Page 18 of My Masked Stalker
But I’m not smiling. Because when I glance past her shoulder, deeper into the stalks, two pale eyes gleam through the mask of shadow. Fixed. On. Me.
My breath catches in my throat, and my fingers clench into fists inside my cloak.
The wolf has entered the maze.
11
KILLIAN
As I stalk my prey through the maze, my blood feels like it’s on fire from anticipation, the adrenaline of the hunt. She can’t escape me here. I filmed the corn maze with a drone and memorized the layout in advance—she might as well be on my territory.
I stick to the shadows, moving unseen by the two girls until restlessness makes me want to tease Emily with my presence. I scoff to myself. I’m probably the most patient man I know, and yet, when it comes to a tiny kindergarten teacher, I’m like a toddler wanting his toy right this instant.
My knife presses against the inside of my boot, reminding me it’s as thirsty as I am. I saw that soon-to-be-dickless asshole put his hands on my girl. They’re going to make an excellent Christmas present. I grin under the ridiculous wolf’s skull mask I have on. I can’t wait to throw it away, right before I bury my head in my Emily’s sweet cunt.
Her laugh cuts through the maze, soft and nervous, and my cock throbs at the sound. She knows she’s vulnerable right now. Does she realize she never even stood a chance? From the moment she stole my interest, she was lost.
The corn whispers around me as I slip through a gap in the stalks, brushing the dry leaves with my shoulders. The mask is hot against my face, sweat beading beneath it, but I don’t care. The skull, the wolf, the predator—it’s all part of the game. And my Little Red is almost at the center.
I crouch, watching her cloak flicker between the rows. Scarlet against gold. A beacon. A fucking target made just for me.
“Ems?” Barbara’s voice floats down the path, too loud, too careless. Emily answers, a softer murmur I can’t make out. I don’t need to. I can feel her nerves through the air, the way prey always knows when the hunter is near.
I ghost them for another turn, my every muscle coiled tight, before letting the tip of my boot crush a husk on purpose. Emily freezes. I can see it in the tilt of her hood, the way her head jerks toward the sound. My pulse pounds, a savage rhythm.
That’s right, sweetheart. Feel me. Know I’m coming for you.
I bare my teeth in a hiss and palm my cock through my pants, squeezing it to try and relieve some of the pressure. She’s fucking killing me with her innocence, with her helplessness. And I know exactly what she’s wearing underneath that cloak. And what sheisn’twearing. I told her to leave her panties at home, and I know she obeyed. She’s a good girl.
Emily isn’t listening to Barbara as she prattles on. I can tell by the way she keeps glancing over her shoulder. I know what turn they’ll take at the fork ahead, but I want my Little Red alone. Time to make that happen. I pull out the little remote I prepared and flick the switch, watching with satisfaction as the string lights in this section go dark.
The girls gasp as darkness crashes down on them like a curtain. Barbara curses, and Emily says something back, her voice softer, but threaded with panic.
I slip ahead through a path no one else knows about, one I made in advance, crouching low, moving silently. By the timethey shuffle into the next corridor, I’m already there, waiting in the shadows. When Emily passes me, close enough that I catch the faint trace of vanilla and cider clinging to her hair, my chest expands with a growl I barely swallow. She has no idea the wolf is inches away, watching, choosing the exact moment to sink his teeth in.
I reach out and tug on the red cloak I gave her—just the faintest brush of my fingers against the velvety fabric. She gasps and whirls, but I’m already back in the shadows.
“Girl, you’re so skittish,” Barbara teases her, having no idea that Emily has every reason to be jumpy, and they all have my name.
My girl doesn’t even notice when her friend moves on, she’s so focused on where she thinks I am, where I was just a moment ago.
“Are you ready to be claimed, sweetheart?” I whisper from my hiding spot, just low enough she hears me, but her friend doesn’t.
“Shit!” Emily hisses.
“Come on, Ems!” Barbara’s voice comes from further away.
My Red turns, her hand pressed to her chest where I imagine her heart is beating wildly. Beating for me. When she sees her friend is nowhere in sight, she starts walking in the direction they were heading, picking up her pace. It’s not long until she trips in the dark, landing on all fours with a grunt. When she inspects her palms, I click my tongue at her carelessness—only I’m allowed to make her bleed.
“B—Barbs?” she calls out for her friend, voice shaky. My eyes have adjusted to the dark, and I can see hers are wild, frightened.
She staggers back to her feet, brushing dirt and corn silk off her cloak, but she doesn’t move forward right away. Her gray eyes dart around the shadows, and her breath comes too fast. She knows. Shefeelsme.
“Barbara?” she tries again, louder this time. The maze swallows the name whole, no answering voice coming back.
I step closer, silent, close enough that I can smell the cider still clinging to her breath. Close enough that I could grab her. But I don’t. Not yet.
“You’re not alone, baby,” I whisper again, a low growl that rides the rustling corn. “I’m right here.”
