Page 23 of Hunted

Alexandre takes my chin between his thumbs and squeezes lightly. “Don’t lie to me, petit loup,” he chides, but his voice lacks venom. Instead, he plants another kiss on my head, releases my chin, then barks something to Edouard, who lets out a roaring laugh in return before he gets up and stalks our way.

“Come on. Let’s get dressed and go back to the castle.” Alexandre pulls decisively on my hand.

It takes me an awkwardly long time to gather my casually abandoned garments, thanks to Edouard who’d carelessly tossed them on the floor earlier, but I manage. My uniform sits stiff around my tired and sore limbs, pressing on the welts and bruises with every jerky movement, and I guess I wasn't lying after all. I really am tired. And curious, as to what Alexandre still has in store for me.

We take a few steps toward the bushes, where a small, bold suited bodyguard meets us in the bushes. “Follow me, sir,” he quips, voice surprisingly high.

As we slowly leave the scene of music, incense and eccentric rituals, realization slowly settles in the pit of my stomach. I could have won the bag with money. Instead I won the Wicked Chase.

“Am I now a brother?” I ask Alexandre once we sit down in the back of the Audi. He turns to face me, his eyes searching mine, lingering before he answers.

“You are.” His answer is void of amusement, though I can’t be sure. For most of the night, I felt cherished. Wanted. Chosen. But with every meter the car separates us from the enchanted night and brings us a step closer to reality. I can’t help the nagging feeling that tells me that this was all part of some parody that's now finished.

What was it that Elder Jacques said?

You are here for our entertainment, and entertained we shall be.

He also said that I was now a brother to the Alpha Fraternarii, I remind myself mockingly. Still…I was—am—the timid librarian, and he is Alexandre Arnault, part of the elite of the elite. Miracles don’t exist, that’s what Mom used to say.

Licking my lips, I glance over next to me, to where he is already looking at me with those endless, obsidian pools. “Or is this…these games, as you refer to it, a one-time thing?”

Alexandre clears his throat, as if he doesn’t understand. Then—“Elaborate.”

“Well,” this time it’s my throat that feels thick with hesitation. “You don’t need to keep me. I mean, that’s what you usually do, right? Have a fling with someone, only to move on after that?” I manage to swallow, but the lump is still there, together with an increasing sensation of wariness. My cheeks flame and I don’t really know why. A memory of Theo passes my mind, and I think about our boring, comfortable partnership. Why is this so different?

Alexandre just chuckles, his usual raspy, sensual vibration back in place. He has replaced his dark cloak for a simple pair of pants that looks similar to mine, and an equally blue shirt, the top buttons open. They offer me the perfect view of his hardened chest. Of all that smooth skin.

I look away, but he won’t let me. A possessive hand brushes over my chin, grabbing me tight, pulling me in and closer to his dipping head. Our mouths touch ever so softly and my nerve-system lights up, despite my fatigue.

“You’re mine, Olivier. I told you this.” He squeezes tighter, lips curling up when I let out a pained yelp against his mouth, pupils dilating at the sound. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

I nod, pain erupting in my system once more as he strains his digits even more. “I’m yours.”

“Good.” His touch transforms back into a gentle swipe and he dips his gaze as his fingertip trails the reddened spot on my skin. “Vas-y, Jean,” he barks to the driver, his eyes still on mine. “We’ll head back to our dorms.”

The ride is slow and bumpy as we follow the trail of SUVs and limos.

“Do you often do this?” I ask, staring outside as we pass the hidden glass house. “These secret meetups? And how come no one knows of them in college?”

“Oh, people know, petit loup. Those who need to know about them. The others…not so much. But then they’re not invited, are they? The Atrium—” he continues, pointing toward a glass house that looks more like a 1900’s built giant Aviary, that I’ve never seen before. It seems to be hidden in the forest, despite its substantial size as we pass it. Large floor to ceiling windows reflect in the darkness, with only a hint of large plants visible from inside the building. It looks beautiful, a little mystifying. But then, everything about the Alpha Fraternarii seems to be of that sort. “Our Initiations either take place in the dungeons of the South Wing, or here in the Atrium,” Alexandre continues. His fingers have found the back of my hand, where they trace slow circles that awaken a gentle vibration in my stomach and muscles that crave to relax. “And to answer your other question, we don’t often hold these secret meetups. But enough to keep them interesting.”

“Interesting, hmm?” I nod at the woods, as I digest his answer. “And what is it that you do during these Initiations to make them interesting?” Turning his way, I catch his widening smirk.

Alexandre lets out a breathy laugh. “We have sex. Lots of it, petit loup.”

My stomach fills with sizzles, and while I lick my dry lips, I look at him, trying to find the lie. “Really?” I finally choke out.

“Really.” Alexandre’s smile turns predatory, unlike his soothing touch on my hand. “Some of the brothers like to share. Some like to watch. Others like to fuck strangers. Just like we did tonight.” He pauses and what follows is an uncomfortable silence as we still bump over the forest ground until we reach for the flat sand trail that directs us back to the gates of Monterrey Castle. In front of us, most cars carry on the trail, heading toward the main road, but we take a right, cross the gate and head back to our dorms.

I try to think of his answer, but my head swims once more, thoughts scrambling. He watches me, the side of his mouth curved up, straight teeth somehow blinking in the night.

“How is that golden tooth allowed in college?” I wonder out loud. Alexandre’s grin widens and his inky dark eyes flash with mischief.

“Speaking of a change of subject.” He lets out a laugh, that turns darker, more wicked and he squeezes my hand and starts pulling me in. Our hips touch. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear.” Alexandre leans in and brushes a few strands from my ear, dipping his lips so they can trace the curve of my earshell. I shiver. Outside, the castle’s contours come into view, lit up by the moon and the stars, and by a projected shape against the ancient stone walls. The shape of a bird. I swallow and stare. It’s a crow. “From what I just explained, you conclude that we aren’t much different from any other fraternity,” he mumbles into my ear, his breath warm and wet against my shuddering flesh. “And we aren’t. We love to enjoy our college years and try to do as much as God forbids us. But there’s more than meets the eye.” He pulls back only to catch me staring at the projected, golden bird that lights the ancient stones of Monterrey Castle, then lets out a husky chuckle that makes my stomach flutter.

“We are special, petit loup. Ancient and privileged. An anchor in our society. We’re everywhere.”

I instantly push him away, snarling, “It seems to me, that you’re nothing more than a spineless group of spoiled, rich kids who like to fuck.” Unsure why his words make me feel so upset, I turn away, heaving, only to realize that we are no longer moving.

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