Chapter 4

Seraphina

The air in the room felt thick, as if every breath I took was weighed down by something I couldn’t quite name. The party passed by without even recognizing the chance, but the energy had shifted—darker now, charged with something more dangerous than just the typical college chaos. Sigma Phi men had a way of changing the atmosphere in any room they entered, and I felt the weight of it pressing on me as I tried to collect myself.

Just moments ago, I had been surrounded by Sigma Phi's men—cornered, really—and I could feel the unease in my chest, the creeping desire to flee. It wasn’t just the crowd; it was the intensity, the way they looked at me like I was something to be claimed. But then Marius had stepped in, his sharp gaze cutting through the chaos. He didn’t even have to say anything—his mere presence commanded attention, and without a word, the others had stepped back.

I glanced up at him now. His eyes were fixed on me, calculating, like he was trying to figure me out. "You alright now?" Marius said, his voice low but smooth, like he was comforting me. His words didn’t settle my nerves, though. If anything, it made me more aware of the fact that I didn’t want to be here.

But there was no way out. Not when he was still standing in front of me, blocking my escape.

I took a small step back, trying to break the space between us, but Marius just took a half-step forward, as if to keep me exactly where I was. "Don’t go just yet. It’s still early. I’d hate for you to miss the best part of the night."

I didn’t respond. My mind was racing. I should leave. I should just walk out and never look back. But then again, Angie was still here, caught up with her boyfriend somewhere in the crowd. I couldn’t abandon her.

My gaze flicked nervously around the room, looking for an exit, anything that could provide a way out. But I was too exposed, too vulnerable in the middle of a Sigma Phi’s tangled web. And then, like a slow, inevitable train wreck, I saw Damon and Tyrone approaching.

Damon’s presence was magnetic, his smile predatory, and he moved with a dangerous confidence that made my skin prickle. "Marius, I see you’ve saved the lady from being cornered," Damon said, his voice low and smooth like velvet. "We were just admiring her from across the room." His eyes locked onto mine, assessing, dangerous. "Quite the mystery, aren’t you?"

I forced myself to breathe, but every instinct was screaming at me to get out of there. I raised an eyebrow at him, trying to deflect his probing gaze. "I’m really not that interesting," I said coolly, lifting my chin just enough to show I wasn’t intimidated; glancing from man to the next, "I’d appreciate it if you stopped staring."

Tyrone, stood slightly behind Damon. His eyes were warm, but his smile was sharp, calculating. "I like the quiet ones," Tyrone added, his voice barely above a whisper. "They’re always the most interesting."

I frowned slightly, not sure if I liked the way his words sounded. "Maybe the quiet ones just know when to keep their distance," I replied, trying to keep my voice even.

Damon grinned, unfazed. "Oh, I’m sure you know how to keep your distance, but I wonder—why bother? You’re here, aren’t you? And looking... irresistible." His eyes flicked down to the curves that my outfit did nothing to hide. I shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

Tyrone around Damon in slightly to speak directly in my ear, his voice dropping lower, softer. "You’re not dressed to impress. That’s a rarity around here." He leaned back slightly, scanning me again, as if trying to read me. "Most girls are all flash, no substance. But you..." He paused, letting the silence stretch between us. "You’re intriguing."

I couldn’t stop my skin from crawling at how closely they were watching me. This wasn’t just admiration—it was a subtle kind of ownership they were trying to claim over me. And it didn’t sit right.

I didn’t respond at first, struggling to keep my composure. Then, I glanced at Marius, still standing too close for comfort. "I’m really not interested," I said, voice steady but firm, trying to make my disinterest clear. "I came here with my friend. When she’s ready to leave, so am I."

Marius tilted his head, his lips curling into a sly smile that didn’t reach his eyes. "You’re not going anywhere yet," he said with a dark confidence. "The evening is just getting started. You don’t want to miss all the fun."

I took a deep breath, feeling the pressure in my chest tighten. "I’m sure I will survive."

Damon’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his voice teasing. "You’ve got a sharp tongue. I like that." He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "But I wonder how long that’ll last, once you realize how much fun you could be having here." He held my gaze like a challenge.

Tyrone smirked from behind him, his eyes never leaving me. "Don’t be too quick to judge the party, princess. You might just like what’s in store."

I didn’t want to engage anymore. The tension in the air was suffocating, and every word they spoke was another invisible thread weaving around me. I wanted to get out—to escape back to the safety of the night—but it was like the walls were closing in, and my feet were rooted to the ground.

I took a step back, glancing at the door again. "I don’t belong here," I muttered more to myself than anyone else.

Marius caught my gaze again, and for a moment, I saw something dangerous flicker behind his calm exterior. "You don’t have to belong anywhere. You just have to make sure you enjoy yourself while you’re here."

I wanted to snap at him, tell him I wasn’t some toy to be played with, but the words stuck in my throat. The way they were all looking at me—Damon, Tyrone, and Marius—it felt like they were circling, waiting for me to show some weakness.

And then, to my horror, the three of them turned their attention to each other, as if they were in some silent agreement. It was like I no longer in the room; I was just a pawn between them. I could hear bits of their conversation, casual yet calculated.

"She’s got the kind of beauty that doesn’t fade," Damon remarked, his gaze still locked on me, but his words intended for Marius.

"Let her go. She’ll come back," Marius replied smoothly, never breaking eye contact.

"Maybe," Tyrone said softly, "but there’s something in her eyes. She’s more than she’s letting on."

I wanted to interrupt, to demand they stop talking about me as though I weren’t there, but I couldn’t find the words. And in that moment, I realized that, somehow, I was at the center of their attention—and I hated it.

Tyrone's eyes never left me, his gaze thoughtful, calculating, like he was slowly piecing together a puzzle. I could feel the weight of his attention on me, more intense than before, as if I were the only person in the room.

"So," Tyrone began, his voice smooth, almost like he was savoring the moment. "Tell me, Seri right? How did you end up at Cornell? You don’t strike me as the typical type we usually see around here." His eyes flicked over me again, as though he was inspecting every detail, every movement. "What year are you in? And what’s your major?”

I hesitated for a moment, considering how to answer. I wasn’t about to let him think he could pry into my life too easily, but I wasn’t in the mood to play coy either. "I’m a senior," I said, keeping my voice level, controlled. "Majoring in psychology, minoring in philosophy."

Damon raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Psychology and philosophy?" He smirked. "I guess that means you’ve definitely got an interesting mind on you."

Tyrone, though, didn’t seem satisfied with just that. He leaned in slightly, the curious glint in his eyes sharpening. "Psychology and philosophy. That’s... an interesting combo." He paused, as if letting the words hang in the air between us. "But what really intrigues me is how you pulled off this whole look—this effortless, quiet confidence—and still flew under the radar. You’ve been here how long? Yet no one seems to have noticed you until tonight. How does that work?"

I could feel my pulse quicken at his words, my guard instinctively going up. There was something in his tone, something about the way he was asking the question, that made me feel like he was probing for something deeper. I didn’t want to let on that I had only came to campus today, he couldn’t know the truth.

"I don’t know," I said, trying to keep my composure. "I don’t go looking for attention. I just do my thing, keep to myself."

Tyrone's lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t a reassuring one. It was almost as if he found my response amusing, like I was playing into whatever game he was trying to set up. "Keep to yourself, huh?" He looked me up and down again, as though trying to decide whether I was lying or just playing hard to get. "You’re a mystery, Seri. And I don’t know if that makes you more interesting or just more... elusive." He clicked his tongue, as if toying with the idea then slid up closer, reaching up a hand tucking a piece of hair behind my ear and ghosting the fingers against my cheek, "Either way, consider me intrigued."

I forced myself to hold his gaze, my heart thudding in my chest. There was something dangerous in his voice, in the way he regarded me like I was a puzzle he was determined to solve. And I didn’t want to be solved—not by him, not by any of them.

"I’m not looking for your attention, Tyrone," I said, my voice sharper now, laced with a firmness I didn’t know I had until I spoke it. "I came here for my friend, and once she’s ready to go, so am I."

Damon chuckled lightly, clearly amused by the exchange. "You know, she’s got some fire," he said to Marius, who was still standing too close. "I like that."

Tyrone’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes seemed to darken, just slightly. "Maybe that’s what makes her so intriguing," he murmured. He took a step back, his attention still heavy on me, as if I were a piece of art he couldn’t stop analyzing. "Think i might find ways to keep you here."

I swallowed hard, my breath tight in my chest. I knew the night was far from over, and the tension in the air wasn’t just coming from the music or the crowd. It was them. It was them making me feel like I was being measured, weighed, and tested in ways I didn’t want to even begin to understand.

As the conversation wound on, I kept my head high, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but inside, my heart was racing. Every move I made felt watched, calculated. And I had no idea how much longer I could keep playing along.

As the conversation carried on, the lights dimmed slightly, casting longer shadows over the faces that had been drinking, dancing, and mingling. The energy of the party shifted, like a collective breath held in anticipation. Marius straightened, his gaze never leaving me as he took a slow step back, his posture commanding the space. The room seemed to grow quieter in response, even the laughter faded just enough to leave a hum of expectation hanging in the air. He wasn’t just a man among the crowd; he was the crowd’s center.

With a calculated pause, Marius raised a hand. It was subtle but unmistakable—a signal, a silent command to the room. Slowly, the chatter died down, the eyes of the room turning toward him, waiting for whatever came next. He let the tension build for a moment longer before his voice cut through the quiet, smooth and dark, as if he were pulling everyone in with the sheer force of his presence.

“Alright,” Marius said, his voice carrying easily across the crowd. “It’s time to end the night with the yearly hunt. You all know the drill. The game’s about to begin.”

A ripple of excitement ran through the crowd, some of the people exchanging glances, others already beginning to whisper. But no one moved. Not until he gave the next instruction.

“Everyone, grab a mask,” he continued, his eyes scanning the room like a hawk. “Time to move this party to a more intimate setting. It’s all in good fun—unless, of course, you don’t play by the rules.” His lips curled into a half-smile, one that was as dangerous as it was charismatic.

The room buzzed again, a mix of nervous laughter and excited murmurs. It was clear that the game was something more than just a way to pass time—it was part of the experience, part of what made the night with Sigma Phi infamous.

I felt a shift in the atmosphere as people began moving again, their bodies drawn to the tables where the masks were displayed. Some were delicate, feathered, others plain black, and a few more extravagant, meant to match the dark allure of the night.

But my heart wasn’t in it. The entire idea felt suffocating, like a trap closing in around me. I didn’t want to play their game, didn’t want to get caught up in whatever twisted fun they had planned. But I knew better than to make a scene, not with the eyes of the room on me, not with Marius standing so close.

Damon’s voice broke the tension, low and teasing. “You’d better get a mask, Seri. It’d be a shame to miss the fun.”

Tyrone’s gaze was fixed on me too, like a predator studying its prey. “Can’t just stand there until its over. Come play with us.”

Despite their words, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this game wasn’t going to be as innocent as they made it sound.

Marius, seeing my hesitation, gave me a small but knowing smile. "You never know, Seri, you might like it. Not many get invited to play." His voice was layered with something more, a warning or perhaps an unspoken challenge.

I didn’t respond, but the fluttering in my stomach told me everything I needed to know. I couldn’t leave—not yet.

Reluctantly, I turned toward the mask table, but the weight of the night, the pressure of their eyes, and the sense of something dark waiting just beneath the surface made my skin prickle. Every part of me was screaming to escape, but for some reason, my feet kept moving toward the table, where I could already see people pairing off, masks in hand, ready for whatever came next.

As I picked up the mask, the room erupted again into the chaotic pulse, the sound of laughter and whispered conversations blurring into a background hum. But now, it wasn’t just a party. It was a game. And somehow, I had just stepped into something I didn’t fully understand.