Page 107 of The Hunt

“I’m notthatsort of predator,” I said through gritted teeth. “Not like you, you sick fuck.”

He scoffed. “You’ve killed seven people in the last two days. So like I said… you’re in too deep. Try to take me or my father down, and you’ll go down too,” he said. “Also, if you try to embark on some sort of white-knight crusade against the society as a whole, you might not like what you find out about the other Patriarchs. And that includesyourfather.”

I rose to my feet, hands shaking with rage.

Fear flashed in JJ’s eyes. “Look, Rhett, I know you hate me now. But we’re brothers through the society, whether you like it or not,” he said in a low voice. “That means you owe me something.”

“What the fuck do you think I owe you?”

His gaze shifted to the knife. “Well, you obviously want to kill me. But grant me the courtesy of making it quick, okay?”

It was my turn to laugh. “Oh, no. You’re mistaken, man,” I said. “Veryfucking mistaken. I’m not going to kill you.”

Hope flared in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah.Really. You’re not my kill.” My lips spread in a mirthless grin. “You’re Everly’s kill.”

25

Everly

The rumbleof my empty stomach was impossible to ignore, and I wasn’t the only one feeling it. Nathan kept rubbing at his abdomen, wincing, while Chiara pressed her lips together, her face pale and drawn. Craig, on the other hand, was fidgeting, his gaze darting around the trees like he expected something—or someone—to jump out at any second.

We hadn’t spoken much in the hour since we left the underground safe zone, the quiet weighed down by the tension of our dwindling supplies and constant fear. The rations I’d shared from my pack had been enough to keep us moving, but not enough to make us feel human again. We were totally out of water, too.

“Are you okay?” Chiara asked, gently nudging me.

“I’m just hungry,” I murmured back. “Hopefully the next safe zone has food.”

“No, I meant… you’re bleeding.” She motioned to my neck. “Right there.”

I brought my hand up to touch my throat. The small nick Rhett’s blade made earlier had started bleeding again, worse than before. I must’ve absentmindedly scratched the tiny,newly-forming scab as I walked, not even registering the faint sting.

“Oh,” I murmured, my thoughts instantly catapulting me right back to those moments with Rhett. “I guess a branch got me.”

The memory of his knife against my skin sent a shiver down my spine, and I clenched my jaw, trying to push it away. I still didn’t understand what happened back there. Why did he let me go? Why didn’t he kill me when he had the chance? Even when I was literally begging for him to do it during a momentary lapse in sanity.

More importantly… why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? He scared the living shit out of me—he could’ve slashed my throat right there outside that cabin—but there was something else too. Something I could barely admit, even to myself. The way his touch lingered on my skin, the dark intensity in his eyes, the heat that simmered beneath all that fear...

God, I hated Rhett for making me feel this way. And yet, some small, traitorous part of me still wondered if he was out there in the fog, watching me. Waiting for another chance to claim me as his prey.

I clenched my fists, shoving the thought aside. I didn’t have time for this. Forhim. I needed to find the next safe zone, get some sustenance, and then try my best to find the tunnel entrance in the west. That mattered a hell of a lot more than the torturous ache between my legs; the one that silently begged for more of Rhett’s tongue, fingers, and cock.

Chiara frowned. For a second, I thought she didn’t believe me about the branch scratching my neck, but then she tilted her head. “Stop,” she whispered. She pointed to a nearby tree. “Do you see that?”

We all turned to look. Etched into the bark was a crudely drawn arrow, its lines deep and deliberate. It pointed to the northwest.

“Remember what they said at the start?” Chiara went on. “Some safe zones and supply caches aren’t announced. They’re marked with certain symbols instead.”

Nathan squinted, stepping closer. “You think it’s one of those?”

“What else would it be?”

Craig perked up, his exhaustion giving way to the faintest spark of hope. “Should we check it out?”

“We can have a look, but we should be careful. Some of the so-called safe zones are fake-out traps, remember?” I said.

Craig was already moving, following the direction of the arrow. “Well, we can’t starve. I’m checking it out.”

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