The Ritual: A Dark College Romance

I PARK IN the back packed parking lot of Blackout and get out. She hasn’t said anything to me, and honestly, it’s got me worried. I grab the bag out of the back and throw it over my shoulder before going to her door and picking her up. I shut the passenger door, and the back door slams open to the club as I walk across the parking lot. Ty holds it open for me and looks down at her. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah,” I lie, trying to convince myself more than him. I keep telling myself it’s just been a long night. Between our fight, a fake divorce, sex in my bunker, and two murders—she just needs some rest.

The club is in full swing, but the sound of “Honesty” by Halsey blaring doesn’t even seem to faze her. I carry her up the stairs and then in the elevator to the fourth floor, down a long hallway where Ty unlocks a door for me. “Here you go.” He shoves a key in my back pocket since my hands are currently full.

“Thanks, man.”

“Anytime. You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to.” He closes it behind me, leaving us alone, and I take us to the back master suite, and straight into the bathroom. I need a shower. I’m covered in not only blood but also dirt from digging a grave.

Setting her on the black marble countertop, I start undressing her, and she remains silent. Her eyes are glazed over—she’s looking at me but not seeing anything.

“We need a shower,” I tell her, and she slowly nods in agreement. She’s listening, so I haven’t lost her completely yet.

Leaving her on the countertop, I walk into the Roman shower and turn on the water. After getting undressed, I then pick her up and carry her into the shower. I stand her on her feet but use my body to hold her up against the white subway tile wall, letting the hot water wash over us, washing away another night of dead bodies.

She blinks, her eyes focusing on mine. “There’s my girl.” I breathe out in relief, running my hand over her wet hair and giving her a smile.

“Do you believe in heaven and hell?” her soft voice asks as I watch her blue eyes fill with tears. “I’ve never really thought about it …” She licks her lips. “But there has to be something better than this, right? So much hate. So much deceit. How does anyone know what’s real or fake?”

“No,” I answer her question honestly. “I don’t believe in life after death.” Her eyes search mine, and for once, I hate how vulnerable she looks—almost broken. I want to make her whole. That’s my job as her husband. She belongs to me, and Matt is still controlling her emotions—making her question everything. “The Lords have shown me that darkness exists. That you don’t have to die in order to burn. And then you came along …” I place both of my hands on her wet face, and she blinks, allowing the first tear to run down her cheek. “I can see you, touch you, and kiss you.” I wipe it away with my thumb. “I can love you.” My eyes drop to her plump lips, and her bottom one trembles. “You, Blakely Rae Archer, are my heaven.” Letting go of her face, I pick up her left hand and bring her knuckles to my lips, kissing her wedding ring. “I made a vow to protect you, Blake, and I’ll show anyone who tries to hurt you my version of hell.”

I’d set the world on fire, including myself, if it meant saving her.

BLAKELY

THIS IS REAL!

This is what I wanted. All along. Acceptance, love, understanding. What if he’s right, and this is all we get? And when you die, you’re just … gone. Eventually not even a memory to anyone.

I can live with that because I have him.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull his face down to mine. His hands slap the wall, leaving the smallest space between our lips. My eyes take in his sharp jaw, the curve of his lips and green eyes—they look different now that I know who he really is—sexier in a way that has my blood pumping.

I know who you are, Ryat Alexander Archer. I’m not afraid of what I see, nor am I ashamed.

His dark hair is wet, and some of the longer pieces have fallen down across his face into his eyes as the water hits us. Leaning forward, he goes to press his lips to mine, but I pull back just enough to meet his eyes again and whisper, “I love you, Ryat.”

His lips capture mine, and I open up for him, letting him take control. It’s passionate yet needy at the same time. The water falling down over us makes our lips slippery, the kiss messy. His teeth hit mine, and I moan, wanting them to bite into my skin, to fucking scar me so I’ll forever have a reminder of tonight.

I thought I knew what love would be like marrying Matt. Not what I dreamed of but tolerable. Ryat has shown me that there is more out there. I’m no longer settling for something; I’m taking it.

One of his hands tangles into my wet hair, and I lift my left leg to wrap around his hip.

“Fuck, Blake,” he growls, pulling his face from mine. His lips drop to my neck, and I tilt my head to the side. “I love you so goddamn much.”

I suck in a shaky breath. “I love …”

His lips capture mine again, and his hand falls between our bodies. Then he’s sliding his hard dick into me. Knocking the back of my head into the wall, I gasp when he stretches me open. I’m still sensitive from earlier, but I’m not going to turn him down. Not now. Not ever.

Ryat Archer is a killer, and all I can think of is I wish I could prove my love for him the way he has for me. He deserves that much. Blood for blood. He’s spilled so much for me. I’m not afraid to bleed for him.

I’m gasping, my hands digging into his skin, feeling his muscles tense while his fingers dig into my ass, and he lifts me off my feet.

“Yes,” I gasp as he pulls out and shoves his dick into me, my back hitting the wall. “Oh, God.” My eyes close, and he picks up his pace, fucking me how I like it.

Water from the sprayers slips between my parted lips, and I swallow it, trying to catch my breath. If this is what it feels like to drown, I don’t want to be above water.

The bathroom fills with his grunts and the sound of our bodies slapping. My legs tighten around his hips, and I lock my ankles, clinging to his slippery skin. I can’t get him close enough, deep enough. I want this man to consume me. Take what little pieces I had left of myself and make them his.

I’m not the type of woman who needs to know who I am. All I need to know is who I am with him. And I know exactly who that is—his. Nothing else fucking matters.

He slams into me, his dick hitting that spot that always makes my body fucking burn from the inside out. My moans grow louder, my breathing heavier.

He yanks me from the wall, only to slam me into the other one opposite us, forcing a cry from my lips.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he growls. His mouth goes to my neck, and I feel him sucking on my skin.

“Ryat!” I shout his name, my heart already racing, the fire starting. He goes harder, faster, knowing I’m right there. Closing my eyes, I let the wave wash over me, knowing that I’m already drowning. Why not let it wash me away?

_______________

I LIE IN bed, listening to the pounding music below us. It’s not that bad but definitely noticeable. “I need to go back to the cabin,” I tell him.

“You’re not going back there,” he states, entering the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his hips. Water still runs down over his sculpted chest and abs. His arms are red from my nails digging into them in the shower.

“I have to get my books for classes tomorrow.” It’s Monday, and I have to get back to Barrington. Fuck, I’m going to be so far behind. By now, I’m failing everything. I’ve missed so much work, only for it not to have been worth it. At the time, I didn’t care to go back, but that’s when I was going to live my life on the run. That’s not the case anymore.

He was in the middle of knocking the water out of his hair, but he pauses. A smile tugs at his lips, and then he starts laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I sit up.

“You’re done with school, Blake,” he announces.

“Excuse me?” I argue.

“You left. You think people weren’t going to realize you weren’t there?”

I never really thought about it to be honest. When you’re running for your life, your college classes don’t really matter anymore. “So, what? I just can’t not go back. Ryat, I need a degree.” And my parents will kill me. Maybe that’s another reason my father was so mad at me for leaving town.

“Don’t worry, I covered it.” He dismisses it.

Arching a brow, I slowly repeat his words. “You covered it?” He nods. “What the hell does that mean?” I’m going to need him to clarify exactly what he’s done.

“Told everyone that we took a week off for our honeymoon.” He shrugs. “We were newlyweds. It made sense.”

“What?” I gape at him. “What about the other two weeks?”

“I paid someone to step in for you. They will be covering for you the rest of the year,” he explains casually. As if it’s no big deal for someone else to go to school for me.

“Ryat …” I growl his name but pause, circling around to what he said earlier. Did he say we ? “You skipped that first week too?”

“I’ve skipped every day.”

I gasp. “Ryat! Why the fuck would you do that?”

“You expected me to go on with my life? Sit in fucking classes while you were on the run and in danger?” he asks with a rough laugh.

I snort. “I was fine.”

His eyes go large at the lie, any sense of playfulness now gone. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

Instead of telling another one, I cross my arms over my exposed chest.

“That man was going to kill you,” he growls.

“Because of you,” I spit out.

He stiffens, his eyes darkening. “Excuse me?”

How dare he make such an important decision for me? But I’m really not sure why I’m surprised. I mean, look how we got here. “He told me you owed him. That he was going to ship me back in pieces—to you. So, I was only in danger because of you.” This isn’t news to him. Ryat just made Ashley confess that a man named Derek—I’m guessing that’s the guy—was sent to watch me. But I hadn’t told him what the guy said to me.

“He said that shit to you, and you’re just now telling me?” he shouts, his face turning red.

I shrug carelessly. “You never asked. You were too busy drugging me and dragging me back. Oh, and then I had to be tested. Because you know, the Lords said it was time to put even more strain on our marriage—”

He reaches over and picks up a lamp, throwing it across the room. It shatters, hitting a wall, cutting me off. Silence falls between us; the only sound is the faint bass of the music from the club below us, and my shoulders fall while I sit in the bed naked.

Turning around, he places his hands on the dresser and leans over it. I watch the way his back muscles ripple—covered in scratch marks—while trying to calm his breathing.

“I know it wasn’t your fault,” I say softly. It was Matt’s. Everything started because of him. “You saved me—”

“It was, though,” he interrupts me and turns around. “How do you think I found you?”

I frown. “I … don’t know.”

Running a hand down his face, he leans back against the dresser. “Remember that night Gunner and I found you and Sarah here at Blackout?”

I nod, scrunching my brow. “Yeah, but what’s that have to do with anything?”

“A couple of guys hit on you two at the bar,” he adds.

I sit up straighter. “How did you know about that?” I never told him that. Maybe Sarah filled Gunner in about our night.

“We were here upstairs, watching you girls and saw them approach you,” he admits.

“How did you …?” I nod my head to myself. “My phone. You tracked us here. I was wondering how you found us.” Fuck, I should have fucking known. If I had just opened my eyes, I probably could have pieced it together.

“Long story short, Gunner and I killed them,” he confesses as if no big deal.

“What?” I gasp. “Ryat …”

“They had drugs on them, Blake. Shit that proved they were going to do more to the two of you than buy you drinks,” he snaps, then releases a heavy sigh.

“Did you find that out before or after you killed them?” I demand.

“After.”

“Jesus, Ryat.” I run a hand through my still wet hair. I understand they might have hurt us, but he killed them before that. “You can’t keep killing random people.”

“I will kill whoever touches what’s mine, Blake,” he states matter-of-factly. Lowering his voice, he goes on. “They were here with a friend—a third guy. He saw what happened and knew we took care of them. I didn’t know at the time, obviously, that Ashley had followed you when you ran, but Ty overheard talk in Blackout that the guy knew where you were. We followed him. It made me think that Matt had told him, and he led us straight to you.”

“No …” I trail off, trying to get my brain to put all the pieces together. It had to have been the guy with the tattoo on the back of his neck. I never saw his face that night here at the bar with Sarah, but it makes sense.

He nods, arguing with me. “Matt sent him when Ashley was tired of watching you. He knew where you were. Maybe he didn’t care to go get you at the time. He wanted to sit back and watch what I did when you left. It was more about me at that point rather than you.”

“But … we just found out …” I trail off at the look on his blank face. He already fucking knew all of this but wanted Ashley to confess in front of the Lords, giving him the reason he needed to kill her. “I can’t believe this.”

“Which part exactly?”

“All of it,” I snap, glaring up at him through my lashes. “God, Ryat, how many secrets are you keeping from me?”

“I don’t keep count,” he states, his green eyes on mine.

“Is this a joke to you?” I demand, throwing the covers off me and getting out of bed.

“No. I take anything regarding you pretty fucking seriously,” he answers, pushing away from the dresser.

I walk over to him, glaring up at him. “What else do you have to tell me at the moment?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re fucking lying to me.”

He lowers his face to mine, a smile tugging at his lips, and says, “Prove it.”

I go to slap him, but he catches my wrist with one hand and wraps the other around my throat, pushing my back into the nearest wall. “Want to give that another try, Blake?”

“Fuck you, Ryat,” I growl.

When he lets go of my wrist, my arm drops to my side as he steps into me, his nose touching the tip of mine. “Don’t mind if I do …” His hands slide up my bare hips to my ribs. “I can never get enough of you,” he growls, his voice rough.

My heart starts beating faster at his words, but I’m still pissed at him, so I say, “Good. Because you’re stuck with me until you die.”

Tilting his head up just a bit, he lightly kisses the tip of my nose. “That’s all I want.”

“Aren’t you the romantic?” I say, trying to keep my breath steady. Not wanting to show him that my thighs are tightening as we speak. All that’s separating us is his towel. I’m already naked.

“Blake, I’ll be anything you need.”