Page 7 of Hunted

That first time, when The Wicked Chase started, he proved to me that he really was everything I’d ever wanted. Boy…the way he ran from me, the way he went crazy with fear? That hit all my fucking buttons. I craved more, more, more. I wanted to hunt him down and hurt him, soothe his pain and make him feel better. I wanted to fuck him and claim his very existence.

After that time, when we all went home for Easter, I couldn’t keep my thoughts to myself anymore and confided in Dad. With him, nothing is off the table. His guidance has kept me on the right path all these years. An advantage in business, since I’ll be working under him after graduation in our large export firm, and in my personal life too.

I told him it felt special, leaving out the part that the guy in question, hadn’t met me yet. He said that he was happy for me.

But nothing like I am. I am fucking thrilled, have been ever since I had the privilege of testing my precious bola on real flesh. Beautiful. The way it made him go down on a loud crash, his beautiful face distorted into a cocktail of agony and pain.

Fucckkk…yeah, that made me hard.

The second Wicked Chase was a repetition of the first one. Short, thorough, satisfying, though it left me craving for more. Plenty more. With merely the hint of a promise, my appetite only increased over the past weeks, and the knowledge that tonight is showtime, that we have already entered the scene and are about to perform the star roles, makes me feral with need.

I’ll get to have my chosen one, get to claim him here in Monterrey forest during a sweet summer night, surrounded by all our brothers.

Right after I mount Nova, Olivier tips his head back over his shoulder as if to inspect our surroundings. Inky-black with rustling leaves cast in shadows, a little further the hint of the torches that light up the sand trail. The reflection of my shiny mask.

“Alexandre Arnault,” he repeats on a thoughtful mumble, looking back at the horse, simultaneously taking a step backwards when she takes one forward, nickering.

He’s cautious, but he’s not fleeing. It’s like he wants me to tell him to start this chase.

“At your service, petit loup,” I murmur and his eyes flick up to mine. He looks perfect like this in the moonlight, the softest of delicate glitters decorating his dark mask. His nostrils flare at the pet name, and my pants tighten even more. Fuck me, he likes this. Could there be a whole different persona hidden behind the sweet demeanour of this timid librarian? Some raw, unedited version of Olivier that he’s only exposing after he’s been caught? “I think it’s time for the both of us to get fed, what do you say?”

His mouth parts in surprise, bottom lip trembling ever so slightly. Leaning in slowly, making sure to give him enough time to pull back—which he doesn’t—I brush my fingertip over the soft flesh, once more surprised, though thrilled, that he lets me. He must have been surprised too, because a moment later, he takes a step back, bristling. But still not leaving.

My cock thickens even further.

Yeah, he enjoys this, no matter what he says.

“You like a little pain, don’t you?” I rasp. Olivier shakes his head on a jerk, green eyes wide, lips quivering. His response makes me smirk. “I know you do. So what about this?” I check my watch once more, pretending I don’t know the exact time it is, before I roll my black glove back in place. Then I look at where Edouard is still standing, arms crossed, his golden mask perfectly in place as he watches his prey being escorted by our bodyguards now that he has been eliminated. Tonight’s Initiations will take place outside, upon my request, so Edouard doesn’t have to walk far. He will, however, call my cousin, former Silver Mask, Maël, who will most likely want to be present with his chosen one. The same goes for Arsène and Robin.

And then…after tonight…it will be Edouard’s call and game over for the poor fucker who has been avoiding my brother for months now. I am curious to see what will happen during the next chase. Not that I’ll be there.

Non. I’m about to claim what’s mine, and by the way Olivier is watching me breathlessly, he fucking knows it too.

“Are you going to hurt me?” He asks.

Clicking my tongue for Nova to start walking, we slowly circle Olivier as he stares up, watching me, turning around on his heels so he can follow my rotations. “Uh uhh,” I tssk, reveling in taunting him. “You already had your question.”

“No! I mean, last time…” His voice falters, but we both know what he’s referring to. Last time I did hurt him, and I didn’t like it one bit. It’s because he ended up running toward me, unexpectedly, on the trail, rather than away from me. Nova could only avoid his sudden presence in front of us last-minute, but my bola couldn’t. I hit him in the back and he went crashing down. Okay…I did like that part, and that includes the tears streaming down his face. God, they made that sweet, puffy face look even more vulnerable as I held him in my hands and brought him back to security. But I didn’t like the next morning, when Elder Jacques told me that Olivier had a bruised rib and that I needed to be more careful next time.

“I truly apologize for what happened last time, and I hope you received my flowers? Tonight won’t have the same outcome.”

Olivier’s gaze narrows as he makes the connection. Yes, baby boy, those were my flowers. And my cards. And my sweets by your bed. “Wh—wh?—”

I don’t let him finish his stammering, instead call out to Nova to make a move. We’ll have time later to talk. Now I’m starving and in need of my proverbial dinner—a stammering, blushing, little wolf who’s about to be tamed.

Nova throws her front legs in the air and Olivier lets out a yelp before he takes a few quick steps back. Grabbing him by his shoulder, I lean in as far as I can without losing my balance, reach for his ears with my lips, and give him a teasing lick. “Run, petit loup.”

4

OLIVIER

“Non,” I protest, but the moment the word leaves my mouth, nothing more than a raspy snarl, I deflate. Fuck, he’s right. I know what’s about to happen, I’ve done it before. For the other participants the Wicked Chase was a novelty, a chance for fame and fortune. Despite our silence earlier, when we were being escorted through the castle gardens in our school uniform, wearing our dark masks, toward the forest and the Elder with his golden cane, the air was thick with excitement. They were excited. Guys I go to school with. Hell, guys who could be first years like myself, for all I know. But I don’t have that same excuse. I’ve been here before.

I’m here again, and with every minute I pass in Alexandre’s presence, I want more of him.

He has me drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Tonight he looks glorious, dangerous and handsome, in bronze and black, a personification of the name of the games—The Wicked Player. I let out a wry laugh, shaking my head. Yup, I seem to have lost my mind.

Nova whinnies and takes a step forward, and Alexandre leans forward and reaches out a gloved hand.

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