Page 143 of The Hunt

“Good. The more we have, the better.”

Nikki stood up, raising her palms. “Okay, Everly, youhaveto stop keeping us in suspense,” she said. “You’ve obviously got a big idea. So please share it with the class.”

“All right.” I smiled thinly. “Here it is…”

33

Rhett

The northern wingof Wildercliff Manor loomed in the distance, its spires jutting against the afternoon sky like jagged teeth. It felt like the perfect metaphor for this fucked-up place—nice enough on the surface but designed to devour anyone who got too close.

I fucking hated it.

I gritted my teeth and pushed forward, my mind spiraling through the chaotic memories of the last day. My anger over the Patriarchs’ betrayal had been simmering since my confrontation with JJ, but right now it felt ready to boil over, destroying everything in its path.

Every society member had been fed the same lie, groomed to believe we were all warriors in some grand tradition, protectors of the Hunt’s sacred legacy. What a fucking joke.

We weren’twarriors. We were just big, brutish pawns in a sick game, shuffled across the board for amusement and profit. The Patriarchs didn’t actually care all that much about skills or merit. What they really cared about was filling their pockets at the expense of innocent people, letting them die at the savage hands of their ignorant pawns. Guys like me.

Then again… notallWilders were ignorant pawns.

JJ had known the truth about the society all along, courtesy of Peter, but it had never bothered him. He’d joined this year’s Hunt anyway, presumably because he enjoyed killing innocent people. And considering what Ev had told me about his sexual proclivities, he probably would’ve fucked the corpses of the victims if he wasn’t worried about being seen by the cameras that covered most of the island.

Sick fuck.

Then there were guys like Matt and Jordan. Also sons of Patriarchs. I wasn’t sure if their fathers had filled them in on all of the society’s dark secrets, but they behaved with an arrogance and impunity that could only come from knowing the rules would never apply to them. The way they’d treated Nikki was a perfect example of that. Fucking predatory pricks.

Not so long ago, I thought Ryan Gardner was an exception to the rest of us—a sleazy asshole who needed to be dealt with after he’d wormed his way into the society and behaved badly. Now I knew better.

Ryanwasan asshole, but clearly, he wasn’t an exception, and he wasn’t punished because the Patriarchs disapproved of his behavior toward women. He was punished because he lacked the power and privilege of other certain members, making him the perfect example to keep the rest in line. But guys above him in the social pecking order wouldn’t have been punished for the same crime at all. Guys like JJ, Matt, or Jordan.

Or me, because my father was a Patriarch too. A man who sat at the table where every decision was made, every lie spun. But not once had he told me the truth. Not once had he pulled me aside and said, ‘This is what’s really going on in the upper rungs of the society’.

I wondered why he’d never told me anything. Did he simply not trust me? Or was he waiting for the right moment, some grand reveal when it would serve a distinct purpose for him?

Or maybe he never intended to tell me at all. Maybe he saw me as just another pawn.

It didn’t matter in the end. Whatever my father’s reasons were, I wasn’t going to sit back and let him—or the other Patriarchs—use me anymore. Not without a fight.

Ev’s ingenious scheme would help with that.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I yanked it out to see a message from Nikki.Just got the pics you sent. They’re perfect. We’re sending them to Ev’s friend now.

I tapped out a reply.She’s definitely on board?

Nikki:Yup. Ev explained it all to her when we called. She was shocked (I mean, duh, who wouldn’t be??) but she understands the danger, so she’ll keep it under wraps until we say go. She’s also come up with the PERFECT caption for the post. Where are you at?

Me:Heading to the northern wing now. Gonna try to get my father’s phone.

Nikki:Good luck. Really hope you can get all that stuff…

After I entered the northern wing, I headed for the society’s common room on the first floor and pushed open the heavy oak door.

The scent of cigar smoke and aged whiskey instantly hit me. The room was a blend of old money and indulgence: mahogany-paneled walls, leather armchairs, and a bar stocked with liquor that probably cost more than most people’s yearly salaries. A fire roared in the oversized hearth on the far side, casting flickering shadows over the faces of the men scattered throughout the room.

My gaze swept the space automatically, cataloging who was there. Most of the Wilders were present, drunkenly laughing or arguing over bets, and a few hunters were there too, presumably having returned for some R&R before they headed back out to the hunting grounds. My focus zeroed in on a table near the far wall, where my father sat with Peter Jennings.

When I approached, both men looked surprised to see me. “Rhett,” Dad said, forehead creasing. “What are you doing here? I thought you were back out on the hunting grounds today.”

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