Page 72 of Deadmen's Queen

“Maybe,” I echoed, not entirely convinced. The figure's unnerving presence remained etched in my mind, making me feel vulnerable and exposed.

But I didn't argue further. Instead, I settled back into the heated seat, letting its warmth seep into my chilled body as Bast pulled away from the university grounds. He didn’t say much as we drove, and I laid my hand gently on his leg.

“Are you ok? You look tired.”

“I'm fine,” Bast replied, his eyes never leaving the road, but there was a tightness to his voice that suggested otherwise. “Just been busy, but I'm managing. Just a bit of coursework to do, business issues with my dad, plus a couple of things we had to handle for Nate's dad recently.”

“Nate's dad?” I echoed, my heart skipping a beat.

Bast sighed deeply. “He likes to call in favours. Sometimes we have to step in and help him out.”

“Why?" I asked, furrowing my brow, “If you guys clearly don’t like him?”

“We're all connected, Paige,” Bast replied, “Our fathers are some of the biggest players in the Shadow Syndicate and that means we have obligations that we can’t ignore.”

“Obligations that mean you have to get blood on your hands?” I asked quietly, and he nodded.

“Sometimes it's because he hasn’t got any of his men available, other times it's to keep us fresh and ready for anything.” His eyes slid sideways to me. “We’ve all got blood on our hands, Paige. Nate much more so than Tristan and I, but we’ve all killed under orders. And we will again. It’s the way the Syndicate works. If you accept us, you need to accept that.”

“So, you really want to take over from your father?”

“It’s not a question of whether I want to, I can't let him down,” Bast said simply, his tone hinting at an ironclad obligation that went beyond mere familial duty.

“And if your happiness lies elsewhere? Maybe your dad just wants you to be happy more than he wants a successor.” I suggested.

“I don't know what I'd do otherwise,” Bast confessed after a moment's silence.

“But you could find out,” I offered quietly, hoping he might consider the possibility.

Bast smiled bitterly, shaking his head slightly. “The idea of not having a concrete plan...it scares me.”

“Maybe you should practise giving up control every now and then? Try it on for size,” I said, smiling at him to try and lighten the mood.

Bast laughed. “And who would take control? You?”

“Maybe,” I said with a sly smile. Heat flickered in his eyes.

“I may hold you to that,” he said darkly. “But not this week. After all, it’s the Hunt on Saturday, and I want you to be ready for what’s coming.”

Chapter Twenty Six

BAST

I stood on the stage at midnight in the feasting hall, waiting for my Persephone. Tristan and Nate sat on their thrones, and the Reapers talked and laughed among themselves. The anticipation and excitement were running high. This was one of the most popular events of the season, and even I couldn’t help but look forward to it. Tonight, we’d get to hunt Paige through the forest. Our Persephone making her “escape”, only to be caught and punished for her audacity to believe she could ever be free of us. Only the Reapers in their final year would partake in the hunt. They needed to have been part of the club long enough to understand the price they would pay if they laid a hand on her. Thirty-four men in black clothing, hoods raised, skull masks in place, stood along the aisle that led to the stage. With us, that made thirty-seven hunters. They would chase her, steer her towards us, and we’d inflict her punishment then and there. My cock twitched just thinking about it, and I pushed the thought to one side. Right now, I needed to keep my head in the game.

The door to my right swung open, and Paige made her way up onto the stage. Any thought of the game flew straight out of my head as I took her in. She was a vision in white. Golden curls hung down her back, and a white filigree mask covered half of her face. The white silk dress was practically see-through, clinging to curves that sent my blood rushing south as my eyes took in her hard nipples and the darker triangle at the junction of her legs. Fuck. My body reacted instantly, hardening my cock and firing up an animal urge that clawed at my control.

“Jesus, Paige,” I muttered, my voice rough like gravel. She was beauty and chaos intertwined, a stark contrast to the dark, brooding forest that lay beyond the windows. Tonight, she would be the prey, and I would no longer be her protector, but the predator that hunted her in the night.

“You will be given a half hour head start. The Reapers will hunt you in the forest, as per tradition. It’s just the senior members, and they will not touch you.”

A shiver ran through her, and I didn't miss the flicker of doubt. "And if they do?"

“They won’t. They know the consequences,” I said, my voice cold. “Only me, Tristan, or Nate.”

She nodded, her implicit trust in my words nearly as much of a turn on as her outfit.

“Are you ready?.”

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