words aloud. She kissed me back almost desperately, pulling me closer and holding on like she never wanted to let me go.

Our romantic moment in the woods turned filthy pretty quickly, with my cock hardening as she ground down on my thigh, breathy little moans falling from her throat. 

“That’s it, baby.” I palmed her ass, angling my thigh so she could ride it harder, wishing it was my dick she was riding instead. There’d be time to take care of my needs later, though. All that mattered at the moment was making her feel good. 

Slipping my hand beneath my jersey—the one she was wearing—I played with her pretty tits, feeling her nipples pebble beneath my fingers as she panted against my chest. Fuck, she was so fucking hot like this, so unrestrained and wild, using me to get herself off right out in the open. My dick was throbbing.

I slid my hand into her leggings and underwear and groaned. “So fucking wet.”

“Tristan. Please. I need⁠—”

“I’ve got you. Ride my fingers.”

Three fingers inside her, my thumb circling her clit, and she cried out, her pussy clenching around me as she came all over my hand. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she chanted, collapsing into me.

I couldn’t fucking handle it any longer. I manoeuvred her backwards until she was supported by the tree behind her, and then I tugged my shorts down, wanking myself hard and fast. I came with a groan, my release hitting the ivy winding around a fallen trunk, decorating the glossy green with stripes of cum.

“Desecrating nature,” Aria said as I wiped off my hand on a large leaf and tugged my shorts back on, still regaining my breath.

“Improving nature,” I corrected. “And now I really fucking need that shower. Want to go and get cleaned up and then meet in the common room? I think it’s time for our public debut.”

“Okay. If you promise never to refer to it as our public debut again.” She stepped towards me, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw. “Tristan. Seriously, though. Thank you. For…for being you. For choosing me.”

“Best decision I ever made.” I kissed her again, losing myself in the slow slide of her mouth against mine.

31

ARIA

The common room fell silent when I walked in, only for the whispers to start up again almost instantly.

“Is it true?”

“Tristan never has a girlfriend. There’s no way.”

“They hate each other.”

“Tristan wouldn’t.”

“She wore his lacrosse jersey to the game.”

I sighed, ignoring the speculation as I stalked into the room, my eyes fixed on a certain smirking god sprawled out in a huge leather wingback chair in the centre of the room. Because of course he had to be the centre of attention.

Reaching him, I swung myself onto his thighs, gripping his shoulders as I slammed my mouth down on his. He laughed against me, his arms wrapping around my back and pulling me closer.

“I was gonna stake my claim, but I guess you got there first.” He kissed the tip of my nose, somehow managing to keep a ridiculously wide grin on his face. My heart skipped a beat.

Oh no. Please. I could not be finding his smugness attractive.

What had this man done to me? He’d scrambled my brains, turned me inside out, and honestly, I couldn’t even bring myself to care.

“Shut up and kiss me again,” I instructed.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly fucking bossy?” Sliding his mouth across mine, he kissed me softly, sweetly.

“Tristan.”

“Aria.” He studied me for a second and then winked at me like an absolute bellend. That was the only warning I got before he suddenly gripped my hips, manhandling me around to face the room with my back to his chest. He pressed another soft kiss to my hair and then cleared his throat. “Yes, everyone. The rumours are true. I am indeed off the market, thanks to the delectable Aria Rose Harper.”

“How did you know my middle name?”

“It was your mum’s name, and you were named after her. I know these things about you.” He kissed my cheek and then continued to address the room. “I apologise for the inevitable broken hearts, but how could I resist this woman?”

“I was sure you hated each other,” one of his former conquests piped up, and I sighed. 

“Things change. We’re together now. Boyfriend and girlfriend. A couple.”

“But—”

Tristan held up his hand. “This is not a Q and A session. We’re together, and we’re happy. Very, very happy.”

There was no possible way I could hold back my smile after his firmly stated words. I placed my hand over the top of his, squeezing lightly.

“Baby. I think I need to leave some more marks on your throat, just to get the point across.”

My breath hitched, and I shifted on his thighs.

“Do I get to do the same to you?” My voice betrayed me, coming out way too breathless.

“Yeah, if you want.” He gripped my thigh, stilling me. “Do you realise you’re giving me a boner right now?”

I shifted again. “I’m aware. I can feel it.”

“Fuck, Aria.” He exhaled harshly. “Want to get out of here?”

“Okay, pay up. Who had the lacrosse game?”

Tristan’s head jerked up, and I followed his stare to where Tyrell was standing in front of the TV screen, holding out his hand.

“What the fuck?” I murmured.

Blaine huffed loudly from his position on one of the sofas, waving his controller in the air. “I had the end of exams party.”

“Me and Ro bet on today.” Knox glanced over at us and smirked.

“I repeat, what the fuck?”

“Yeah.” Tristan clicked his fingers loudly, drawing everyone’s attention. “What the fuck are you all talking about?”

Tyrell pulled a large handful of notes from his pocket, fanning them out. I noticed several fifties in the collection. “We were betting on when the two of you would get together.”

“Yeah, but Roman and Knox are disqualified because they had insider information,” Lincoln pointed out. I stared around the room. Were all their friends in on this bet? Wait, were my friends in on it? Glancing over at Quinn, I found her already looking at me. She was clearly amused, but she quickly shook her head when I caught her eye. I didn’t know, she mouthed, and I smiled. 

“I can’t believe my own friends bet on me,” Tristan muttered as Knox and Roman began arguing that their bets still counted, Tyrell shaking his head insistently.

Twisting on my boyfriend’s lap, I met his gaze. “How did they have insider information?”

He bit down on his lip. “Uh, maybe it was because of the necklace? They knew I had it and I wanted to give it to you. If you hadn’t come to the lacrosse game…”

“I did.” I cupped his jaw. “I still can’t quite believe this is real, but I’m so happy.”

“Me too.” Running his hand through my hair, he leaned forwards to kiss me again. “So happy.”

A throat cleared close to us.

“He was moping around all week before you agreed to be his girlfriend.”

“Our sad boy. He was miserable without you.”

Tristan threw up his middle finger at his two best friends. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to take the piss out of me?”

“Nah. You told us you wanted to stay single. Repeatedly. This is fucking momentous, mate. We need a burial ceremony or something for the old manwhore Tristan Smith-Chamberlain.”

“Yeah. There’s that big tomb in the crypts⁠—”

“Fuck. Off.”

They finally wandered away, laughing to themselves, and Tristan pulled me into him, burying his face in my hair. “I guess they have the right to take the piss. I did insist I’d never end up like them. But you and me…it feels like we were inevitable, doesn’t it?”

I nodded. “Yes. I think we were always inevitable.”

32

ARIA

Tristan slid his fingers between mine as he led me towards the entrance door of the Nottswood Golf & Country Club. “Okay. We have to get through this one luncheon, and then we’re free. If they say anything bad, we leave, okay? I won’t let them put you down. You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go.”

“Yeah, I know.” I really did. Tristan wasn’t someone to make false promises, and I trusted that he meant what he said. It was impossible to misinterpret the way he acted around me, anyway. Somehow, he was just as into me as I was to him. Whether his parents approved of our relationship or not, we were in this together.

We headed through the foyer and into the restaurant. My godparents hadn’t booked a private dining space, which I hoped was a good sign and meant they weren’t planning for anyone to cause a scene, although the table they were seated at was set well away from the other diners.

When we drew nearer to the table, which was set for six people for some reason, Tristan lifted our joined hands. He kissed the back of my hand, raising his brows at Gregory and Jane before releasing me. My godparents exchanged glances as they rose to their feet to greet us, but neither of them commented. 

After greetings had been exchanged and we were seated at the table, I busied myself with spreading my napkin over my lap to hide my shaking hands. I shouldn’t be nervous, but part of me was. I didn’t want Tristan’s parents to be upset with him, and I didn’t want them to blame me, either.

Focus, Aria. You’re strong. You can deal with whatever shit life throws at you.

Straightening my shoulders, I placed my hands on the table and met my godmother’s gaze. She stared back at me, unflinching, and it had the weird effect of relaxing me slightly.

“Let’s talk about the elephant in the room,” Gregory began. “Tristan, we’ve spoken to your grandfather, and I want you to know that we do not condone any of his actions. We’ve made it clear to him that he’s on his own as far as the whole…Brotherhood situation goes.” He turned to me. “Aria. I don’t think I can express just how sorry we are. If we’d had any inkling at all⁠—”

“I know.” I could never be completely sure, but if they had suspicions, I believed they would have at least investigated them.

“Rest assured, he’s been dealt with,” my godfather said firmly, his mouth thinning. “Family or not, we made our position crystal clear.”

“Your mother and father were true friends. I want you to know that. Your mother…well, we were due around the same time, and we bonded over our shared circumstances. We shared our hopes and dreams for our children together, wondering how the future would look for the two of you.” Jane reached out, clasping my hand. “When you were born, you were such a beautiful baby. Like a little doll. Not…that’s irrelevant, really. I wanted to let you know that we were so proud to be entrusted with the privilege of becoming your godparents, and we still are. Your parents would have been proud of you, too.”

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat that made it too difficult to speak.

Tristan shifted his chair close to mine and then lifted his arm, curling it around my shoulders. “Baby,” he murmured, too low for his parents to hear. His thumb stroked across the top of my shoulder in soothing, repetitive movement. 

You know what? I didn’t need anyone in my corner. I was capable of fighting my own battles.

But sometimes, it felt really, really good to have someone to lean on.

Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I found my voice. “What about our relationship?”

Tristan’s parents glanced at each other. The silence seemed to last forever.

Then, Gregory spoke. “Everything that has happened…it led us to reevaluate some things.” He coughed, glancing over at his wife before a slow smile spread across his face. “It forced us to face some truths that perhaps we hadn’t been aware of previously. Yes. You have our blessing.”

“Aria!”

I spun in my seat to be faced with the unexpected sight of my grandparents making their way over to our table. Suddenly, it all made sense—the fact the table was set for six people, and we hadn’t ordered any food yet.

“You’re here!” I jumped to my feet, flinging my arms around them both. They laughed, hugging me back before disentangling themselves from me and greeting Tristan and his parents.

“Thank you for coming,” my godmother said. “I believe we have a few things to celebrate.”

“Aria and Tristan.” The smile from my grandma lit up her face, and when I glanced towards my grandfather, he was beaming just as brightly. “We’re so happy for the two of you.”

My godparents chimed in with their agreement, and then the conversation turned towards Hatherley Hall’s winning lacrosse game, with Tristan giving the highlights to my grandparents. After we’d toasted with champagne, chosen our food and had our orders taken by the staff, I relaxed, leaning back against Tristan’s arm as the conversation continued around me.

I leaned into my boyfriend. How easy it was to think of him as mine, even after such a short amount of time. Knowing he’d been just as worried about today as I was, although he was better at hiding it, I placed my mouth to his ear. “Are you okay?”

He nodded instantly, lowering his hand to discreetly squeeze my thigh beneath the table. “Yeah. I am now.”

33

ARIA

Descending the stairs to the crypts, I trailed my hand along the cool, rough stone that lined the walls. This was the last time I would come down here. Our exams were over, as of a few hours ago, and this was our final celebration before the year thirteen students left Hatherley Hall for good.

I’d miss this place. It had been my home for a long time. The place where I’d received my education. Where I’d found my friends. Where I’d fallen in love.

I had the future to look forward to. A future involving me, Tristan, and Oxford University. And from there…who knew? What I did know was that the two of us would be together, and I couldn’t wait to see what our lives would be like. 

But even with the knowledge of the things I had to look forward to, I still couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of melancholy. I was leaving a huge part of my life behind after tonight, and nothing would be the same.

I reached the bottom stair, taking in the familiar sight of the crowd of students drinking, dancing, and having a good time. Music filled the space, and lights winked on and off, casting long, intermittent shadows and illuminating faces in a kaleidoscope of colours.

The toe of my four-inch spike heel hit the floor a second before hands curled around my waist. I was pulled into a warm, hard body, moving us both back through the crowd until I was pressed up against the wall in the corner of the room.

“Fuck, Aria.” Tristan took a step back, dragging his heated gaze over me from head to toe. “I don’t think you even realise how fucking obsessed with you I am. Look at you. Fuck. You’re incredible.”

My smile was helpless, all traces of melancholy fading away as I took in the sight of the man who was rapidly becoming everything to me, looking at me like maybe I was beginning to mean everything to him, too. I had made an effort tonight since it was the last night we’d all be together like this. I was wearing my shortest, tightest black dress—the one I’d worn to our ball, cut dangerously low in the front and back, with just a tiny silk thong beneath. I’d left my hair to fall around my shoulders in loose, natural waves, and I’d rimmed my eyes in ebony. I’d wanted to make a statement. And from the lust in Tristan’s eyes, I’d achieved that.

I didn’t even have a minute to spare for thoughts of my attire, though, because my boyfriend was the hottest man I had ever seen in my life. And he knew it. He’d gone for smart casual in black jeans and a black shirt, but his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he’d unbuttoned his shirt halfway down his chest, leaving miles of tanned, lean muscles on show. As usual, his golden hair was perfectly styled, and his bright eyes were sparkling at me.

“Enjoying the view?” He cocked a brow.

“Are you?”

Licking his lips, he looked me up and down again. “Mmm. Very much. And this time, I’m allowed to appreciate it.”

“Well, I am, too.”

“I know.”

Before I could respond, he tugged me into him, slanting his mouth over mine. I melted into him, winding my arms around his neck as we kissed. 

When we eventually managed to drag ourselves away from each other, I alternated between dancing with him and my friends and chilling on the sofas with everyone who hadn’t wanted to dance. I couldn’t stop my smile from overtaking my face. This was how it should be. Everyone getting along with each other, doing whatever they found interesting, with no pressure and no worries. I knew it was mostly a fantasy, and the real world would intrude soon enough, but for now, everyone seemed to be at peace.

It was around two in the morning when the party quietened right down, with only the core members of the elite remaining. We’d been passing around a few joints and playing cards, the music turned down low, when Knox climbed to his feet at a signal from Tristan. He disappeared in the direction of his private room, and when he returned to the sofas, he was brandishing three magnums of champagne in gold bottles. 

“A parting gift from the three gods,” Tristan announced, his eyes dancing with amusement as he glanced over at me. I rolled my eyes—I knew he’d referenced himself as a god on purpose. The three of them popped the corks and began passing the bottles around our group.

As soon as he’d relinquished his bottle, Tristan tugged me into his lap, wrapping his arm around my waist. When the closest bottle reached us, he handed it to me with a kiss to my cheek. “Don’t drink too much. I have plans for later,” he murmured in my ear. I shivered as he kissed my cheek again and then trailed a line of kisses down the side of my neck.

I wanted him so badly, but we weren’t alone. Taking a swig from the bottle, I savoured the smooth, crisp bubbly taste as the champagne fizzed down my throat, and after another mouthful, I handed the magnum to Quinn.

“What if I have plans for later?”

Tristan’s palm slid onto my thigh, dangerously close to the hem of my dress. “Do you?” He sounded intrigued.

“No.” Turning around, I nipped at the edge of his jaw. He growled under his breath, and I smiled. “But I’m sure I could come up with something.”

“If it involves you and me and no clothes, then I’m all for it.”

“You’re so predictable,” I told him.

“Can you blame me? You’re fucking hot, and I’ve had to force myself to resist you for years.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Years?”

He cupped my face in his hand, his expression turning serious. He brushed a soft kiss over my lips. “Years.”

I melted into him.

Tristan Smith-Chamberlain. Self-proclaimed king of the gods and the man who held my heart in his hands.

“I still can’t get over this.” When I raised my head, I found Knox staring at us. “You two…yeah, we all knew it was always inevitable, but the way you two look at each other…I dunno…I never expected to see you so…”

“Sweet with each other?” Elena suggested.

“Yeah. Sweet.” He smirked at Tristan.

“Says the asshole cuddling his girlfriend and whispering sweet nothings in her ear,” Tristan pointed out.

“I was whispering very dirty things, actually.”

“I bet you were, you sick fucker. I don’t wanna know.”

“Believe me, you don’t,” Roman interjected, and I took that as my cue to unwind Tristan’s arm from around my waist and stand.

“I won’t be too long,” I said, leaning down to kiss him. “Quinn, Elena, come with me?” Tristan nodded, handing me one of the full magnums of champagne as we left the boys to it. They needed time together, and so did we.

“Our last night together.” Samira stretched out on her bed with Gracelyn draped over her thighs, the two of them passing the bottle between them.

“I can’t believe it.” Elena shook her head. “I went to dinner with Katy and Will before the party, and they were leaving straight after we’d eaten. They’re flying to Florence and then getting the train to Rome. No looking back.”

Grace and Mira exchanged glances, and Mira handed the bottle back to Quinn. “Yeah. We’re leaving first thing tomorrow to fly to Rhodes,” Gracelyn said. “Probably before anyone else is awake, unless you’re planning to be up by seven-ish.”

Quinn eyed the bottle, shaking it lightly in what I assumed was an attempt to work out how much champagne was left inside. “No, I don’t think any of us will be up that early. I know there are at least another few magnums of this in Knox’s room, plus the other stuff everyone’s been drinking.”

“That’s why I thought we should spend some time together tonight,” I said. “Make the most of it. I know we’ll all stay in touch, but it won’t be the same as being here.”

Elena sighed. “I’ve been here the least amount of time, and I’m going to miss this place. I can’t imagine what it must be like for the rest of you.” She laughed and shook her head. “I never actually thought I’d say I’d miss Hatherley Hall, but I guess it’s grown on me.”

Quinn passed her the bottle. “Or maybe we’ve grown on you.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re okay.” She smiled before taking a swig from the bottle. “Seriously, I’m glad I have you in my life.”

I slipped my arm around her waist. “Same goes for us, too.”

34

TRISTAN

Aria’s brows rose as we reached the staircase leading to the ruined bell tower. “What are we doing here?”

“Closure, mostly.” I glanced over her as we began ascending the stairs. “This was our place, and…look. I know a lot of bad things came to light when we started looking into the past, and we both know what happened here, but I can’t regret the fact that you found that box. It gave me you, and honestly, I’m not sure I would’ve managed to get my shit together without it.”

Her lips curved into a wry smile. “Yeah, me too, probably.”

“Definitely.”

Her eyes narrowed at me, and I couldn’t help grinning, but it died away as we reached the top of the stairs. The bell tower room looked the same as I’d seen it last. Aria’s blanket, crumpled in one corner. The battered floorboards, partially pried away. The stone fireplace. The gaping hole and crumbling stones where a window had once been.

Aria inhaled and then exhaled, a deep, shuddering breath.

“It’s…weird being back here now. I can almost picture it.” Her voice was so fucking quiet, and my body stiffened. Had I made a mistake in bringing her here?

“Aria. We can leave.”

“No.” She shook her head violently. “I don’t want to. I think…I think we needed this.” Crossing the room, she stopped in front of the hole where the window used to be. Trailing her fingers across the stone, she lifted her gaze. “I can see the stars.”

I came up behind her, wrapping my arms around her body, the tightness in my chest easing when she relaxed back against me. “Yeah,” I said. “Look. There’s Aquila.” Lifting her hand, I traced the outline of the constellation. “And over there. See that? That’s the moon.”

She rolled her head to the side so I could see her extremely unimpressed expression. Fucking hell, it did things to me. Who got turned on by that kind of shit? I did, apparently.

“What? That big crescent thing is the moon? I’d never have guessed.”

“I know you wouldn’t have, so it’s a good thing you have me to tell you these things.”

“Why are you hard?” Her body pressed back into mine, and I smirked, tightening my grip on her. 

“Hmm. Let me think. I’ve got the hottest fucking woman I know in my arms, and she’s giving me shit—which, apparently, I’m into in some weird, fucked-up way.”

“Wow. You have serious issues.” Her tone was dry.

I buried my smile in her hair. “Yeah, probably. I blame you for that.”

We both stared at the stars for a while, and finally, my dick calmed down. Not fully, because…Aria. But enough that I could appreciate this moment. I was glad we’d come up here. If we’d left Hatherley Hall for good without seeing it again, I was sure we’d both feel as if there was something incomplete. We needed to see the bell tower with our own eyes, knowing what had happened, and reconcile that with our own experiences.

Eventually, she cleared her throat, speaking softly into the night. “You…you didn’t mean that, did you?” 

“Didn’t mean what, baby?”

“Th-the hottest woman thing.” Her words tripped over each other, betraying her nerves, and right after she’d spoken them, she let out a string of swear words under her breath. Apparently, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

It warmed me all over.

“Course I did.” I spun her around to face me. Her eyes were fixed on my chest, and so I lifted her chin so she had no choice but to meet my gaze. My heart did a lurching thing it had never done before, and I sighed, resigned to the fact that I was most likely going to love this girl until the day I died. “You’re beautiful, inside and out.”

Those honey eyes widened, Aria’s mouth falling open, then closing again, the process repeating itself several times as if she couldn’t find the words. I couldn’t, either, so I did the only thing I could think of. I dipped my head, and I kissed her.

“Tristan!”

“Shhhh.” I placed my finger over her lips. “Someone might hear.”

“Yes, because we’re breaking into the library,” she hissed.

My brows rose. “You’re worried about breaking the rules?”

“Obviously not.” She gave me another one of those unimpressed looks that I should not be finding hot. “But I feel like we should be.”

Using my former head boy key card to let us inside, I pointed in the direction of the archives. “No one’s gonna disturb us. Katy and Will are gone, and no one else has access to this place except for the staff members who aren’t gonna be awake at—” I checked the time. “—three thirty in the morning.”

Not waiting for her to reply, I ushered her inside, through the library stacks to the archives. I directed her towards a door in the back right-hand corner, using my key card to enter.

The room was exactly as I’d left it. Leaving Aria to her own devices for a moment, I circled the space, pulling out the lighter I’d been keeping in my pocket for this moment. I swiped my thumb down to bring the small flame to life, holding it to each of the candles I’d carefully placed earlier, trying not to second-guess myself. I hoped this was a good idea. Was it a good idea? We’d never get a chance to do this in the school library again, and to me, this was a sacred space with all the valuable books and journals. I’d never even thought about bringing a girl in here before, but I wanted to be here with Aria, the only girl who’d ever meant something to me.

The girl who meant everything to me.

When all the candles were lit, I stepped back to admire my handiwork. I doubted anyone would appreciate the struggle I’d had, setting up fucking candles in a place with so much flammable material, let alone in the archives where the books were irreplaceable. But now, looking at the result, with the flickering flames surrounding the makeshift bed I’d arranged, it was perfect. 

My momentary lapse in confidence that had come before I’d viewed my handiwork disappeared. There was no possible way Aria wouldn’t love this.

There was a chance she might realise how strong my feelings for her were after seeing this, but we could cross that bridge when we came to it. For now, for the rest of the night, she was mine, and I was going to make her feel so fucking good.

Kicking off my shoes, I crossed the room to stand in the centre of the space, my feet sinking into the piles of blankets I’d placed on the floor. I held out my hand, and as if Aria was attuned to me, she turned away from the book she’d been perusing to face me and closed the distance between us.

We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. I undressed her as quickly as I could, trying and failing to think of anything unsexy as she got her hands all over my body, until I was as naked as she was and so fucking hard I ached. My attempts to draw it all out, to pace myself, were a complete failure with Aria Harper nude, kneeling in front of me and lit by candles, looking like the sexiest fucking goddess to ever walk this earth. When I created some distance between us in a final attempt to make it last, moving our clothes aside, she rose to her feet. Her heated gaze remained on mine as she dragged her hands down her body, palming her breasts and then sliding them lower, widening her legs as her fingers dipped between them. I groaned, shifting back to get a better view as I fisted my erection, so hard and leaking and fucking desperate to be inside her.

“Come here, Aria,” I rasped. There was no fucking way I could last another second without her body against mine.

“You read my mind.” She was completely unselfconscious, prowling towards me, her gaze dropping to my dick and her tongue swiping across her lips as she took in the sight.

When she reached me, she lowered herself to the blankets on her hands and knees. My heart pounded at the sight of her staring up at me through her lashes, her tongue coming out to take a teasing swipe across the tip of my cock. “Condom?”

I groaned again. “Fuck. Your mouth. Don’t tease me, I’m not gonna last, and I need to be inside you. No more condoms after tonight. We are getting fucking tested the second we get out of here. I want you bare from now on.”

She nodded instantly, watching as I rolled on the condom I’d pulled from my pocket. “I’d like that. I haven’t…there hasn’t been anyone since you.”

Dropping to my knees, I gripped her hips and tugged her forwards. “Straddle me, baby.” When she was hovering over me, her hands on my shoulders and her pussy aligned with my dick, I made sure I met her gaze. “There hasn’t been anyone for me since you, little scorpion, and there won’t ever be again.” My voice was way too hoarse…way too sincere, and I swallowed hard, gripping her tightly and pulling her down, both of us moaning as her pussy took my dick like it was made for it.

“Tristan,” she whispered, rising up and then dropping back down, holding eye contact all the time, all that honey swallowed up by her blown pupils.

“Fuck. Yeah.” My cock throbbed inside her. Had sex ever been this intense?

“No one else,” she said.

I couldn’t control myself, flipping us over so she was beneath me, and then I fucked her hard and fast, her moans and cries sending me spiralling towards the edge. The candles flickered wildly, but I barely even noticed, too lost in my girl, the love of my life, the only person who’d ever managed to make me feel like I wanted more.

And I wanted more.

I was so fucking greedy for her. I wanted everything.

“Tristan,” she moaned so fucking sweetly, shuddering against me with her release, and I snapped, my hips thrusting forwards again and again as I emptied myself into the condom inside her, holding her hot, shaking body as my climax ripped through me.

Fucking hell.

I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when or how my life had changed, but Aria had torn my world apart.

Then she’d remade it.

And for the first time in my life, I was exactly where I wanted to be.

Later, when we’d cleaned up and she was lying in my arms, the candles burnt down to flickering stubs, I stroked my hand through the length of her hair. What I wanted to say was the truth, but it was too soon for a confession.

It was too soon, but she was asleep, and so I could say it. I could whisper it into the dark.

“It’s too soon to say this, but I love you.”

The second I’d spoken the words aloud, I froze, my heart pounding so hard I found myself struggling to breathe.

I forced myself to take one deep breath after another until my heart rate was less like someone who’d just run a marathon and more like someone who’d jogged around Hatherley Hall’s running track a couple of times.

Just after I’d carefully shifted Aria’s sleeping position so I could blow out the remaining candles before I fell asleep, I felt her stirring. I lay back on the cushions, slowly stroking my hand up and down her back in the hope she’d fall asleep again.

“Tristan?”

“Sorry. Go back to sleep.”

Instead of doing as I suggested, she lifted her head. “Tristan.”

The way she was looking at me, so soft and sleepy, did things to my heart that I was not prepared for. “Yeah?”

“I love you, too.”

“You heard that?”

She nodded. “You meant it.”

The fact she wasn’t even questioning it…the fact she’d heard the truth in my whispered words earlier…

I pulled her into me. “Yeah. I meant it.”

EPILOGUE

ARIA

TWO YEARS LATER

The air was thick, heavy with the promise of a storm. Propping my head up on my boyfriend’s thigh, I lay back on the blanket we’d spread out on the soft sand on our private beach, well away from the shore, watching the dark clouds roll in. 

“Aria?”

‘Hmm?” I tilted my head to meet Tristan’s gaze.

“You know how everyone left us alone today,” he began.

“I was thinking the same,” I told him, already moving to sit upright. He tugged me back down into him, rolling on top of me. 

His body pressed into mine, and I hooked my leg over his thigh, pulling him closer. Breathing in his scent and feeling his warmth wrapping around me, I smiled. I’d never get enough of him. If I thought back to the majority of our time at Hatherley Hall, I would’ve probably been disgusted with myself, but now I knew Tristan inside out…now he was the closest person to me, I could barely remember how badly we’d antagonised each other. Well, okay, I remembered it, but it felt as if we’d been completely different people back then.

Now, he loved me. He’d entrusted me with his heart, and I loved him with everything I had in return. And that was something that I was certain would never change.

The clouds darkened further, thunder rumbling overhead, and I shivered beneath him as a sudden cold breeze scattered sand across our blanket. “Do you think the others will be back soon?”

His hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking over my skin as he shook his head. “Probably not. Knox and Elena were visiting those crypts or whatever they were.”

“Some ancient Greek history thing,” I said with a shrug, and he grinned at me.

“Yeah. So there’s no way they’ll be able to tear themselves away for at least another hour, probably longer. Ro and Quinn will be back from the boat trip, but they were gonna stop off at that ruined coliseum we saw yesterday, and Roman said they’d get barbeque food in town before they came back.”

“Good,” I said. My gaze rose to the cliff behind us and the large villa perched on top, the bright white stone darkening to grey as the storm clouds above us covered the skies. “I think we should make the most of it, in that case.”

He kissed me again before disentangling us with clear reluctance. I smiled at the speed with which he rolled up our blanket and grabbed my hand, pausing for a second to shove his feet into sliders before tugging me towards the path that led up to the villa.

When we reached the top, the rain was beginning to fall, fat, heavy drops that refreshed my overheated skin. Tristan led me over to the outdoor shower, the rain mingling with the spray from the drench head as we stripped down, washing the sand from our bodies in between kisses and touches that led to him lifting me and carrying me over to the huge outdoor sofas in the covered area of the huge terrace. He fucked me as the storm rolled in, our moans lost in the deep rumble of thunder and the crashing of the waves against the cliffs. A huge fork of lightning split the sky as he thrust against my G-spot, and I gasped as my body arched beneath him, my climax making my vision temporarily white out.

Tristan buried his face in my throat, thrusting once, twice, and then he came, filling me with his release. We held on to one another, trembling, overcome, as the storm picked up in intensity, raging around us.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, raising his head to meet my gaze. His pupils were still wide and dark and dazed, and I loved that we still had the same effect on each other, even now.

“I agree.”

He dipped his head to kiss me before easing out of me with a groan, rolling over and climbing to his feet. I watched the muscles in his back shift as he walked to the towel cubby against the villa wall, returning with two huge, fluffy towels.

Wrapped in the towel, with Tristan behind me, encircling me in his powerful arms, I watched the storm, safe, sated, and so, so happy.

His mouth dipped to my ear, pressing a soft kiss there. “Remember how I said I wouldn’t let the storm hurt you?”

My entire body warmed all over, thinking of that night. The night he’d protected me from the storm. I’d been a scared little eight-year-old, and he’d somehow known exactly how to take my fear away. “You remember that?”

“I remember everything. That night, you were scared, but you were so brave, Aria. And you trusted me, without hesitation. That…that meant a lot to me. I don’t know if you knew that.”

“I trusted you then, and I trust you now. You make everything better. I’m not afraid of the storm anymore, Tristan.”

“I know.” He brought his hand up to brush his finger over the lightning bolt I always wore around my neck. “And now, I get to watch every storm with my favourite person.”

I smiled, watching as another lightning bolt split the sky. “Sharing your facts with them, too. I’ve got one for you this time. Did you know lightning bolts are two miles long?”

I felt his answering smile against my skin. “Hmm. I seem to remember telling you that fact. I hope you’re not trying to take the credit for it.”

“I’d never do that.”

“You absolutely would, little scorpion.” He gently gripped my jaw, turning my head so he could kiss me properly. “I guess it’s one of the many reasons I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I know.” His mouth slid against mine, and I forgot about the storm, losing myself in the man I loved.

Until the sound of the doors sliding open penetrated my brain and the voices of Elena, Knox, Quinn, and Roman filtered through to my ears.

Tristan groaned, dropping his forehead to my shoulder, but when he raised his head again, his lips curved upwards as he took in our friends.

“Barbeque time,” Roman announced. “Get some clothes on. Tristan, you’re on steak duty. Aria, you’re in charge of the seasoning.”

“Yes, sir.” Tristan saluted him before helping me to my feet. We headed back to our room to shower again and dress…interspersed with another round of sex, and then rejoined our friends.

Everyone was gathered around the giant marble-topped kitchen island, waiting for us with glasses of chilled white wine poured and ready. Knox slid two of the glasses across the island to us before holding up his own. “To us. For being the fucking amazing people we are.”

“Nice and simple and true. I like it.” Tristan gave a decisive nod, lifting his own glass. “And to add to that—to good times we’ve had and even better times to come.”

“Cheers,” Roman said.

We clinked our glasses together and drank, then began preparing the food.

Outside, the storm clouds rolled away until the storm was nothing but a distant rumble. The night sky spread out before us, dotted by countless glittering stars, and everything was still.

THE END

THANK YOU

Thank you so much for reading Tristan and Aria’s story. I hope you enjoyed the Gods of Hatherley Hall!

Are you interested in reading more mystery and suspense among the elite? You can find out more about Roman’s cousins Caiden and Weston and dive into the story of The Four, beginning with Caiden and Winter’s story in The Lies We Tell:

https://mybook.to/tlwt

Check out all my other links at:

https://linktr.ee/authorbeccasteele

Feel free to send me your thoughts, and reviews are always very appreciated heart suit

Becca xoxo

ALSO BY BECCA STEELE

Gods of Hatherley Hall Series

(M/F academy romance)

Cruel Crypts

Wicked Waters

Sinful Storms

The Four Series

(M/F college suspense romance)

The Lies We Tell

The Secrets We Hide

The Havoc We Wreak

A Cavendish Christmas (festive short story)*

The Fight In Us

The Bonds We Break

The Darkness In You

LSU Series

(M/M college romance)

Collided

Blindsided

Sidelined

Unwrapped (festive spin-off novella)*

Ignited

Tempted (novella)

Dared

Matched

Alstone High Standalones

(new adult high school romance)

Trick Me Twice (M/F)

Cross the Line (M/M)

In a Week (M/F short story)*

Savage Rivals (M/M)

London Players Series

(M/F rugby romance)

The Offer

London Suits Series

(M/F office romance)

The Deal

The Truce

The Wish (festive short story)*

Other Standalones

Cirque des Masques (M/M dark circus romance)

Reckless (M/M soccer romance)

Mayhem (M/F Four series dark spinoff)*

Heatwave (M/F summer short story)*

After Dark (MMM Cirque des Masques short spinoff)*

Boneyard Kings Series (with C. Lymari)

(MFMM why-choose college suspense romance)

Merciless Kings

Vicious Queen

Ruthless Kingdom

Blackwell Lake Series (with C. Lymari)

(MMMF why-choose college suspense romance)

Beneath the Surface

Box Sets

Caiden & Winter trilogy (M/F)

(The Four series books 1-3)

*starred books (plus bonus scenes) are available as free downloads from https://authorbeccasteele.com

**Key: M/F = Male/Female romance | M/M = Male/Male romance | why-choose = one woman & 3 men romance (also known as reverse harem)

Within Becca’s why-choose books, MFMM indicates that all men have a relationship with the woman, but do not interact with each other physically or romantically. MMMF indicates that all parties interact physically and romantically

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Becca Steele is a USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of new adult romance from contemporary to dark. Her books have been translated into multiple languages.

Becca resides in the south of England with her family. When she's not writing, you can find her reading or gaming. Failing that, she'll be watching Netflix or curating yet another Spotify playlist.

Join Becca’s Facebook reader group Becca’s Book Bar, sign up to her mailing list, check out her Patreon, or find her via the following links: