Page 5 of Hunted

Bronze Mask starts playing the piano with short, staccato notes. The instrument is completely off key, making the sound shrill and off-putting.

“Cut it out, fucker,” Golden Mask grumbles, still fiercely fucking. I can’t help but huff out a laugh, despite the lack of amusement.

“There once was a boy named Olivier,” Bronze Mask starts with a playful tone and my smile freezes on my lips as my chest tightens with anxiety. “He lived in a beautiful mansion in the middle of nowhere, and had a sweet, sweet boyfriend.” He drops his voice to a whisper.

The rest of my frozen smile drops and I suck in my bottom lip, heart thumping in my chest.

“Oh. So. Sweet.” Bronze Mask taunts with venom in his voice, then plunges onto the keys and continues singing.

“If you want to spend daddy’s money you need to get a degree, so here you are, little wolf, in the playfield of our brotherhood.” His voice lingers a beat while his fingers continue stabbing. High notes, low notes, fast and piercing, the sound is making my ears ring. “Rumours are made to be true, and between the walls of Monterrey Castle the shadows of the past rule.”

Behind me, with a loud, satisfying rumble, Golden Mask climaxes, but I’m too pent-up to care. Too tense to move, I can only stare as Bronze Mask continues this little charade.

“In he walked, through the doors of Saint-Laurent and right into the belly of the beast, Olivier Besnier. Where’s your boyfriend now?” Bronze Mask leans back onto the stool and turns to watch me, a wicked grin on his face. “Gone. Poof! Right up into the air. Like he never existed in the first place.”

In my hold, Nova whinnies, and I click my tongue on instinct, calming her down. A bit further down, I watch Golden Mask ruffle the participant’s hair as he lets him slowly lick his spent cock clean.

I swallow, unsure of why these words hit home so fiercely. Every single event Bronze Mask brought up so far was part of a mutual decision. A decision that has, nevertheless, made me who I am today. A gray mouse, a side-character. Shy. Introverted. Though I won’t let him make me feel inferior. After all, I didn’t want to leave home, but the trust fund is worth too much to ignore. It secures my future, and despite not knowing what I want to do after graduation, I do know that I’m going to need that money regardless. Besides, Mom is too busy being miserable with life to really miss me, and she encouraged me to go, spread my wings and fly. And with regards to Theo… yeah, that was mutual as well.

“Stop taking me for a fool,” I growl, annoyed.

Bronze Mask’s finger lashes out on two notes, high and accusatory, all amusement gone in a blink of an eye. “You are a fool,” he sneers, no longer singing but hissing instead. “Right now, I see no difference between you and him.” He jabs a finger toward where the other participant has moved down to licking Golden Mask’s balls. “Pliable. Obedient. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love for you to be all those things with me,” another one of those filthy winks. “But for the right reason. Look at you, holding my horse.” He plays another set of false, fast-following notes. “Even though you know what will happen next.” He looks up. “You do know what will happen next, right?”

And just like that, it feels like oxygen is being sucked out of the air. Bronze Mask is hot and cold, ironic and sarcastic, out there to strike.

I carefully nod, ignoring the way my heart hammers in my ribcage.

Do I, though?

“Tell me. Tell me what’s about to happen to my little wolf.” Bronze Mask rolls up a dark glove until it reveals an obnoxiously bright watch. Then, without waiting for my answer, he says, “It’s nearly one o’clock, bravo. This is the longest you have lasted. Now, let’s get to the fun part, shall we?” He rustles his fingers over the notes in one fluent motion, causing the instrument to tilt. “Can’t believe how Dominique used to play that thing,” he mutters.

“He never uses this piano anymore, dick,” Golden Mask huffs.

“Hmm, very well.” Bronze Mask looks back at me. “Now? Tell me, what’s going to happen now?”

My mind stutters. “You’re going to ride after me.” I rasp. Why the fuck does that thought make me hard? It does though, my cock hot and throbbing once more in my pants. I want to cover it up with my hand, but I’m afraid he’ll see. “You’re going to make me run.”

“Voila, mon petit loup.” He smirks. “You see? You are a clever one.” When he sweeps himself up from his stool,I flinch, then pull on the rein while briefly contemplating if I should swing my legs over the animal and just take off. I totally should. But the idea of him hunting me down… Oh, god, what the hell’s wrong with me? “Got any questions?” Bronze Mask asks. He’s approaching me once more, his swaying hips full with that swagger that all the elite apparently carry.

“Your name?” I croak, before clearing my throat, feeling my cheeks flush.

“My name?” His lips tick up, though he looks properly baffled. “Of all the things you wish to know, such as what will happen to you if you get eliminated—” He gives the guy at Golden Mask a meaningful once-over— “Or if you win this actual game, you decide to ask me for my name?”

“Uhm—yes?”

Bronze Mask drags his lips up to a devilish smirk, then takes over the reins from the horse, leaving me feeling strangely vulnerable. For a moment I think he will just ignore my question, but then he says, “D’accord. My name is Alexandre.” He mounts the horse with a single smooth movement, then looks down at me. “Alexandre Arnault.”

3

ALEXANDRE

I’m a player. Always have been. I like both men and women, as long as they ooze sex appeal. The idea of attending a boarding college for boys was as thrilling as it was off-putting, the thought of being stuck with dudes for the next undefined number of years a little suffocating. It troubled me those first months, the idea that perhaps I would be the only guy in here who wanted to have my way with another guy.

Until one night, when Dad took me aside and explained the existence of the Alpha Fraternarii. He took me on a journey through the history of time and explained about the creation of the secret brotherhood, which was founded during the French Revolution. I would receive my invitation shortly, he promised, the news sending an inexplicable, enigmatic buzz through my veins. As if my body had already understood all those unspoken words. A promise for an altered and bright future.

Very bright indeed.

My very first Initiations were interesting. A blow to my pride and sense of self-respect for sure, as I was requested to slide down my knees and warm the cock of one of the Elders as he sat preaching to the other participants. My future brothers. The only thing that stopped me from gagging and retching his release all over the dungeon floor, was the knowledge that this would soon be over and done with and that I too, would be a brother. That I too, would be able to take my pick and bring someone else to their knees soon.

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