Page 7 of Vicious Knight
A haggard sigh falls from my lips as I turn to my left, directly into the cold wind as it blows my way. It lifts the ends of my hair and rushes up into the trees, making the leaves rattle.
Hopelessly I stare at Raventhorn Hall sitting on the hill in the distance.
With the elegance of a medieval castle and the expanse of a fortress, it takes up most of the space on that side of the campus.
Many of the buildings around me have similar Gothic architecture, but with its stone walls, lancet windows, and stained glass, Raventhorn Hall looks like it was pulled straight out of the fifth century.
When I visited the campus weeks ago Raventhorn Hall was the first thing that fascinated me. The building the registration was held in is just across from there, so I got a good view of it.
In the daylight it looked like something from a fairytale or the paintings I love by John William Waterhouse. Even though I’m pissed as hell that I’m lost and late, I can appreciate its beauty against the moonlight. The building holds a different sort of magic and fascination.
Knights become Knights in that building, and that is the place where they do everything.
The building is completely off limits to me and those who aren’t either married to a Knight or a fully-fledged member of their Brotherhood.
Attempting to go inside without either of those criteria will land you in the kind of trouble I don’t even want to think about.
It is curious though—the things they do inside there.
I imagine all sorts of scenarios and I know I wouldn’t be the first person to wish they could get a peek in. Even for a second.
The secret affairs of the Knights weren't discussed in my household. I was only ever told things on a need-to-know basis. When I was growing up Levgen made life for Mom and me as normal as any other family, but there were times when I was forced to acknowledge what we weren’t, and what we are.
I imagine it would have been the same way if Dad were around.
Maybe even more so because my father was one of the senior guards to the previous leader of the Knights.
Dad came here, too, after completing his earlier education in Russia.
This was where he would have taken his vows and where he met Levgen.
They were as close as brothers. It was while they were on vacation in Russia that my mother and father met. Again, thanks to Levgen.
I’m sure he never saw it in the cards that he’d end up taking care of his best friend’s wife and daughter to keep them safe from certain death.
“A word of advice. It’s never a good idea to roam around campus at this time of night by yourself.” A cold, chilling voice speaks from the shadows behind me, stealing the breath from my lungs.
I whirl around, nearly jumping out of my skin from the fright that clutches my nerves with long, sharp talons.
I grab my chest, feeling my heart pounding as I come face to face with a tall, tall, muscular man.
Standing paces away from me, he looks me up and down while he takes a drag on his cigarette. The silver moonlight is bright enough to highlight the handsome Viking-warrior features of his chiseled face and sharp jawline, along with the vicious-looking dragon tattooed down the length of his neck.
His dark hair is styled in a sexy, trendy undercut with the sides short and the top long and swoopy in the wind.
He looks young enough to be a student here, but the five-o’clock shadow darkening his chin makes him appear older in a forbidden way. And those eyes…
People always stare at mine because the silver-gray color looks like frosted glass. He has the opposite effect because his are a blue so bright they almost have their own light.
The fright has momentarily paralyzed me, but so has the unmistakable menacing vibe emanating from him.
It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s dressed in full black—black jeans, black shirt, black biker jacket. The menace is directly coming from him.
The curious look in his eyes suggests he’s been watching me for a while.
But I never even heard him come up. The path where he stands is a mixture of pebbles, leaves, and twigs, so I should have heard something.
Either I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn’t hear him, or he’s good at sneaking up on people. Something tells me it’s the latter.