Chapter 17
THE FAWN
Consciousness seeps in slowly, my mind reluctant to leave the warm cocoon of sleep.
I feel the solid weight of an arm draped across my waist, the heat of a body pressed against my back. For a moment, I allow myself to sink into the comfort, to pretend that this is normal, that I'm waking up in the arms of a lover and not my captor.
But reality is a cruel mistress, and she won't be ignored for long. My eyes flutter open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of the hotel room.
The events of last night come rushing back.
The dinner.
The knife.
The way Lucian claimed me so thoroughly, so completely.
I can still feel the ghost of his touch on my skin, the ache between my thighs a reminder of the pleasure he wrung from my body. Shame and desire war within me, a twisted tangle of emotions that I'm not ready to unravel.
How can I crave the touch of the man who's hunting me? A man who's made it clear that he intends to break me in every way possible?
Behind me, Lucian stirs, his arm tightening around my waist. "Good morning, little fawn," he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep. "Sleep well?"
I shiver.
I'm fucking insane, aren't I?
I swallow hard, trying to ignore the way my body reacts to the sound of his voice, to the feel of his breath against my neck. "As well as can be expected, given the circumstances."
He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "And what circumstances would those be? Waking up in the arms of a man who gave you more pleasure than you've ever known?"
I elbow him in the ribs, a futile gesture of defiance. "Waking up in the arms of a psychopath who's hunting me for sport," I mutter.
"Ah, but what a way to go." I can hear the smirk in his voice, the dark amusement that never seems to leave him. "Speaking of which, it's time to start your training."
I twist in his arms, facing him with my brow furrowed. "For what?"
He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle despite the calluses on his fingers. He has the face of a model and the hands of a fucking hitman. "To become better prey, of course. I did promise to help you, didn't I?"
I stare at him, searching for any hint of deception in his gray eyes. But as always, he's an unreadable mask, his true intentions hidden behind a veil of charm and danger.
I guess he wasn't just saying that to get me into bed, after all.
"And why would you do that? Why help me when you're just going to hunt me down again?"
His lips curve into a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Because I want you at your best when I catch you, as I said before. I want a challenge, not a lamb to the slaughter."
I shudder again. "Alright," I say, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart. "What did you have in mind?"
He sits up, the sheets falling away to reveal his muscled torso.
"Get dressed. We're going for a little trip."
The woods are quiet, the only sound the crunch of leaves beneath our feet. Lucian leads the way, his strides long and sure, while I struggle to keep up. My body aches from the previous night's activities, and there are bruises blooming on my skin like dark flowers.
Eventually, we emerge into a small clearing, the trees giving way to a grassy expanse. In the center, there's a makeshift shooting range, with targets set up at varying distances.
When the hell did he set this up?
I turn to Lucian, my eyebrows raised in question. "What is all this?"
He shrugs, a casual gesture that belies the intensity in his eyes. "I told you, I'm going to train you. And the first lesson is learning to shoot."
I blink at him, surprise and apprehension warring within me. "You want me to learn to shoot? Why?"
He steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. "Because I might not always be the only one hunting you, little fawn. There are others out there, predators who would love nothing more than to sink their teeth into your sweet flesh."
I shudder at the thought, at the idea of being pursued by someone other than Lucian. As twisted as our game is, there's a strange sense of safety in knowing that he has a code, however warped it may be.
"And you think a gun will protect me?" I mutter.
He smiles, a sharp, dangerous thing. "It's a start. But more than that, it will give you confidence, the ability to fight back. And that, my dear fawn, is the most valuable weapon of all."
With that, he steps back, reaching into his waistband to pull out a sleek, black handgun. He holds it out to me, handle first, his eyes never leaving mine. "Take it."
I hesitate, my hand hovering over the gun. It feels wrong somehow, to take this weapon from him, to accept his help in a game where he's the ultimate enemy. But what choice do I have? If I'm going to survive this, I need every advantage I can get.
Could I just… shoot him?
My finger twitches impulsively at the thought and he holds the gun back a few inches, like it's a candy bar and I'm a baby that just grabbed for it too early.
"Ah-ah," he scolds with a smirk.
"You're giving me a gun," I say flatly. "What happens if I just shoot you with it right now?"
His smirk widens into a grin as if he's either the cockiest motherfucker this universe has ever seen. Or the stupidest. Maybe both. "We're not actively hunting right now, and let's just say I took precautions to make that known to the Order," he says, passing the gun to me. "In the event of my untimely demise."
I hesitate, looking down at the gun and leveling it at him. "You could be lying."
"I could be," he agrees. "But is that something you really want to stake your life on? Or the life of your mother and sister? That sweet little librarian friend of yours?"
If he thinks Nat is "sweet," maybe he hasn't been watching me quite as closely as I thought.
Reluctantly, I lower the gun, not ready to call his bluff. I'm honestly not sure I'm ready to kill a man, either. No matter what he's done. Especially after what happened last night.
Is Stockholm syndrome already setting in?
Fuck.
"It would help if you had the safety off," Lucian says dryly, reaching out and touching the barrel of the gun with his fingertips, gently turning it away from his cock. "And never aim at anything you don't intend to shoot."
A blush creeps across my cheeks and I quickly undo it. I wrap my fingers around the handle, the metal cool and heavy in my palm.
It feels kind of good.
Lucian nods, a glint of approval in his eyes. "Excellent. You're a natural. Now, let me show you how to use it."
He steps behind me, his chest pressing against my back as he guides my hands into position. His touch is electric, sending sparks of awareness through my body, but I force myself to focus on his words, on the instructions he's giving me.
"Keep your feet shoulder-width apart, your dominant hand high on the grip. Use your other hand to support the weight, to steady your aim." His breath is hot against my ear, his voice a low rumble that I feel in my bones. "Breathe in, then exhale slowly as you squeeze the trigger. Don't pull, just apply steady pressure."
I do as he says, my breath leaving me in a slow, measured stream as I line up the sights with the closest target.
My finger tightens on the trigger, and the gun jumps in my hand, the sound of the shot echoing through the clearing.
I lower the gun, squinting at the target. There's a small hole in the outer ring, not quite a bullseye but not a complete miss either.
I turn to Lucian, a small, triumphant smile on my face.
He returns the smile, but there's a heat in his gaze that has nothing to do with pride in my marksmanship. "Not bad, little fawn. But let's see if you can do better."
We spend the next hour like that, Lucian guiding me through the basics of shooting. My aim improves with each shot, the targets becoming more and more perforated as I find my rhythm. It's strangely satisfying, the kick of the gun in my hand, the thrill of hitting the mark.
But as much as I'm enjoying the lesson, I can't shake the questions that nag at the back of my mind.
I lower the gun, turning to face Lucian with a furrowed brow. "Why are you helping me when you know I'm just going to use these skills against you during the hunt? Is it really just because I'm not interesting enough?"
That kind of hurts for some reason.
Why?
He cocks his head, a considering look in his eyes. "Who says you'll use them against me?"
I scoff, shaking my head. "Don't play dumb, Lucian. We both know how this ends. You'll hunt me down, and I'll do everything in my power to stop you."
He steps closer, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from my face. "And what if I want you to stop me? What if I want to see you fight, to watch you struggle and claw and do everything you can to stay out of my grasp?"
I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "Why? Why would you want that?"
His lips curve into a smile, but there's no humor in it. "Because it makes the victory all the sweeter, Aria. When I catch you—and I will catch you—I want to know that I've earned it. That I've bested you in every way possible."
There's a dark promise in his words, a heat that sears through me like a brand.
I think of the way he touched me last night, the way he played my body like a finely tuned instrument. The thought of him doing it again, of claiming me so completely, sends a shiver down my spine.
But I can't let him see that, can't let him know the effect he has on me. So I straighten my spine, squaring my shoulders as I meet his gaze head-on. "Then I guess I'd better make sure you work for it, hadn't I?"
A slow, wicked smile spreads across his face. "Oh, I'm counting on it."
With that, he steps back, nodding toward the targets. "Again. And this time, aim for the head."
I raise the gun, my hands steady despite the riot of emotions churning within me. I breathe in, then out, my finger tightening on the trigger as I line up the shot. The gun jumps in my hand, the sound of the shot echoing through the clearing.
This time, the hole appears in the center of the target's forehead, a perfect bullseye. I lower the gun, a fierce, savage satisfaction burning through me.
I may be his prey, but I'll be damned if I make it easy for him. If Lucian wants a challenge, then that's exactly what I'll give him.
And when the time comes, I'll make sure he knows exactly what he's getting himself into.
Because this fawn bites back.