Page 35 of Hunted By Valentine

Iwantto prove Michael wrong, but more than that, Iwantto prove Valentine right.

My throat becomes dry, making me swallow hard. “I-I…” Trailing off, I clear my throat and square my shoulders. “I’ll do it.”

Chapter 14

The Prey

The words hang in the air for a moment, heavy with implications. Michael’s grip on my arm tightens painfully, but I force myself to stand tall. “I told you not to embarrass me,” he snarls under his breath.

“Get your hand off of her.” Jack’s tone is pure ice, his eyes daggers as he pointedly stares at where Michael is squeezing me.

“I can touch my wife all I want to,” Michael sneers, not budging.

Their voices fall into the background, becoming nothing more than a constant buzz as I once again look at Valentine. There’s a darkness in his eyes as he looks at my husband, and I’m not talking about the dark shades of color. No, it’s the kind that almost eclipses the whiteness, the stuff nightmares are made of.

But then he blinks; once, twice, and when he opens his eyes again, they’re filled with curiosity as I tentatively take first one step, then another. I don’t even notice Michael letting me go, I just continue letting my feet carry me to the stage.

The closer I get, the heavier my legs feel. Every instinct screams at me to retreat, to crawl back into the safety of invisibility. But Valentine’s presence behind me feels like a shield, urging me forward.

With each step, memories of Michael’s cruelty battle against the intoxicating possibility Valentine represents. I’m acutely aware of the weight of expectation pressing down on me, threatening to crush me.

Yet, as I ascend the steps to the stage, a strange calm washes over me. For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m making a choice for myself. It’s terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

The MC gives me a quizzical look as he first spots me, but as he realizes who I am, he beams. “Mrs. Simmons, what an honor. Do you want to say a few words?”

My throat feels like it’s clogging up, and all I manage is a small nod. While he introduces me to the crowd, I take deep breaths, doing my best to relax. Then I forge on, turning to face everyone. My heart pounds so loudly I’m scared everyone can hear it.

As I open my mouth to speak, I catch Valentine’s eye in the audience. He nods almost imperceptibly, and in that moment, I feel invincible. I take another deep breath, my gaze sweeping across the sea of expectant faces. The spotlight feels hot on my skin, but I refuse to let it melt me.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I begin, my voice stronger than I expected. “We live in a world of predators and prey. But tonight, I want to challenge that notion.”

I pause, letting the words sink in. Some audience members shift uncomfortably, while others lean forward, intrigued.

“In nature, survival often means taking from others. But we, as humans, have the unique ability to thrive by giving.” My eyes find Valentine’s, drawing strength from his approving nod. “Charity isn’t just kindness; it’s a powerful survival mechanism for our society.”

Despite Michael’s glare burning into me, I press on.

“When we support those in need, we’re not just helping them. We’re strengthening the very fabric of our community. Like a pack that protects its weakest members, we become stronger together.”

My words flow with a passion I didn’t know I possessed, fueled by Valentine’s influence and my own desperate need to make a difference.

“By lifting others up, we elevate ourselves. It’s not about prey becoming predators, but about breaking that cycle entirely.”

As I conclude, the room falls silent. For a moment, I fear I’ve made a terrible mistake. Then applause erupts from one corner, spreading like wildfire. Relief washes over me, but it’s short-lived.

I catch glimpses of varied reactions as I descend the stage. Some faces shine with inspiration, while others remain skeptical. The tension in the room is palpable, crackling like electricity.

My legs feel wobbly as I reach the bottom step. The mix of exhilaration and anxiety makes my head spin. I’ve done something I never thought possible, but at what cost?

As the crowd’s murmurs grow louder, I realize I’ve set something in motion that I can’t control. The predator-prey dynamic I spoke of feels all too real now, and I’m not sure which role I’ve cast myself in.

The words came easier than I thought they would. I can’t take credit for the analogies, they all come from Valentine. From his class, from his books. It’s clear that’s how he views the world, which, in my experience, is all there is to it.

As I look around for Valentine in the crowd, I’m disappointed when I don’t see him. But said disappointment quickly morphs into fear as I lock eyes with Michael. His nostrils flare as he dramatically slides his index finger across his throat. I’m in so much trouble.

I slip away from the buzzing crowd, my heart still pounding in my chest. Finding a secluded alcove behind a heavy velvet curtain, I lean against the cool wall and close my eyes, trying to steady my breathing.

The words I spoke on stage replay in my mind, each one feeling like Valentine’s puppet strings, guiding my every move. His influence over me is growing, and it both thrills and terrifies me.

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