Page 56 of Hunting Harbor

I spin in a desperate circle, searching the trees for any sign of him, but the forest's edge has become a wall of impenetrable shadow. My chest heaves with each labored breath, sweat making my t-shirt cling to my back and my hair paste to my neck in damp tendrils. The cooling air raises goosebumps on my bare arms, or maybe that's just the feeling of being watched from the darkness.

"Kairo?" I call out, hating the tremor in my voice. "Is this what you wanted? Me out here, all alone?"

Silence answers me. The kind of silence that has weight, which presses against your skin and fills your ears with the sound of your own racing pulse. Not even the birds call now. The whole forest is holding its breath, waiting.

Then I see him.

He emerges from the trees directly across from me, his tall frame more shadow than substance in the fading light. But the mask—God, the mask is like something alive, its carved features seeming to shift and change with each step he takes. It transforms him completely, turning the man I've come to love into something else entirely, something that exists in the space between nightmares and darkest desires.

He moves with deliberate slowness, each footfall precise and calculated as he steps into the clearing. His body, clad entirely in black, seems to absorb what little light remains.

I should run again. That's how this game is played. But my feet feel rooted to the spot, my body frozen in a strange mixture of terror and anticipation. He continues his measured approach, closing the distance between us one agonizing step at a time.

"Please," I whisper, though I'm not sure what I'm begging for. Mercy? There will be none. Release? I don't want it.

When he's halfway across the clearing, some lizard brain instinct finally breaks my paralysis. I turn to flee back into the forest, but I've waited too long. He moves with sudden, explosive speed, crossing the remaining distance between us in a heartbeat. One moment he's yards away, the next his hand closes around my wrist with bruising force.

He spins me around to face him, the momentum slamming my body against his solid chest. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs in a startled gasp. Up close, the mask is even more terrifying. Its twisted features contorted in a grimace that couldbe agony or ecstasy or both. Behind the eye holes, Kairo's gaze burns into mine, pupils blown wide with the thrill of the hunt.

"Did you really think you could escape me?" His voice is deeper, rougher through the mask, barely recognizable as the man who whispers sweet things against my neck in the quiet hours before dawn.

I struggle against his grip, not because I want to get away, but because I know it excites him to feel me fight. His fingers tighten in response, hard enough to leave marks I'll discover tomorrow, souvenirs of this moment I'll press my fingers against to remind myself it was real.

"I never wanted to escape," I admit, my voice a ragged whisper. "I just wanted to make you work for it."

A low growl emerges from behind the mask, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine where our bodies press together. His free hand comes up to grip my throat, not squeezing, just holding… a reminder of his power, of my vulnerability. My pulse flutters wildly beneath his palm.

"You've been running from me since the day we met," he says, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw with surprising gentleness. "Always holding back, always keeping parts of yourself hidden. But not anymore. Now I have all of you."

And God help me, he's right. For the first time in my life, I'm not hiding anything. Not my darkest thoughts, not my twisted desires, not the broken pieces of myself I've spent years trying tokeep concealed. Kairo has seen it all, has been watching me all along, and still he wants me.

The realization makes me go limp in his grasp, my body surrendering before my mind can catch up. His grip on my wrist loosens slightly, but he doesn't let go. He'll never let go.

"What happens now?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

In answer, he hauls me over his shoulder and walks back towards the woods, setting me down gently, as he trails his thumb over the cut where the branch whipped at my face. He leans down and licks across it, cleaning it.

He pins me against the tree trunk. There's no space between us now, just heat and desperation. I struggle briefly, to feel his strength as he subdues me, his hands tightening around my wrists until I gasp. With one hand, he keeps me pinned while the other reaches for the mask. He pulls it away in a single fluid motion, revealing his face transformed by hunger, his dark blue eyes almost black with desire. My breath catches in my throat. This is Kairo stripped of pretense, of the careful charm he shows the world.

"Did you like what you found in that closet?" he asks, his voice a rough growl against my ear. "All those pictures, all that proof of how long I've been watching you?"

I nod, unable to form words as his free hand slides up to grip my throat.

"Use your words, Harbor," he demands. "Tell me how it felt to see yourself through my eyes."

"It made me feel..." I swallow hard against his palm. "Seen. Like you know every part of me, even the parts I try to hide."

His laugh is dark and dangerous. "Baby, there's nowhere you could hide from me. I know every inch of you. Every thought in that beautiful mind." His thumb traces the line of my jaw and down the valley of my breasts. "Every dirty little fantasy you've been too afraid to admit."

Our eyes lock, and in that moment, something passes between us—understanding, acceptance, recognition. We've both been hiding, both been waiting for someone who could handle our darkness.

In a sudden, violent movement, Kairo releases my wrists only to grab the front of my shirt and tear it open. Buttons scatter into the underbrush as the cool evening air hits my overheated skin. I should be cold, but all I feel is fire everywhere his gaze touches me.

"Fuck, look at you," he breathes, his hands rough as they move to cup my breasts through my bra. "So perfect. My beautiful little Harbor."

"Yours," I agree, as his mouth descends to my neck, teeth scraping along my pulse point before biting down hard enough to mark me. The pain blossoms and transforms, becoming something bright and sharp that makes me arch against him.

There's no pretense of gentleness now. His hands are everywhere tangling in my hair to yank my head back for better access to my throat, sliding beneath the waistband of my jeans to grip my ass, tearing at my clothes like they personally offend him. I'm just as frantic, my fingers fumbling with his belt, desperate to feel him against me with nothing between us.

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