Page 25 of Wicked Knight

I’m a descendant of Blade, one of the assassins. My mother used to tell me stories about him. How stealthy and powerful he was. She said I inherited that from him. That’s why I’m so good on the field when I’m playing football.

At the head of the driveway is the stone statue of Raventhorn himself. The man who created all of this. With his massive broad sword and a raven on his shoulder, he looks even more fearless in the moonlight.

This is my favorite part of the campus.

I zoom past the statues and lean into the curve, my gaze drifting upward to the spires of Raventhorn Hall, which pierce the sky.

The university looms ahead like a fortress, its gothic architecture a testament to another era. Gargoyles perch on parapets like they’re waiting to pounce, their grotesque forms casting long, jagged shadows. Stained glass windows glimmer faintly in the moonlight, hinting at the mysteries hidden within and secrets not meant to be told.

This place is alive, and sometimes I think it’s watching. Watching everything that happens within the stony walls and the vast grounds where even the secret passages have secrets.

Some of the most powerful men in the world and their heirs walk these grounds.

It’s like a constant battle of heaven of hell, and you have to determine which side you’ll fall on.

Good or bad. Bad or good. Or sometimes a bit of both. I guess that would make you a traitor.

Like me.

I speed up, thinking of her—Mackenzie.

I took the kiss I was owed and gave her the one I promised. She probably doesn’t remember. That doesn’t matter now.

What matters is my weakness to resist temptation fucked me over big time.

I was already fucked the moment I saw her dancing on that stage. But when she got outside and I had her all to myself, I knew I had to taste her.

The moment I did, that kiss and the simple, barely-there touch of her silky, smooth skin drove me insane.

Me. A guy who’s used to going to strip clubs, sex clubs, and all sorts of debauched clubs where it’s guaranteed to lose your soul.

I hadn’t planned to kiss Mackenzie. I wasn’t even going to speak to her.

I was supposed to watch the show and leave. But when I thought of our first meeting being here at Raventhorn after so long, it didn’t feel right. And part of me wanted her to know that I’d watched her show—more than once.

That night, I wanted to taste her everywhere, not just kiss her.

Istillwant to.

It’s been four days since I saw her, but it’s like she’s right here with me. Dancing before my eyes, luring me like a siren to take what I want.

I almost did that night. I don’t know what stopped me from shoving her up against the wall and fucking her. It’s a good thing I didn’t.

Her mother would have caught us. And I almost don’t care.

It’s like I’ve well and truly lost my goddamn mind. After that night, I took every opportunity I could to watch Mackenzie through her bedroom window.

She was my guilty pleasure, and she dulled the ache in soul from the difficult week I had with my father.

It was hard sorting through Tommy’s things. Harder doing it with my father. We cleaned out his room, and in the end, it was so empty that Yuliana put some storage boxes in there with office supplies so it wouldn’t seem so barren and void of Tommy.

Sorting through my brother’s things was perhaps not the best of things to do days before I was due to start the new college year. But it had to be done. There was a lot of stuff in that room that needed to be packed away, maybe even thrown away. At least going through them was a step in the right direction.

So far, it’s the only good thing I’ve done.

I’m not sure about anything else. I was hoping I’d have some sort of plan by now, but I have nothing but that fascination with Mackenzie being mine.

There’s six months left on that contract, and all I can think of is what I want to do with that body of hers.