Page 81 of Doomed
Bianca’s breath catches, her movements becoming more deliberate as she realizes the effect she’s having. Her initial shyness transforms into a wanton confidence as she arches her back, putting on a show for our observers.
“Mine,” I growl against her skin, loud enough for our audience to hear. The two men shift uncomfortably, adjusting themselves beneath their tailored pants.
Whatever drama is unfolding across the room fades to background noise. All that exists is Bianca, the heat of her, and the knowledge that every person watching us knows she’s mine, not only for the hunt, but forever.
27
BIANCA
Islide off Knox’s lap on trembling legs, humming with aftershocks of ecstasy. I’d performed for an audience of Ravenwood’s elite—riding Knox while people watched, getting aroused by their stares. The memory should fill me with shame, but instead, a delicious thrill runs through me.
What has Knox done to me? Two days ago, I would’ve died before letting someone watch me like that. Now I’m disappointed it’s over.
“Time to go, princess.” Knox’s voice is rough as he adjusts himself. “The feast is finished.”
I glance around the room, taking in the disheveled state of the other women. Mira looks dazed as Xavier helps her to her feet. Cora is sprawled across three men’s laps, despite the emotional trauma of her father walking in initially. Lia and Sadie appear equally shaken, leaning against their hunters for support.
A woman in a black dress appears at my side. “This way, ladies. Time for you to be prepared for the ceremony.”
Knox gives me a gentle push. “Go with her. I’ll see you soon.”
We’re led to a dressing room where six masks rest on velvet cushions. Each one matches our hunters’ colors and styles. Thewoman picks up a blue porcelain mask with intricate designs that mirror Knox’s skull pattern.
“These signify your status as prey,” she explains, fitting it over my face. “Each hunter’s mark.”
I touch the cool surface, feeling the ridges of the design. Unlike my first plain mask, this one covers only the top half of my face—the opposite of Knox’s.
Mira receives a blood-red mask to match Xavier’s. Cora’s is gray with skull detailing, identical to the three men who claimed her. Lia’s emerald green matches Vane’s. Sadie’s pure white one mirrors Landon’s. Keira’s is the same black and yellow detailing as the two twins who claimed her. And I am so glad that it seems Elliot has finally come to terms with his true self. I saw him caught between two men in the orgy room, and you could tell he was having the time of his life. After entering as a hunter, he’s now being treated the same as prey and receives a silver mask.
“The claiming ceremony awaits,” the woman says. “And now everyone knows who you belong to.”
I catch my reflection in the mirror, the blue mask transforming me into someone I barely recognize—someone bolder. Someone who belongs to Knox Blackwood.
We follow the woman in black down a dimly lit hallway, our new masks marking us as claimed property.
The doors to the orgy room open once more, and my heart pounds against my ribs. The space has been transformed. Where before there was chaos and passion, now there’s ceremonial order. The hunters stand in a semicircle around a raised dais at the center of the room. I gasp when I notice the dais is covered entirely in mirror—a seamless reflective surface from edge to edge.
My eyes find Knox immediately. He stands tall among the other hunters, his blue skull mask in place. His gaze locks ontome with an intensity that feels like a physical touch, even from across the room. My steps falter.
Landon Blackwood is the first to step forward. His white mask gleams in the low light as he extends his hand toward Sadie. She looks pale beneath her matching mask, her fingers trembling as she places them in his.
“I claim Sadie Reynolds for one full year. She belongs to me completely.”
Sadie’s throat works as she swallows hard, but she doesn’t protest as Landon leads her to the mirrored dais.
A warm hand slides around my waist, and I jump.
“Easy,” Knox murmurs against my ear. “I’ve got you.”
I lean into him instinctively, drawing strength from his solid presence. Around us, the other girls and Elliot move toward their hunters—Mira to Xavier, Lia to Vane, Cora to her three captors, Elliot to Julian, and Keira to the twins. We stand in silent anticipation.
My eyes are drawn to the mirrored dais where Landon guides Sadie with firm hands. Despite the pristine white of his mask, there’s nothing pure about the way he positions her.
“I don’t want this,” Sadie hisses, but her voice lacks conviction. “Not like this. Not with everyone watching.”
Landon doesn’t respond with words. Instead, his fingers trace patterns across her skin. I find myself mesmerized by the way he breaks through her defenses—a whisper at her ear, a firm grip on her hip, a slow caress that makes her shudder despite herself.
“Stop,” she protests, yet arches toward him.
