Chapter 11
T he forest was alive with shadows, each one a potential threat. I stumbled forward, my bare feet stinging from countless cuts and scrapes as I navigated the hidden undergrowth. The chill of the night air bit into my exposed skin, causing me to shiver uncontrollably.
How long had I been running? Minutes? Hours? Time had lost all meaning in this nightmarish game of cat and mouse. I pressed my back against the rough bark of an ancient oak, desperately trying to catch my breath. My lungs burned with each ragged inhale, and my heart thundered so loudly in my chest that I was certain it would give away my position. Sweat mingled with tears on my face, leaving salty tracks down my cheeks.
The woods around me seemed to pulse with malevolent energy. Every snapping twig, every rustle of leaves sent a fresh jolt of panic through my system. Twice now, I'd heard the ominous blare of air horns cutting through the night. Two girls claimed. Two lives forever altered. And I was still out here, an animal of prey that was desperately trying to outlast the hunt.
I just needed to last long enough for the third girl to get caught and then I would be home free, and after tonight, I would be going through that bloody contract with a fine tooth comb. I didn't want to be blindsided like this again. I closed my eyes, trying to centre myself, to find some scrap of calm in the chaos. But all I could see behind my eyelids were hooded figures moving with predatory grace through the trees. How many times had I caught glimpses of them? Shadowy forms darting just at the edge of my vision, there and gone before I could be certain they weren't figments of my terror-addled imagination. A twig snapped nearby, and my eyes flew open. I held my breath, straining to hear past the pounding of blood in my ears. Nothing. Just the usual series of night sounds, crickets chirping, leaves rustling in the breeze. But I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of unseen eyes boring into me from the darkness.
I pushed off from the tree, wincing as my battered feet made contact with the forest floor. I had to keep moving. Standing still made me feel like a target, like I was just waiting to be plucked up by some unseen force. I moved as quietly as I could manage, each step carefully placed to avoid making noise. The woods were practically black, the density of the leaves not letting in any light from the moon. It made navigation even more dangerous, obscuring roots and rocks that seemed determined to trip me up. I stumbled more than once, biting back curses as I righted myself. But I tried to avoid the open patches of clearings, using the night to keep myself hidden from sight. As I picked my way through a particularly dense patch of underbrush, a flash of movement caught my eye. I froze, hardly daring to breathe as I peered through the gloom. There, a figure standing in a small clearing up ahead. My heart leapt into my throat, certain I'd been spotted. But as my eyes adjusted, I realised it wasn't one of the hooded hunters. It was Julia.
She stood in the centre of the clearing, bathed in moonlight that seemed to seek her out. Her posture was relaxed, almost bored, as she idly smoothed non-existent wrinkles from the scrap of fabric that barely passed for clothing. She tossed her hair, preening like she was on a runway instead of in the middle of this demented hunt.
Disgust coiled in my gut as I watched her. This wasn't survival for Julia, it was an audition. She wanted to be caught, to be claimed. She was putting herself on display like some twisted beauty pageant contestant, waiting for her judges to arrive and crown her the winner.
I slipped away before she could notice me, bile rising in my throat. Had Julia known what tonight would bring? Had others? The thought that some of the girls might have been prepared for this, might have even looked forward to it, made me feel sick. What kind of world was this, where being hunted and claimed was seen as a prize to be won? What was it the headmaster had said? The Consort will serve the Regents for the year. What did that mean? Did that mean what I thought it did? That would be all kinds of fucked up, but then here I was in the middle of the night being chased in the woods in my nightclothes. At this point, I could safely say we were way beyond fucked up.
I pushed the thoughts away, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. I couldn't afford to be distracted by anger or confusion. I just had to survive until that third air horn sounded. Just a little longer, and I could escape this nightmare. The forest seemed to stretch on endlessly, each tree indistinguishable from the last. I was hopelessly lost, with no idea how close I was to the boundaries Williams had mentioned, and likely going around in bloody circles. The thought of accidentally crossing that invisible line, of facing "disqualification" and the loss of my scholarship, sent a fresh wave of panic through me. I skirted the edge of another small clearing, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. The brush was thicker here, making it even harder to get through. It muffled sound, making the forest feel unnaturally quiet. I strained my ears, listening for any sign of pursuit.
A rustling sound behind me made my blood run cold. I whirled around, heart in my throat, only to find my escape route blocked by a hooded figure. Terror seized me, rooting me to the spot as the figure took a menacing step forward. Fight or flight instinct finally kicked in, and I spun to run, only to crash into a second cloaked form. My breath caught in my chest as I realised I was trapped. There was a gap beside me, and I took the opportunity to dive through it into a small clearing. Before I could even think to scream, a third figure emerged from the other side of the clearing, almost like they had been waiting. I looked behind me to confirm my suspicions and the two figures had followed me through, completing the triangle that had me cornered.
Realisation dawned, sharp and painful. They'd herded me here. This whole time, I'd thought I was evading them, but they'd been coordinating, driving me exactly where they wanted me. I was never really running from them, I was running to them.
"Please," I gasped out, hating how weak and scared my voice sounded. "Please, just let me go. Choose someone else. There are other girls who want this, who–" A low chuckle cut me off, the sound achingly familiar. My stomach dropped as one of the figures stepped forward.
"Oh, Princess," My eyes widened as I recognised the voice under the hood straight away. Logan Bale's voice tormented me with smug amusement. "We were never going to choose anyone else. You've always been the endgame." What the fuck? Me? Why me? Six months ago, this guy probably didn't even know who I was, but now... my thoughts trailed off as the memories of the last week, of all the times that I had the feeling of being watched overwhelmed me. Even the party that felt like so long ago but was only really a handful of hours ago.
I stumbled back a step, my bare feet slipping on the damp forest floor, only to collide with one of the other hooded figures. Strong hands gripped my upper arms, fingers digging into my flesh with an almost bruising intensity. The touch sent an involuntary shiver through me. Logan advanced with predatory grace, each step deliberate and measured. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting eerie shadows across his hooded form. My heart hammered against my ribs and seemed to echo in the oppressive silence of the clearing.
"Did you really think you could outrun us?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous purr. He reached out, and I tensed as his fingers brushed a wayward strand of hair from my face. The gentleness of the gesture was a stark contrast to the menace radiating from him. I flinched away, my skin tingling where he'd touched me. Logan's dark chuckle sent another tremor through me.
"We've been watching you this whole time, letting you tire yourself out." His words dripped with satisfaction, and I could almost feel his smirk behind the hood. "It's so much more satisfying when they fight, don't you think, brothers?" The other two figures, Ryder and Cole I assumed, made sounds of agreement. Their presence loomed large, hemming me in. The air felt thick, charged with an electric tension that made it hard to breathe. I was acutely aware of my vulnerability, my thin clothes offering little protection, my body trembling from exertion and cold.
Anger flared alongside the fear, giving me a burst of defiance. I lifted my chin, meeting Logan's hidden gaze.
"It doesn't matter what you want. I won't do it," I spat, my voice stronger than I felt. "Whatever sick game this is, I won't play along. You can't force me to–"
"Force you?" Logan's voice rose in mock surprise, cutting me off. He leaned in closer, and I could feel the heat of his breath even through the hood. "Oh no, Princess. We're not going to force you to do anything. You're going to choose this all on your own." His proximity was overwhelming, the scent of him, a mix of leather and something distinctly masculine, filling my senses. My body betrayed me, responding to his closeness even as my mind recoiled.
"Like fuck I will," I snarled, struggling against the hands that held me. But even as I said it, I knew I was struggling to maintain the conviction of my words.
The hooded figure holding me pushed me slightly forward, his grip firm yet almost gentle, as if savouring the moment. The three of them circled me with predatory grace, their movements synchronised and deliberate. I could feel the heat radiating from their bodies, closing in around me like a trap. Logan positioned himself right behind me, so close I could feel the warmth of his chest against my back. My skin prickled with awareness, a mix of fear and something else I didn't want to name. He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he whispered. His hot breath sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.
"You have two choices here, Princess." His voice was low, husky, dripping with dark promise. I felt my body respond traitorously, goosebumps rising on my arms. "Walk away now, break the contract..." He paused, letting the words sink in, his proximity overwhelming my senses. "Explain to your poor grandma and grandad why they'll lose everything they own." Logan's hand ghosted along my arm, barely touching yet leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The silence stretched between us, laden with tension and unspoken desires. I could barely breathe, my chest rising and falling rapidly. The air felt thick, charged with an electric current that made every nerve ending in my body come alive.
"Or..." he continued; his lips now so close they grazed my earlobe. I bit back a gasp, hating how my body betrayed me, how it leaned into his touch despite my mind's protests. "...you can be a good girl and get down on your fucking knees.”