“Work together?” I repeat, suspicious.
He nods, the silver skull mask catching the blue light. “Think about it. Two hunters have better odds than one. If we find a girl together, we could... share.”
The way he sayssharemakes my skin prickle with both apprehension and something else I refuse to acknowledge. I know exactly what he’s doing—it’s a ploy, a trap designed to keep me close to him.
“What’s in it for you?” I ask, eyes darting past his shoulder. Somewhere in this maze, my chance is hiding.
Julian shrugs. “The Hunt can get boring. Same game every time. This way, we both win... in various ways.”
I weigh my options quickly. The odds aren’t great—fifteen hunters chasing six women. Julian’s right about one thing: two hunters working together have a better chance of cornering prey.
But can I trust him? Absolutely not.
“Fine,” I say finally, keeping my voice neutral. “But we’re hunting women, Julian. That’s it.”
His laugh is soft and knowing. “Of course, Elliot. What else would we be hunting?”
We start moving down the corridor together, Julian ahead. I keep my distance from him, watching his movements carefully. Every few steps, he glances back at me, and I can almost sense his smile behind that skull mask.
“You know the layout?” I ask, trying to focus on the Hunt rather than the man beside me.
“Better than most,” he replies. “I’ve had more Hunts than you.”
The implication hangs in the air between us. I ignore it.
“Let’s try the east wing,” I suggest. “There are more hiding spots, but fewer exits.”
Julian nods. “Smart thinking. See? We make a good team already.”
I don’t respond to that. This alliance is temporary—a means to an end. I need to catch one of the women, and Julian’s help increases my chances. But I won’t let my guard down. Not for a second.
We make our way through another corridor when the unmistakable sound of moaning stops us both in our tracks. Julian holds up a hand, and we pause, listening. The sounds grow louder as we approach a doorway.
Julian doesn’t hesitate, walking straight inside. “Well, well,” Julian says with that amused drawl. “Looks like Xavier caught a prize.”
“Pretty little thing, isn’t she?” I add with a low whistle of appreciation, trying to maintain my composure despite the scene before us.
Her face flushes with what appears to be humiliation and rage. I can see her silently fuming at being discussed like an object rather than a person.
“Gentlemen,” Xavier addresses us without looking away from her. “Perfect timing.”
She renews her struggles against the restraints, the leather bench creaking under her movements. I watch, transfixed, as she fights against bonds that clearly won’t give.
“Please,” she gasps, her voice carrying a desperate edge that sends a tantalizing thrill through me. “Don’t do this.”
Xavier’s hands settle on her hips, his fingers pressing into the red silk. “Oh, sweetheart. We’re just getting started.”
I swallow hard as he pushes the fabric up her thighs, exposing more of her skin. She tries to close her legs, but the restraints keep her spread wide and vulnerable.
“Beautiful,” I murmur, the word escaping before I can think better of it.
Xavier’s palms smooth along the backs of her thighs, parting them further despite her resistance. I watch her bite down on her lip, clearly trying to prepare herself.
Then his mouth is on her, and I can’t look away. Her gasp echoes through the room, and I feel heat rising in my neck.
Xavier works with obvious skill. I can see her body responding despite her clear protests. My own body reacts traitorously to the display, and I shift uncomfortably, hoping Julian doesn’t notice.
Her hips buck involuntarily as Xavier continues his relentless attention. A moan escapes her, and I feel my pulse quicken at the sound.