20. Twenty
20
TWENTY
MILA
M y body was on the verge of collapse as Archer carried me through the dense woods, my bones aching with exhaustion. A loud engine growled in the distance, and I could see a four-wheeler waiting for us up ahead. Kai stood by it, his smirk evident, even from a distance. As we approached, I noticed another man standing nearby, his dark hair slicked to the side with striking green eyes that mirrored Archer's. He sat atop a sleek dirt bike, radiating confidence and control.
"Did you get attacked by a bear? We heard loud animal sounds, kind of like a weird grunting," Kai teased Archer, winking at me.
"You didn't have to wait for us," Archer said as he set me down on the four-wheeler and got atop it, straddling the seat and pulling me to him. "Wrap your legs around me, baby," he instructed.
I did as I was told, using his body to keep me upright.
"We wanted to," Kai responded. "Plus, Theo wanted to see the celestial being that tamed the devil."
Archer's chest rumbled against my body as he laughed. "Theo, this is Mila. Mila, this is Theo," he introduced us. I lifted my head to meet his gaze .
Theo's eyes held a mischievous glint as he extended his hand toward me.
"Nice to meet you, Mila," Theo said with a charming smile. His voice had a subtle edge to it, like the melody of a hauntingly beautiful song. "Archer has told me so much about you."
I couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity in Theo's presence, as if I had known him for far longer than mere moments. It was as if he carried a piece of Archer within him, an echo of the man who held me tightly against his chest. Archer tensed, wrapping an arm around me protectively. My body naturally leaned into him out of exhaustion, or perhaps the desire to be closer to him, I didn't know. But I cherished the possessive hold Archer had on me, even in front of his brothers, with his cum dripping down my thighs.
"Hold on tight," he said, starting the four-wheeler and revving the engine as it roared to life. I gripped him tightly, feeling his muscles flex as he maneuvered through the thicket of trees. The wind whipped through my hair as we raced toward the manor.
As we descended from the highest point of the forest, I caught a glimpse of their mansion in the distance. I found myself impressed with towering columns and a sprawling lawn from this vantage point. As we emerged from the trees, I took in the horizon, and a sense of awe washed over me. The sky was painted with vibrant hues of pink and orange, and the sun was rising, casting a warm golden glow across the landscape. It was breathtaking. After everything that had happened last night, it felt like I was seeing the world and its beauty for the first time.
The colors were more vibrant.
The smells were stronger.
And Archer's touch made me feel more alive than ever before. Somehow, I felt more whole than I ever had in my life.
The four-wheeler stopped near the entrance, and Theo gracefully dismounted his dirt bike, throwing me a boyish grin while Kai gave me a half salute before they walked inside.
Archer guided me off the four-wheeler, carrying me inside.
"I have legs, you know," I told him .
"I know."
"I can walk."
"Not right now, you can't," he replied, walking up the stairs like he would take me to his bedroom, then making a left.
The last time I was here, I didn't stick around to take in the view, but this time I was awake . Part of me felt overwhelmed by the opulence before me. The marble floors gleamed under the crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling, casting rainbows across the room. Ornate paintings adorned every wall, and plush velvet furniture filled the living area.
"It's beautiful," I whispered in awe.
He chuckled at my reaction.
Archer's family was well-known for their wealth and power, and I’d heard rumors of their lavish parties and extravagant lifestyle. But I had also heard darkness lingered beneath the surface of their facade and that the price of being a part of their world was high. Beneath the veneer of grandeur, there were secrets and scandals, and The Brotherhood's front was one that was carefully crafted, hiding their truths behind a veil of luxury and privilege.
"Where are we going?"
"To see Gage."
"I'm fine, Archer," I said, yawning. "I really just want to take a shower and go to sleep."
"You can after he throws a couple stitches in that laceration on your leg."
"But it's almost stopped bleeding."
Archer ignored my protests as he carried me down a dimly lit hallway adorned with ornate paintings and antique furniture. The air was heavy with the scent of old wood and faded memories. We reached a wooden door at the end of the corridor, and he gently pushed it open. The room beyond was a stark contrast to the magnificence of the mansion. It was a small, well-equipped medical room with sterile, white walls and a clean, stainless steel table in the center. It almost felt out of place when compared to the aesthetic of the rest of the manor .
The Brotherhood's resident doctor, Gage, stood at the table, meticulously arranging various surgical instruments. He turned to face us as we entered, his inquisitive blue eyes assessing my condition with a cool detachment.
"Ah, there you are," Gage glanced up from his work, his expression softening when he saw me. "Bring her over here, Archer."
Archer moved toward the table and gently placed me down on it. Gage approached. "Ah, the damsel in distress," he said with a smirk.
"She was no damsel in distress," Archer told him. The admiration in his gaze made my heart flutter, and I felt a surge of warmth spread through me.
Gage chuckled, his hands moving deftly as he examined the two wounds on my leg. "No, I can see that," he agreed, his tone laced with amusement. "Archer here just likes to play the knight in shining armor." He smiled teasingly at Archer, who rolled his eyes in response.
He examined the laceration on my leg with a practiced eye, humming thoughtfully. "Do I even want to know what you did to get this?"
"Why don't you ask Archer and the other two knuckleheads who think it's a good idea to drug college girls, tie them up, then release them to be hunted like it's the fucking hunger games," I teased.
"Ah, that's right," Gage chuckled, catching a glance at Archer, who feigned false shock. "The Hunt was last night. Well, the odds were in your favor since you're the first Chosen that Archer has brought home."
My eyes narrowed as I stared up at Archer, my forehead creasing in confusion. "I thought The Hunt had been going on for years."
"It has. Decades, even," Archer confirmed.
"Then how was I the first Chosen you've brought home?"
"I've always participated, but none of my picks have survived The Hunt. Most don't, actually. Not until you."
"Really? But everyone talks about The Hunt and being picked for all the parties and the mind-blowing sex with you three stooges. "
Archer's lips curved into a dark smirk. “Well, they aren't lying. We do throw parties, and there is a lot of sex."
"That you participate in?" I pressed, feeling a twinge of jealousy. My stomach churned at the thought of Archer fucking a bunch of college girls.
"I do." Archer's expression turned quizzical as he watched me carefully, waiting for my reaction.
"Hm," I frowned, turning my attention back to Gage. He said nothing else, but I knew neither of us were done with the conversation.
Meanwhile, Gage spoke up, breaking the tense silence."It doesn't look like anything important was hit," Gage mused aloud, changing the subject. "If you look like this after The Hunt, I'd hate to see the other guy."
"Girl, actually," I blurted out, seeing Emily's caved-in face in my mind. I knew I should feel remorse for what I had done. But the truth was, I didn’t—not right then, at least. Instead, I felt satisfied.
Whole.
"Nice," Gage responded, picking up a pair of tweezers and pulling a piece of wood out of my thigh.
I watched as Gage expertly cleaned my wounds before delicately stitching them back together. The room was filled with the soft sound of his movements, the delicate click of the needle piercing my skin. Archer stood beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder, and I winced as my adrenaline waned, and the pain of my injuries made me nauseous.
"These should heal nicely. You're lucky. An inch deeper, and you would have bled out before you got back here," Gage paused, assessing his work and lifting an eyebrow. "Stay away from knives and crazy chicks for a little while, Mila."
"I can't promise anything," I teased.
"It will be sore while it heals, so I'll give you Vicodin. Take one every four to six hours. Change the bandages once daily, and if you have any concerns, you know where to find me."
Gage handed me an orange bottle of pills and a bag of wound care supplies. "Weight-bearing as tolerated, and keep the extracurricular activities to a minimum so you don't tear your stitches."
"You got it, Doc." I gave him a small smile, feeling exhausted and in significant pain. "Thank you for these," I gestured toward the pills and slid off the table, gingerly putting weight on my leg. Archer moved to pick me back up, but I swatted his hands away in annoyance. "I've got it."
My defiant act didn't go unnoticed. I pushed past him, intent on making it to his room independently. He followed me wordlessly, not far behind, only fueling my annoyance further. My injured leg throbbed with each step, but I was dead set on making it without his help. He would point me in the right direction, but just watched me hobble along. I limped for what seemed like an eternity before I collapsed against the wall, sweat dripping down my face as I fought through the pain.
He stood there, waiting for me to surrender and ask for help, but he knew I would never give him that satisfaction. Suddenly, his arms were around me, lifting me effortlessly as if I weighed nothing. I seethed in indignation, but he held me tightly and silently carried me the rest of the way to his room.
Setting me down in the bathroom, he turned the shower on and lifted my bloodied and torn dress over my head, tossing it to the floor. Helping me step into the shower, I closed my eyes, letting the warm water cascade down my body and wash away the evidence of The Hunt. Archer joined me, wrapping his arms around me protectively and cleaning the blood and dirt off my skin.
"You've never been more beautiful than you were tonight," he whispered in my ear, his voice low and filled with wonder.
"What would have happened if she killed me?" I retorted.
"She didn't," he replied calmly.
"But she almost did," I pressed. "And you just stood there, watching."
He spun me around to face him, anger in his voice. "I did watch because that's what The Brotherhood required of me. We have a code to follow. If I had interfered, you would not be considered worthy enough for me."
"Worthy? Who are you or any of those misogynist pricks to decide who is worthy?" I seethed, my voice shaking with emotion. "Fuck you."
Before I could even process his next move, his body roughly pinned me in place against the walls of the shower, his jaw clenched tightly as he growled, “I’ve killed for you.”
"And now we're even ," I told him, emphasizing every word.
He stared at me, his eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't quite place. But before he could respond, I pushed him away from me, stepping out of the shower and wrapping myself in a towel.
"Don't fucking walk away from me, Mila," he snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"Or what? I'll end up buried on Brotherhood property?" I challenged, my voice dripping with defiance. A smirk tugged at my lips as I taunted him further, "I'm just another one of your whores. Somewhere warm to put your cock when you're bored until you move on to the next eager slut that wants a taste of Archer King's cum."
His jaw tightened even more, and he took a deep breath as his eyes darkened. Slowly, he advanced toward me, each step deliberate and intimidating. I stood my ground, but my breath hitched when he grabbed me by the throat and forced me to meet his gaze. "You're wrong, Mila. You're not just another whore to me. You're the one I've been waiting for, the one I would set the world on fire for. Before you, I was a dead man walking. Mindlessly fucking, drinking, killing for no purpose. To fill the dark pit that hides inside of me. The moment I saw you, I knew you were my salvation. You are my redemption." He drew me closer until our lips touched. "When I'm inside of you, I know you're the closest I will ever get to touching Heaven."
My voice trembled as I whispered, "You're a monster." His fingers traced a burning path along my jawline, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
He towered over me, pushing me back until I was sitting on the edge of the bed, his presence suffocating and overwhelming. "The worst kind," he growled, his words laced with dark promises. "I will obliterate your walls, demolish your good girl facade, and devour your soul if you let me."
He paused, his eyes boring into mine as I tried to catch my breath. The room seemed to spin, and my heart raced as I realized the depths to which I was willing to go for him. I had decided a long time ago that he was what I wanted. He was my present and my future. My entire being was consumed by the desire to please him and to have him as my everything. And in that moment of delirium, I reveled in the thought of hating him for pushing me to the brink. Because I craved it, I wanted it all—The Hunt, the blood, the death. Whatever it took to be with him.
"Take me then. My life, my love, my soul. It's yours."
He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine, his breath warm and sweet. "Be careful with your soul, little rabbit. The Devil won't give it back." His lips moved slowly across my forehead, lingering there as if to etch his promise into my skin.
"Take everything from me. It's yours."
"You belong to me now, Mila," he whispered hoarsely. "No one will ever touch you but me. You are mine. Do you understand me? I will kill you if you ever try to leave."
As the weight of his words hung in the air, Archer's lips descended upon mine, devouring me in a kiss that left me breathless. My body responded to his touch as I threw the towel off of me and pulled him closer. He moved over me and thrust into me with raw, primal force. His eyes burned with the familiar hunger that could not be controlled. I moaned as he moved inside me, wishing I could pull him deeper. Deeper into my skin, my bones, my blood. Our bodies collided with every violent thrust, our skin slick with water, and I dug my nails into his back, tearing at his flesh and leaving long crimson welts. He thrust into me again, harder and faster, his eyes locked on mine, his face a mask of raw desire.
His hand tangled in my wet hair, yanking my head back, baring my neck to him. His teeth nipped into my flesh, and I pushed my neck closer to him, begging him to keep going. He bit down harder, drawing blood. I cried out, writhing beneath him. He possessed me, claiming me as his own, and I loved every moment. I was vaguely aware of my blood running down my chest, but I didn't care. I wanted him to mark me for all the world to see.
"I've waited my whole life for you," he murmured against my skin. "And now, I'll never let you go."
I moaned as he continued to drive into me, desperate for more, for him to take me to the edge and push me over. He groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his face contorted in pleasure and pain.
"I'm so close, Mila," he rasped, his voice strained.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him deeper, faster. "Then come," I demanded. "Take what's yours."
His eyes flared with admiration and raw desire, and he powered into me one last time, burying himself deep inside. He shuddered as he released himself. His weight pressed down on me, and the warmth of his seed filled me. Gently, he pulled away from me, his eyes soft and filled with love. He wiped the blood from my chest and kissed the tender marks he’d left.
Grabbing my pain pills, he pulled one out. "Open your mouth," he instructed me.
I opened my mouth and let him put one on my tongue. I accepted the glass of water from him and swallowed. "Thank you," I muttered, grateful for any relief from the agony consuming my leg.
He slid back into bed with me, pulling me to his chest and wrapping his comforter around me. I laid my head on his bare chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, letting that and the pain pill pull me into a deep sleep.