I lean back on the steps, basking in the sun like a snake. I don’t belong in the daylight, but every now and again I need to absorb a little light to keep me warm.

“You know,” I start, tilting my head to one side as I watch students shrink and cower past us. They might bet against us, but they know better than to show open defiance. Unless they’re willing to join the Charter Crew and fight the war, they’re nothing but peons. “Once Victor and I are married—”

“Oh, so you have decided to grace me with your hand in marriage then? After the other night, I wasn’t sure you were still interested.” Vic’s dark voice reeks of butthurt, but you know, it’s not my fault if he feels emotionally raped by my words. I offered him an olive branch, and he essentially spit in my face.

I ignore him.

“Once we’re married,” I start again, raising my voice and turning my attention on Oscar. “You aren’t going to speak to me like that anymore.”

“How so?” Oscar asks, carefully setting the iPad aside and leveling his gray gaze on me. He obviously isn’t afraid of me. Either he can learn to respect me, or I’ll show him the true meaning of fear. “You think marrying Victor gives you some sort of status upgrade? Don’t fool yourself.”

I laugh, letting my head fall back, sunshine caressing my throat. I’ve bared it to this group of dangerous assholes, like a wolf who isn’t afraid to let her inferiors sniff her neck. I’m not afraid. Let them try to bite me and see what happens.

“Marrying Victor does give me a status upgrade,” I say, turning to look at the man in question. It’s impossible not to look at Aaron, too, seeing as he’s sitting on Vic’s other side, looking at me in just such a way that I wonder if today he might actually speak up, fight for me the way I’ve been craving since moment one. But, I guess not today, Satan. “Doesn’t it, Vic?” I ask, quirking a brow. He shifts uncomfortably on the step for a moment, turning his obsidian gaze to the street and narrowing his eyes.

I have his balls in a vise, and he doesn’t even know it.

Actually, the only reason that I know that is because he has my heart in one. I want to please him so badly and yet, I hate myself for it. I’m sure Victor feels the same way about me. That, at least, levels the playing field.

“You might be king of Havoc, but if you think I’m going to marry you and keep this crappy omega status you’ve granted me, you have another thing coming.”

Hael grins and offers me up a high five. I hesitate for a second, but decide to slap my palm against his in solidarity. He ends up yanking me down the steps and into his lap instead, putting his lips up against my ear.

“If Vic doesn’t want you to be his queen, I might have an opening you could fill?” Hael pauses for a second, frowning, and then flashes a shit-eating smile that makes my stomach flip. “Actually, it’s the other way around, isn’t it? You’re the one with an opening that needs filling.”

“Knock that shit off,” Vic snaps, watching us together. His dark eyes take me and Hael in with no small amount of jealousy. While it’s obvious that Victor doesn’t like what happened between me and Aaron yesterday either, it’s clear that finding Hael watching us pissed him off even more. And yet another thing I have to tell him: me and Cal at the studio. Fantastic. I’m sure that’ll go over about as well as a hurricane in Florida. “I’m not having this conversation here. We can talk about it later.” Victor lights up a cigarette, saluting one of the on-campus police officers who turns a blind eye to his disobedience, leaving me with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. How many cops does Havoc own? More or less than Neil?

I turn in Hael’s lap, straddling him and weaving my hands together behind his neck, his red hair tickling my fingers. It’s bloodred, so clearly a dye job, but after seeing his mother, it’s likely that he really is a ginger underneath.

His honey-brown eyes look down into mine, sharp fragments of pain hidden behind those vibrant irises. He’s still shaken from the incident on Saturday, and obviously there’s still something going on between him and his father. All the smiles, the braying laughter, the flirting, it’s a front for an entire firestorm of pain.

“I won’t let Oscar treat me like shit,” I tell Hael, stroking an ebony fingernail down the side of his smooth face. He never lets his stubble get the better of him, not like Vic or Aaron. Told ya, he’s the southside version of the popular boy—vibrant, charismatic, gregarious. If only he lived a different life, Hael could be something special. “But if Vic won’t stand up for me, will you?” I ask, glancing over at Aaron.

Callum watches us from the shadows of his hood, sipping on his Pepsi. It’s not uncharacteristic for him to be so quiet, but after what happened at the Halloween party, I’m seriously worried. I’ll admit, I’m struggling with all of the revelations.

The video.

The information about my Havoc price.

The fact that Vic told me they tortured me to put distance between us.

All of that.

Hael is just so … plucky, sometimes it’s hard to remember that he’s just as culpable as the rest of them. I mean, he is the H in Havoc, isn’t he?

“You want me to whip Oscar’s ass for your honor?” Hael asks, still grinning maniacally. “I mean, I’m not opposed to it. He’s skinny as fuck; I outweigh him by like seventy pounds.”

“Bernadette …” Victor warns, leaning over and putting his elbows on his knees. The look he throws me is cold hell.

I ignore him, putting my forehead up against Hael’s. He exhales and wraps his strong arms around my waist, smelling like coconut oil and old cars.

“Fucking grease monkey,” I murmur, and then I kiss him.

It’s pure fire, that kiss. We could light up the night with it.

Hael’s tongue slips between my lips as his hands slide down my sides to cup my ass through my leather pants.

“Jesus Christ,” Vic growls, throwing his soda can on the ground. It explodes in a rush of foam as he reaches down and grabs my chin. Hael’s jaw clenches tight and his hands squeeze even tighter on my ass. “When we get married, Bernadette Savannah Blackbird, you will be mine. And I’ll treat you as such. Oscar will mind his tongue. And next time he tries to do something stupid—like show you a fucking video of your sister being raped—it won’t be Hael that puts him in line, it’ll be me.”

“You can’t be serious?” Oscar asks, scowling as he puts his iPad aside. “You’re on a very short leash, Victor. Can’t you see it? This girl is going to ruin us.” Oscar gestures at me with one of his tattooed hands. His easy calm is slipping as I smirk at him, watching the repercussions of that expression ripple through his body. “She’s already creating cracks between you and Hael, you and Aaron.”

“Don’t use me as an argument against Bernadette,” Aaron says, turning away and subconsciously reaching across his chest to touch his shoulder. He grimaces slightly and grits his teeth, fingers curling in his sweatshirt. I’m surprised he even showed up to school today, everything considered. I would’ve preferred it if he’d stayed home to rest, but I guess that’s not how Havoc functions.