Prologue #2
I might have only just started at Silvercrest, but I’ve already heard plenty of rumors about how the four of them have no problems getting their hands dirty and taking care of people who piss them off or fuck with them.
I have no idea if any of it is true and they really are as dangerous as everyone says, or if the rumors are all part of a carefully crafted narrative they’ve spent years cultivating.
Either way, the four of them are an anomaly because pledges are supposed to be invisible until our official initiation ceremony at the end of our freshman year.
And the royalty are anything but invisible.
Before I can look away, Anthony turns away from where he’s talking to one of the twins and slides his gaze to mine.
My first instinct is to pretend I wasn’t creeping on him and his friends, but there’s something about Anthony’s stare that I just can’t look away from.
Anthony has the most incredible eyes I’ve ever seen on anyone, and this isn’t the first time I’ve gotten distracted by them. They’re the most incredible shade of blue that’s so bright it doesn’t look natural. But right now, it isn’t the color that has me mesmerized; it’s the look in them.
It’s intense and curious, with a hint of amusement, but it’s the zings of electricity buzzing under my skin that keeps me trapped in a sort of mind meld with him.
Something in his gaze shifts the longer we stare at each other, and the amusement melts away and is replaced by something dark and eager.
Something that looks a lot like anticipation mixed with heat.
I quickly tear my gaze away.
Nope. Now isn’t the time to be writing mental fanfiction about any of my frat brothers, especially not devastatingly gorgeous ones like Anthony.
Damon shoots me a curious look, but I’m saved from having to explain my weirdness when three guys wearing the same black robes that Matt and Lachlan had on in the lobby slowly walk across the grass, their heads bent and their hands clasped in front of them.
I know I should pay attention as one of the robed guys starts rattling off a spiel about the origins of the Hunt and the tradition behind it, but I can’t get my brain to focus on anything while I have all this pressure on me.
To my family, the Hunt isn’t just an annual challenge with an awesome prize and coveted bragging rights. It’s tradition. My great grandfather, grandfather and father all won while they attended Silvercrest, and because that wasn’t enough, both of my older brothers also won while they were here.
Then there’s me, the brother no one expects anything from. The one who ends up being the butt of every joke and lives in the perpetual shadow of not just one golden child sibling, but two of them.
Damon elbows me gently in the side, knocking me free from my spiraling thoughts, and gives me a concerned look as he slips a simple black fabric mask over his head.
Everyone who signs up for the Hunt is given the same mask, and I quickly look around and see the rest of the guys are also putting their masks on, and I pull mine out of my hoodie pocket so I can slip it on.
The material feels strange against my skin, and I don’t like how restrictive it is, especially where it sits over my mouth and nose. It’s not making it harder to breathe or anything, but I don’t like being aware of my breath or feeling the heat from it as it gets trapped in the fabric.
Once my mask is in place, I glance around at the rest of the guys and have to roll my lips inward and bite them so I don’t involuntarily laugh.
The masks they gave us are super-thin balaclavas with one long oval-shaped cutout so we can see, and they cover every other inch of our heads and faces, including our hair and necks.
Right now, with all of us standing in the moonlight and dressed all in black with the ridiculous masks on, we look like we’re about to rob a bank or take part in some cult ritual.
Before my brain can go on a spiral that will most definitely end with me giggling like a moron, one of the robed guys lifts an air horn and holds it over his head dramatically.
“Let the Hunt begin!” he shouts like an announcer at a pro wrestling match.
The blare of the horn is as loud as a thunderclap, and everyone immediately takes off and sprints into the woods.
Another sense of unease falls over me as I break through the tree line, and I immediately slow down as I move deeper into the woods. This way I can pay attention to where I’m stepping while also keeping an eye out for anyone who might be close by.
The extra bright moon and clear skies help illuminate the area around me, but the orange tinge to both the moon and the light it’s emitting, as well as how big and full it is as it hangs in the sky above me, is as unsettling as it is comforting.
I’m not afraid of the dark, and I enjoy going for walks and exploring places at night, but knowing that a few dozen of my frat brothers are out here with me, all vying for a chance to take me out, is unnerving.
There’s a crack of what sounds like a twig breaking to my left, and I instinctively dart behind a large tree.
Damon told me that last year, instead of wandering around and trying to hunt down the others, he found a hiding spot and spent the entire Hunt hunkered down and waiting for the clock to run out.
The entire point of the challenge is to collect as many tokens as you can without getting caught, but just staying in the game until the end is considered a win in itself.
No one needs to know how I stayed in the game; they just need to know that I did. And maybe my family will stop making jokes about how much of a disappointment I am if I can stay alive until they call last man standing.
There’s a rustle of leaves to my right, and another loud snap a bit further away as I press my back against the tree trunk and try to breathe more quietly.
It takes about thirty seconds for the sounds to fade, and I relax when I’m once again left in silence.
Okay, now I just need to find a good place to hide.
Being as quiet as possible, I carefully move deeper into the woods.
I have no idea how much time passes as I search for somewhere to hide, but I finally find a small pile of rocks next to a tightly packed cluster of three large trees that creates a sort of blind.
It’s not perfect, and I’m still exposed on one side, but it’s way better than wandering around hoping I don’t run into anyone.
I tuck myself into the space where the trees and rocks overlap and blow out a soft sigh of relief as I pull out my phone. Using my hand to cover the screen, I press the home button to check the time.
Ten minutes down, one hour and fifty minutes to go.
Tucking my phone back in my pocket, I press myself deeper into the blind and try to keep focused on my surroundings as I listen for any signs that someone is nearby.
The silence around me is loud as my thoughts start spinning, but I do my best to ignore them. I’m used to my head being loud and busy and never shutting up. Why would tonight be any different?
I’m just about to check my phone yet again to see how much time has passed when I hear voices off to my right. The hushed tones make it hard to hear what they’re saying, but it’s obvious that someone just got caught and is pissed off about it.
They argue for another minute or so, then there’s the sound of heavy footfalls as it seems like one of them stalks off in a huff.
Straining in the dark, I listen closely to see if anyone is still around, but I can’t hear anything.
Did whoever that was leave, and I just didn’t hear them over the other guy’s hissy fit? Or maybe he’s still here and he’s listening for me the same way I’m listening for him?
Another few minutes of silence pass, and my curiosity gets the better of me. For no reason other than I’m nosy and my impulsive thoughts are extra loud tonight, I peek out from the relative safety of my hiding spot.
A tall figure is walking toward me, and my heart skips a beat as my entire body goes cold, like someone dumped a bucket of ice water on me.
The figure is moving with sure, confident steps that are somehow completely silent, and an undercurrent of panic mixes with my fear as he moves through the woods like a ghost.
Like everyone participating in the Hunt, he’s wearing head to toe black. He also has a dark hood pulled up over his head, making him look like something out of a horror movie.
Shit. Did he see me? I’m also dressed in all black and have my hood up, but it feels like whoever that is has locked onto my very soul as he strides toward me with all the confidence of an apex predator.
Panic wraps around me as I press myself into the blind again. What the fuck do I do? Do I take a chance that he didn’t see me and stay hidden until he passes? Or should I make a run for it and hope for the best?
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” a low voice says in a raspy, singsongy tone that sends a tremor of terror up my spine.
The thought of being trapped in a blind while whoever is out there catches and corners me is way more terrifying than it should be, and without thinking about what I’m doing, I dart out from my hiding place and sprint deeper into the woods.
I sound, and probably look, like a crazy person as I tear through the woods with all the grace of a drunken elephant, and it takes my brain a moment to remember that stealth is good right now, and whoever I’m running from isn’t the only person trying to find me.
It takes way more willpower than it should, but I manage to slow to a walk, my footfalls quieting as I do my best to avoid the mess of dried leaves and brittle sticks littering the ground.
The light around me dims, and I look up as a massive cloud slides in front of the moon and blocks out most of the light.
A strange sense of awareness settles over me, and I slowly turn in a circle, my gaze sweeping the area around me.
Huh?
Where did he go?
“Gotcha.”