Chapter 5
ELLIOT
My fingers tremble as I adjust the black leather mask over my face. The ornate design covers the upper half of my features, leaving only my mouth and jaw exposed. Around me, fourteen other hunters perform the same ritual, their excitement palpable in the air-conditioned control room.
Thirty minutes ago, they released the women into Purgatory’s halls. Six prey, fifteen predators. The math doesn’t favor the hunters. But that’s the point of the Hunt—not everyone wins.
“Nervous, Chambers?” Julian’s voice slides over me like silk as he appears at my side, adjusting his own full-face silver skull mask. His fingertips brush against my shoulder, a touch that lingers too long to be accidental.
“Just focused,” I mutter, stepping away. My back hits the wall. Trapped.
Julian follows, closing the distance between us. “You don’t look focused. You look... scared.” His hand reaches up to adjust my mask, fingers grazing my cheek.
My pulse hammers in my throat. Across the room, the Blackwood brothers check their watches impatiently. The Dexter twins whisper in a corner. No one’s paying attention to us, yet I feel exposed.
“Five minutes, gentlemen.” Theo’s voice cuts through the tension. He stands by the main doors, ready to release us into the hunting grounds.
Julian leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Remember what I told you? About what happens to the hunters who don’t catch their prey?”
His hand slides down my arm, fingers wrapping around my wrist. He squeezes once, finger pressing against my pulse point.
“I’m not interested,” I say, but my racing heartbeat betrays me.
“Your heart disagrees.” Julian smiles, eyes glittering behind his mask. His thumb traces small circles on the inside of my wrist. “I can feel your pulse racing. Is that for the Hunt, or for me?”
I try to pull away, but he holds firm.
“Two minutes,” Theo announces.
Julian finally releases me, but not before his fingers trail across my palm in a gesture that feels obscenely intimate. “Good luck out there, Elliot. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
My mouth goes dry. I adjust my mask again, trying to steady my breathing as I prepare to run—though whether I’m running toward the women or away from Julian, I’m no longer certain.
The buzzer sounds, and the doors swing open.
I dart into the maze, determined to prove myself as a hunter.
The dark corridors of Purgatory stretch before me like a living organism, pulsing with hidden alcoves and shadowy corners.
Blue and purple lights cast an eerie glow, barely illuminating the path ahead.
I take a right turn, then a left, trying to recall the layout from previous events.
Somewhere in this labyrinth, six women are hiding or running.
My target—anyone I can catch at this point—is all that matters.
I need this win. Not just for status among the other hunters, but to prove to myself that Julian’s words haven’t gotten under my skin.
A faint giggle echoes down the corridor to my left. I freeze, listening intently before moving in that direction. My footsteps are deliberate, measured. I’m a predator now. This is what I’m here for.
I round another corner and pause at a junction, weighing my options. That’s when I feel it—a presence behind me, the subtle shift in air pressure that signals I’m not alone.
“Having trouble deciding where to go?” Julian’s voice slithers over my shoulder.
I whip around to find him leaning against the wall, silver skull mask gleaming in the low light. Even with his face hidden, I can sense his amusement.
“Why are you following me?” I demand, backing away. “Don’t you have a woman to hunt?”
He pushes off the wall, closing the distance between us. “Perhaps I’ve found more interesting prey.”
“Fuck off, Julian,” I hiss, glancing nervously down the corridors. “I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing. Hunters don’t hunt other hunters.”
Julian laughs, the sound echoing off the walls. “The maze is a free-for-all, Elliot. I can go wherever I want.” He tilts his head, studying me. “And right now, I want to be right here.”
My heart hammers against my ribs, but I refuse to show weakness. The Hunt has barely begun, and already my plans are unraveling.
Julian takes a step closer, forcing me to press my back against the wall. “You know,” he says, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “we could work together.”
“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 says share makes 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.
“That’s it,” Xavier murmurs, his voice muffled. “Let me hear you.”
Julian and I move closer, positioning ourselves where she can clearly see us. I expect to participate next, but instead find myself frozen, watching Xavier’s assault on her senses with a mixture of fascination and growing arousal.
Then something completely unexpected happens.
Julian reaches over and slides his hand down the front of my pants. His fingers wrap around my already hard cock, and he starts stroking. The sudden contact sends electricity through my body.
“Stop,” I hiss, mortified yet unable to prevent my hips from thrusting into his grip. “I don’t want this.”
“Why not?” Julian’s voice carries dark amusement. “Look how hard you are from watching her.”
I should pull away immediately. Should be focused on the woman before me, but Julian’s touch pushes against the walls I’ve spent years building.
I grab his wrist, trying to pull him away, but he doesn’t relent. If anything, he pumps faster, his thumb circling the head of my cock.
“Fuck,” I groan, feeling my resistance crumbling with each stroke. My head falls back involuntarily.
The raw dominance Julian exerts over me, while Xavier continues his relentless attention to the woman, creates a perfect storm of sensation. I’ve never felt so out of control, so exposed—even with my mask firmly in place.
Xavier seems completely unbothered by our display, his focus entirely on drawing every possible response from her body. I watch, captivated by both scenes unfolding simultaneously, as my own pleasure builds under Julian’s expert touch.
In this moment, I’m no longer the hunter I pretended to be. I’ve become something else entirely—prey to desires I’ve buried for far too long.