Page 83 of Hunted By Valentine

It was almost noon before we finally left my cabin, and drove back to the city. After a filling lunch and another shower together, we crashed, both needing sleep after this morning’s exercise.

God, having her at my cabin, at my mercy, was fucking perfect. Sure, the sex was phenomenal, as was chasing her through the woods. But the real high was knowing how much she cares, that she worried about me.

Little by little, my pet has thawed the ice around the organ in my chest, making it beat once more. Only this time, it’s beating for her.

Sliding out of the bed, I stride over to the window and look outside. It’s dark again, and I feel a pull toward the streets. While draped in darkness, New York City is supposed to be my playground. But there’s been no time to let loose yet.

Turning around, I watch Ruby while she sleeps, I find that I like being here with her. It’s not like the Hunter will never come out and play, maybe he’ll come out sooner than I think since I’ve brought my bow back with me. But for now, I’m not in any rush to leave her.

She mumbles something in her sleep, her brows knitting together in a frown. She rolls to her otherside, restless.

Once I’m sure she’s still deep in her slumber, I slip out of my bedroom and quietly make my way to the kitchen. My body aches from the long drive, the tension of the morning sitting heavy on my shoulders. The hunt always brings a certain toll, but something feels different.

With a soft yawn, I brew a cup of coffee, the rich aroma filling the air as I sit at the counter, my laptop glowing in the dim light. The soft click of the keys feels almost rhythmic, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.

I didn’t find a single trace, proof, of anyone being at the cabin besides Ruby and me. I meticulously scoured a generous perimeter, combing through every inch of the snow-covered ground. No footprints, no evidence of another presence. On the surface, that should ease my mind.

But it doesn’t.

Sometimes, the proof is in the absence of it. There was one particular area that seemed too… pristine. The snow was undisturbed, smooth, and untouched, as if someone had intentionally erased their tracks. It was too perfect, too clean, in a setting that’s anything but orderly.

There weren’t even imprints from loose gravel, branches, or the usual debris you’d expect in the forest. And considering we both heard the branch snap, I’m certain someone was there, watching.

From the vantage point that made me suspicious, they would have had a clear view of me claiming my pet. A part of me relishes the idea of being seen, my dominance on display, but the thought of someone doing it without my knowledge—my approval—lights a fire of rage in my gut.

I sit back, my fingers tapping idly on the counter, waiting as the program flickers open across my screen. It’s a dark window into every corner of New York State, a God’s-eye view over the city.

The old King himself bestowed this gift upon me, and with it, I wield an unparalleled level of control. I peer into the lives of anyone I choose, but right now, there’s only one thing I care to find.

My pulse quickens as I navigate through the countless CCTV feeds, scanning for the one that will lead me to whoever dared intrude on my claiming. The minutes tick by, the tension rising with each passing moment, until—

“There you are,” I mutter under my breath, a wicked smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

On the screen, a few cars snake along the winding roads leading to the Catskill Mountains, their headlights cutting through the dense darkness like blades. But only one takes the same exit I did.

As I look closer, noticing the make and model, I recognize it all too well. Yeah, I’ve definitely seen it before. More specifically, I’ve seen it in the abandoned garage where I’ve previously met with Michael.

The timestamp confirms what I already suspected but didn’t want to believe.

Fury surges through me, a burning inferno threatening to consume everything in its path. Michael dared to follow me. He dared to break one of the unspoken rules of the game. No one has ever returned to the cabin. No one has ever followed me to my sanctuary. And yet, here he is, driving into my territory like he has the right.

In all my years as the Hunter, no one has ever gotten this close. Never. The urge to gut him, to leave his body as a warning to anyone else who might think about crossing me, is almost unbearable.

I should have ended him when I had the chance. But… I didn’t. A part of me thrives on order, on following the rules, even when they chafe.

We all have rules, and even though most of mine are self-imposed, they are still rules. One of the most sacred? Never kill a client while the job is active. It’s a matter of professionalism, not morality. I don’t claim to have a moral code, but that’s a line I’ve never crossed.

Yet.

If I can’t kill him outright, I’ll have to get more creative. My thoughts come so rapidly I press my fists against my eye sockets, trying to slow them down. The thought of Michael watching twists something inside me, something dark and primal.

As the beginnings of a plan take shape, I rise from my seat and make my way to the safe. The cold metal of the revolver feels comforting in my hand, a reminder of the power I wield. After placing the gun on the table, I return to the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe as I watch Ruby sleep.

Her ebony hair spills over the pillow like a raven’s wing, her face serenein slumber. Her body, so small, so fragile, lies vulnerable before me. A twisted feeling churns within me—possessiveness, yes, but also something else. Something far more dangerous.

I step closer and gently shake her awake. “Ruby,” I murmur, my voice low.

She stirs, her green eyes fluttering open. Confusion floods her gaze as she looks at me. “What is it?” she whispers, rubbing her eyes. Her voice is raspy, thick with sleep.

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