The Hunt

36. Everly

36

Everly

I woke with a start, my head pounding and my body aching as if I’d been crushed under heavy stones. The air surrounding me was cold, and the scent of damp earth and rotting leaves filled my nostrils.

For a moment, I couldn’t piece together where I was or how I’d gotten there, but then I felt the rough scrape of rope digging into my wrists and realized I couldn’t move. I was tied to something. A wooden pole, rough and unyielding against my back.

My heart sank like a stone as I blinked, my vision adjusting to the dim moonlight. Then it hit me. I was in a clearing.

That clearing.

The one I’d scoured the hunting grounds for over the last two days, chasing tunnels and escape routes, only to come up empty. Now, after all this time, I’d found it—or rather, it had found me.

It was the place where it all began, really. The place where I’d first glimpsed the Wilder ritual that haunted my childhood dreams. But this time, I wasn’t hiding in the shadows, a terrified child peeking through the underbrush.

This time, I was their prisoner.

The low murmur of voices reached me, and I turned my head just enough to see the shadows shifting nearby, their forms outlined by the faint glow of the moon. The Patriarchs. They stood in a loose circle, cloaked in dark suits and self-assured authority, their voices clipped as they argued.

“I still think this is ridiculous,” one man was saying. “Can’t you see? It’s over. We should be leaving.”

“Exactly,” another man said. “I have connections down in South America. If we’re careful, we can all get away—”

“Shut up!” another man roared. I recognized the voice instantly. It was Peter Jennings. “We can deal with the fallout later. Right now, it’s absolutely imperative that we destroy Rhett Sinclair! He’s the reason everything is ruined!”

My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat as I realized why I was tied to this stake. They were using me as bait to lure Rhett.

As soon as he arrived and tried to untie me, the Patriarchs would burst out of the shadows, and then it would be eight men against one. Granted, they were older and less agile than Rhett, but they’d all been elite hunters in their prime, so his chance of survival was slim.

I tugged weakly against the ropes, but they didn’t budge, only cutting deeper into my skin. Shit.

“I won’t let you lay a hand on my son,” the first man said. “This isn’t his fault.”

“You’re right, Richard,” Peter snapped. “It’s not really his fault. It’s yours . You’re the fucking idiot who let him take your phone and leak all that information to the press, aren’t you?”

“He wouldn’t have even known there was anything to leak if you’d kept your mouth shut to your son,” Richard shot back. “That’s obviously why Rhett killed him. JJ must’ve told him the truth, and he wasn’t supposed to know any of it at his level. Neither of them were supposed to know!”

“You know what, Richard? I completely agree with you on one point you just made,” Peter said, his voice dangerously low. “Your son killed my son.”

“Peter,” another Patriarch cut in, lifting a hand. “I understand your anger, but this isn’t going to help matters. We should be making our way to a non-extradition country before it’s too late.”

Peter clocked the man right in the jaw, sending him reeling backward. “In case you’ve forgotten, I am the leader here, and I am not going to let that fucking bastard go free while my son lies dead in the fucking dirt!” he shouted. “You’re all going to help me if it’s the last fucking thing you ever do!”

As he shouted, two of the other Patriarchs rushed to the aid of the one he’d punched.

Peter furiously whirled around to look at Richard again. “Your son will pay for breaking the code,” he spat out. “And this is how we make it happen—with that stupid girl. He’ll find us out here eventually, and we’ll be ready for him. We were all hunters once.”

“Rhett didn’t break the code,” Richard said coldly. “He didn’t even know about it. He only knew what he was taught, and you know perfectly well that every Wilder learns a very different code to the eight of us.”

Peter lifted a fist again, shaking it in Richard’s face. “What part of ‘ your son killed my son’ do you not fucking understand?”

“I understand it perfectly. But I will not allow you to kill Rhett,” Richard replied. “It’s not his fault the society is ruined now. It’s your fault, and you know it.”

Peter took a step backward, face twisting into a cold sneer. “We all know you haven’t been able to pull a trigger since you mangled your hand in that car accident. And you were never particularly talented with knives. So how exactly do you plan to stop me from killing Rhett?” he asked, tilting his head. “That’s right. You can’t. You’ll never—”

Peter’s words were abruptly cut off by the sharp crack of a gunshot. He staggered backward, clutching his shoulder as blood bloomed through his tailored jacket. His face contorted in pain, and he dropped to one knee, groaning.

“What the—”

One of the Patriarchs shouted, but before he could finish, another two shots rang out, one slamming into Peter’s leg, the other into his gut. He screamed in agony as his body crumpled to the ground, his hands scrabbling at the dirt beneath him.

From the shadows, more shots fired in rapid succession. One by one, the other Patriarchs fell, each shot clean and precise, a single bullet to the head. Their bodies dropped like marionettes with their strings cut, collapsing onto the forest floor with dull thuds.

The clearing was silent for a moment, save for the echo of the last gunshot fading into the night. All but two of the Patriarchs were motionless now, lifeless forms sprawled in the moonlight. Peter was still groaning in agony, clutching at his gut, and Richard remained standing, frozen in place, his wide eyes darting around the darkened forest.

“You’re already here,” he finally said in a low voice. “I should’ve known how quick you’d be.”

A figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into the clearing. “Yeah, you really should’ve seen it coming,” Rhett said. “You’re the one who trained me.”

His face looked like it was carved from granite, his gun still raised, barrel aimed at his father’s face. His stormy gaze flicked to me, tied and helpless against the pole, before locking onto Peter, who was writhing in the dirt.

“You were saying something about someone pulling a trigger, Peter?” Rhett said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

He took another step forward, the faint glow of the moon catching the blood spattered across his hands.

I knew that blood couldn’t have come from any of the Patriarchs, given the distance he’d shot them from, and my stomach lurched violently as the most likely source of it occurred to me. Nikki.

Peter gritted his teeth, trying to push himself up, but Rhett switched his aim and fired a warning shot into the ground next to his hand. “Don’t even try,” he growled. “You’re not going anywhere. Not until you’ve paid for everything you’ve done.”

Peter weakly cried out, and Rhett smiled. “You’re right. You can’t really pay for everything you’ve done,” he said in a mocking tone, as if Peter had actually spoken. “But I think the gut shot is a good start, at least.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I watched him.

“It’ll take you a long time to die, and it’s going to hurt like hell,” he went on, smile widening. “The acid from your stomach will slowly eat through your other organs while you bleed out from the inside, and your last moments will be spent choking on your own blood. But it’s still a better death than what you deserve.”

“Please…” Peter choked out. “End it now. Shoot me in the head. Like the others.”

Rhett’s brows knitted as his lips twisted in contemplation. “No,” he finally said, crouching to remove Peter’s guns from him, just in case he found the tiniest bit of strength to fight back before he died. “You don’t deserve that.”

Richard looked on, palms raised and eyes wide. “Rhett,” he said in a low voice. “I tried to stop him. I would never have let him kill you.”

“I know. I heard.” Rhett slowly rose to his feet, regarding his father with a cold gaze. “But you’re still one of them.”

“I’m also your father.” Richard’s voice had turned shaky. “I only ever wanted what was best for you. I even had Jessica killed for you.”

I almost laughed at how weak he sounded. He might as well have been begging for forgiveness, but no amount of remorse could undo the years of destruction he’d helped orchestrate. He was just as guilty as the rest of them.

“Because of our blood ties, I’m going to give you a choice here, unlike the rest of them.” Rhett waved a gun at the dead bodies scattered around the clearing. “You can take responsibility for all of this. Spend the rest of your life rotting in prison. Or, if you prefer, you can take a clean shot to the head like the others. It’ll be fast. Painless. So… what’s it going to be?”

Richard’s gaze flickered between the bodies on the ground and the barrel of Rhett’s gun. I could see the struggle in his eyes. He didn’t want to die, but he also wasn’t the kind of man who wanted to face the consequences of his actions.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “I want out, Rhett,” he said. “Just… please tell your mother and sister I died fighting.”

I felt a strange mixture of emotions churn inside me—satisfaction and relief, and maybe even a hint of pity, because he was Rhett’s father. But mostly, there was the cold, undeniable certainty that nothing he said or did could change the fact that he was just as responsible for everything as the other Patriarchs.

His shoulders slumped as he awaited Rhett’s next move, acceptance settling over his features.

Rhett raised the gun again, steadying his aim.

I held my breath, my eyes locked on Richard as his gaze dropped to the ground. I couldn’t look away, even though I knew what was coming.

A shot rang out, sharp and final, and he crumpled to the ground.

There was no scream. No struggle. Just the dull thud of his body; a man who’d lived by the rules of this brutal world and died by them as well.

Rhett’s focus shifted to me, eyes burning with an intensity I’d never seen before. Without another word, he rushed over, and in one smooth motion, he was kneeling beside me, his hands pulling at the ropes that bound me to the pole.

My vision blurred, and I felt a tear slip down my cheek. “I was so scared.”

“I know, baby,” he murmured as his fingers worked frantically to untie the knots. “I can’t even imagine how fucking horrible it was for you, thinking you were about to die. But you’re safe now. I promise.”

I shook my head. “No, I meant I was scared for you, ” I said, voice coming out in a shaky whisper. “I… I know this sounds crazy to say so soon, but I—”

The last of the ropes suddenly loosened, and I fell into Rhett’s arms, words drying up in my throat. He pulled me against him, his breath ragged in my ear, and I clung to him, feeling the thudding of his heart, his warmth, his strength.

“I think I know what you wanted to say just then,” he whispered fiercely, his voice strained with emotion. His hands cupped my face, and I felt his lips brush against my forehead. “But I want to say it first. I love you, Everly. I fucking love you. And no one will ever hurt you again. I swear it.”

A lump instantly formed in my throat. “I love you too,” I whispered.

Without warning, he crushed his lips to mine. It was urgent, desperate, as if he needed to feel me—really feel me—after everything we’d been through.

The kiss deepened, a flood of relief and yearning pouring into each touch, and his hands slid to my back, pulling me closer, like he was afraid I might disappear if he ever let go.

I kissed him back with everything I had, my hands threading through his hair, not caring about the blood, the fear, or the chaos that had just unfolded around us. All that mattered was that we were together.

The sky above began to flicker with red and blue flashing lights, and Rhett and I finally broke apart and tilted our chins to gaze upward. “That was fast,” he muttered.

“Tessa really came through for us,” I said. “And Nikki, too. But Peter shot—”

Rhett cut me off. “Nikki’s going to be okay,” he said. “She’s on a boat with Ari, and he’ll get her to a hospital as soon as he can.”

A sudden rush of relief and elation flooded through me. “Oh, thank god!”

“That girl is like a cat with nine lives. Seriously.”

“She really is.” I smiled through the tears. Then I jerked my head around, looking into the dark woods surrounding the clearing. “What about the players?”

“They’re still out there, but they’re all safe,” Rhett said. “The hunters were recalled to the Lodge, and those who couldn’t make it back are too injured to move.”

“Good.” I exhaled deeply, shoulders sagging with relief.

More flashing lights appeared in the sky, and I could hear the distant hum of engines too, but I didn’t care about any of that. In this moment, it was just me and Rhett.

I tightened my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. “I can’t believe it’s really over,” I said. “We actually did it.”

“We did,” Rhett replied, planting a kiss on my forehead. “We really did.”

“Promise me you’ll never let me go now,” I murmured, voice almost cracking with emotion.

“I won’t,” he said, his voice raw. He pulled me even tighter against him, like he was holding on for dear life. "I’ll never leave you, Ev. Never. "

I swallowed thickly. “I’m all yours.”

“That’s right. You’re all mine.” Rhett pressed his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my lips. “ Always .”