The Hunt

27. Everly

27

Everly

My gaze lingered on Jake’s lifeless body, his face now slack and pale.

I dragged my eyes away from him, my breathing shallow, and saw Rhett watching me. His dark eyes bore into mine, intense and unreadable—the same look he’d given me many times before. It used to make me shrink, convinced it was hatred or disgust. But now, I understood what it really was: want . A raw, unspoken hunger.

I thought he might kiss me, but he didn’t move closer, didn’t touch me. Instead, his deep voice broke the silence, soft and steady. “How are you feeling?”

My lips parted, but the words didn’t come right away.

I looked back at Jake’s body. Weirdly, I didn’t feel the way I thought I would after taking his life. No pang of guilt, no gnawing regret. Just... relief. He could never hurt me again. Never hurt anyone again.

“I thought I’d feel bad,” I finally said. “But I don’t. Not even a little bit.”

Rhett took a step closer. “Like I said earlier, some people don’t deserve mercy,” he said in a low voice. “He deserved exactly what he got.”

My gaze lifted to his eyes again, and for the first time, I didn’t flinch under the weight of his stare. The darkness there didn’t frighten me anymore. It mirrored my own.

“I’m sorry for everything I did to you,” he went on, voice gruff. “I should've said that earlier.”

“Sometimes you say things through actions instead of words,” I replied, lips curving in a ghost of a smile. “You've done plenty of that.”

Rhett glanced over at Jake’s body again, and his jaw tightened. “I guess that’s true.”

“On that note…” I bit my bottom lip, hesitating for a moment. “I have to ask you something.”

He looked back at me, a question in his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Before you knew the truth about how I ended up here… would you have killed me? Or let someone else kill me?”

“Never.” He swallowed, and a muscle in his jaw clenched. He almost looked angry at me for asking. For doubting him. “ Never. ”

“But why?” I shook my head. “You always hated me. And you thought I was a real player here, so I should’ve been fair game to you, right?”

Rhett took another step toward me, close enough now that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. When his fingers brushed mine, I didn’t pull away. His touch was steady, grounding me.

“I never hated you,” he said in a low voice.

“You did.”

“No. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “The first time I met you, I just knew there was something about you. I didn’t know what it was, exactly, but still… I knew. I was obsessed, even when I didn’t want to be,” he said, his voice rough but certain. “When I saw your profile on the Hunt list, I knew you didn’t belong. I knew it had to be a mistake. So I came up with a plan to save you.”

My breath hitched, eyes searching his face. “Really?”

“Yeah. I planned to track you as long as you were here. Keep you safe until you were the last one standing.”

“You were going to make sure I won,” I murmured.

“Yes. It was the only way I could get you out of here alive,” he said. “So that’s what I’ve been doing. That’s why I’ve been following you. You’ve never been in any danger, even when you thought you were. The only times you even came close were in that smoke trap, which I got you out of as fast as I could, and in that pit-trap field I warned you about.”

“I really wish I’d listened to you about that,” I said, shoulders sagging.

“I know why you didn’t. I get it.” Rhett squeezed my hand tighter. “But I mean it, Ev. You were never, ever going to die on this island.”

I swallowed hard. “What if another hunter caught me? There’s so many of them.”

“Some of them tried. More than once. I sabotaged them,” he said. “And if it ever came down to it, I would’ve killed them.”

My eyes widened. “But then you’d get in trouble with the society, wouldn’t you? And your own life would be at risk.”

“No. It’s not unheard of for hunters to die from friendly fire out here. Especially with the newer hunters,” he replied. “It’s easy to mistake a rustle in the bushes as a player and take a shot, only to find out you’ve just killed one of your fellow Wilders. That’s just a risk we all take out here. So if I ever killed any of them, I could easily pass it off like that. An accident.”

“Oh.” I glanced over at Jake’s still form. “Is that what the other Wilders will think happened to him? Once someone finds him out here, that is.”

“Probably, yeah. But when they take his body in and get a proper look at it, they’ll realize he was stabbed, not shot.”

“And that can’t really be mistaken for friendly fire,” I muttered.

“No. So then they’ll think one of two things—that a fellow Wilder stabbed him to death for some reason, or that a player somehow got hold of a knife and killed him.”

“Which is more likely?”

“Probably the player theory. He told me he lost a knife after throwing it at some girl on the first day, and he always had a big mouth, so he probably mentioned it to a few others, too.”

“Kanako,” I murmured. “She was with me for a while, and she had a knife lodged in her arm when she arrived at the safe zone. It must’ve been his.”

“Do you still have it?” Rhett asked, brows rising. “If we plant it here, it’ll make the player theory even stronger.”

“No, sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “One of the others had it on them when they died, and I didn’t have time to grab their stuff.”

“I understand.” He rubbed his jaw. “It’s fine. No one will immediately suspect me of killing JJ anyway. Or you.”

“Why not me?”

“Only he and his father know you’re his ex-girlfriend, remember? The other Patriarchs and members think you’re a real player like the others.”

“Oh, right.”

“Actually, there’s a problem I didn’t consider.” Rhett’s eyes darkened. “JJ might be dead, but Peter isn’t, and he’s the fucking High Patriarch. If he starts to suspect you killed his son as revenge for bringing you here, he’ll probably have you marked as the next bounty. Almost every hunter on the island will be after you then.”

“So… I really need to get the hell out of here.”

“Yup.” He frowned, rubbing his jaw. “I need to hide you until I can figure out a proper plan.”

“Can’t you just take me off the island right now?”

“No. All travel from Wildercliff is banned while the Hunt is on.”

“Wait… what? Why?”

“It’s just in case any player happens to get access to a boat and tries to escape the island that way. If travel is banned, it’s instantly noticeable if that happens, and they can be intercepted and brought back in. But if there were boats coming back and forth all the time, it wouldn’t be as noticeable, and someone might actually get away,” he said. “So once the members and players are here, it’s locked down until it’s all over. If I tried to steal a boat to get you out of here, they’d notice immediately and intercept us.”

“Shit . ” I swallowed thickly. “That was actually my whole escape plan.”

Rhett frowned. “To leave on a boat?”

“Yes. I remembered the tunnels from when I was a kid, so I was going to look for the clearing where we saw that ritual. From there, I thought I could find the tunnel we came through that night, make it up to the manor, and steal a boat.”

He nodded slowly. “That was smart. You couldn’t have known about the lockdown.”

“Yeah,” I said glumly. “I guess I couldn’t have known any of it, really.”

Something in Rhett’s eyes suddenly shifted. “Ev… do you believe me?” he asked in a low voice. “That I didn’t know the truth about the Hunt?”

“Yes. Of course I believe you. Your reaction…” I trailed off, head shaking. “You couldn’t have faked that. No way.” I paused for another beat, gnawing at the inside of my cheek, before going on. “I am curious about something, though.”

“What?”

“Before you knew the truth, you were totally fine with killing people, as long as they were people you viewed as deserving of death,” I said. “Do you think that’ll change now? After all of this?”

His jaw clenched, and he shook his head. “The way I see it, death is the only real justice for some people. Judge me if you want. But I won’t change my mind. I won’t apologize, either.”

“I’m not judging you or demanding any apologies. I was just curious, that’s all.”

“So you don’t think I’m fucking crazy?” he asked, brows knitting. “Most people probably would.”

“Well, maybe I'm crazy too,” I said softly. “Because when you told me you'd kill people for me… that was honestly the sweetest thing I've ever heard.”

Rhett’s fingers curled gently around mine, the blood between them smearing, and he leaned in. “I meant it, Ev. I’ll kill anyone who gets in our way. Anyone who threatens you.”

“I know.”

His free hand cupped my face, thumb wiping away a streak of blood on my cheek, and then he closed the distance between us, lips claiming mine in a kiss that was neither gentle nor restrained. It was raw, desperate, filled with every unspoken word he’d buried deep for so long.

My hands tightened on his jacket, pulling him closer. His touch, his kiss… it wasn’t just a comfort. It was a promise. A promise that I wasn’t alone in this darkness. A promise that he’d stay in it with me, no matter what came next.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us were breathing hard. Rhett’s forehead rested against mine, his voice low and hoarse. “You’re mine, Everly. Don’t ever forget that.”

A rumble of thunder rolled through the sky before I could reply. I didn’t need to, though. Not really. I knew the look in my eyes already said everything.

He glanced upward. “It’s almost dark, and there’ll be more storms soon. We should go.”

“Where?”

“Up to the Lodge,” he said. He saw the question flickering in my eyes and added, “Wildercliff Manor.”

“You want to take me there ?” I said, eyes widening. “Isn’t that where all the Wilders are staying right now?”

“Technically, yeah. But do you remember the part we stayed in when we were kids?”

“Yes,” I said, brows furrowing.

“That’s the west wing. It’s older than the rest and used a lot less, because the north and east wings are closer to the hunting grounds, and everyone wants a chance to catch a glimpse of the action,” he explained. “So the Wilders always stay in those parts, while the west wing is basically a giant ghost town. As long as we’re careful, no one should see us sneak in there.”

“Is that why they put us there when we were kids?” I asked. “Because they didn’t want us to run into any of the Wilders who were there for the ritual?”

Rhett nodded. “Yup.”

“But why even bring kids here in the first place?” I asked, nose wrinkling.

“It’s because most members want to be here for the final senior trial every year, so they can congratulate the new members and welcome them into the brotherhood,” he explained. “It happens over the summer, so some of the guys bring their wives and kids and ditch them in the west wing of Wildercliff for a few days, so they can relax or play on the beach while all the Wilder shit goes on in other areas. No one’s ever had any issue with it, because it’s a nice place to stay, as long as you stick to the boundaries.”

“Right,” I muttered. “So you really think it’ll be okay for me to go there now?”

“Yes. People usually only stay in the west wing during summer. And if anyone happens to be there anyway and sees us…” Rhett trailed off, brows lifting. “Well, I already told you what’ll happen to them.”

I looked up at the rapidly darkening sky. “You were right before. We should head off before this weather gets any worse,” I said. “I’m glad it’s almost dark, though. It’ll cover us better once we arrive at the manor, right?”

“Yes. For now, we’ll stick to the dead zones, and then we’ll head into a tunnel. That way no one will spot us on the live stream.” Rhett glanced at his watch. “It’ll take about two hours, but if you’re too tired to walk, I can carry you.”

I smiled faintly. I knew he wasn’t just pretending to be some big macho man. He really would carry me all the way if he had to. “Thanks,” I said. “I can walk, though.”

We covered Jake’s body with a small tarp we found in his bag, just in case. Then we trudged away through the underbrush for about half an hour, sticking to safe corridors with blind spots, until we finally arrived at a tunnel entrance. Its mouth was framed by jagged stone, and thick tendrils of ivy clung to the edges.

“Wait.” Rhett lifted a hand to stop me from entering. Then he dropped his bag and started rifling through it. “We need to deal with your wristband before we go any farther.”

“Oh, shit. I forgot all about this thing,” I said, nervously running my fingertips over the black and silver band. “It’s GPS-tracked, isn’t it?”

“Yup. If you break it, it’ll instantly register with the tech guys, and they’ll report it. Then the Patriarchs will know something is up and start looking for you,” Rhett said. He paused and rose to his full height again, holding up a tiny screwdriver. “But if we remove it properly, so it still works, they won’t know anything’s happened. They’ll just think you found a good spot to hide for a while.”

“Okay.”

Rhett crouched down in front of me, his expression calm but focused. “Give me your wrist.”

I extended my arm, and he carefully cradled it in his hand, turning the wristband so the underside faced up. The screwdriver gleamed in his other hand as he angled it toward the tiny screws securing the band to my wrist.

“This is going to take a minute,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “Hold still.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse ticking in my throat as I watched him work. His movements were deliberate and meticulous, his brow furrowed in concentration. I realized I’d never seen him behave so gently before. His hands, capable of so much violence, were now steady and careful as they brushed over my skin.

“What happens if—” I stopped abruptly, unwilling to voice the sudden fear bubbling up my throat.

“If I fuck it up?” Rhett finished without looking up. A faint smile ghosted his lips, but his eyes remained sharp as he eased the first screw free and set it aside. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

As he worked, I kept my arm as still as possible, trying to focus on how warm his touch felt against my wrist or how his thumb unconsciously stroked my skin, calming me without words. Finally, with a faint click, the last screw gave way. Rhett removed the band in one smooth motion, holding it delicately between his fingers as though it were a live wire.

“There.” He stooped and placed the wristband behind a large moss-covered boulder. “Now it looks like you’re still playing the game. No one will know you’re actually up at the Lodge. I can also come back out here every few hours and move it, so the tech guys won’t get suspicious when they see your tracker in the exact same spot on the map all the time.”

I rubbed at the raw skin on my wrist, relief flooding me. “Thanks,” I murmured, lifting my hand to my earbud. “Should I get rid of this too?”

“I don’t think they have trackers on them. But toss it just in case.”

I did as he said, throwing the earbud into the nearby underbrush. Then I turned back to the tunnel entrance.

Inside, the air was damp and cool, carrying the faint metallic tang of rust and decay. The walls, reinforced with slabs of concrete and thick steel beams, loomed high above us, curving into an arched ceiling that stretched wider than I anticipated.

“This is a lot bigger than I remember,” I said, forehead wrinkling.

“It’s a different tunnel than the one we came through as kids. But they’re all bigger now,” Rhett replied. “About ten years ago, they were widened and reinforced.”

“Ah.” I glanced nervously over my shoulder. “What do you think the chances are of running into another hunter in here?”

“Almost zero. The Wilders that only hunt during the day would’ve headed back to the Lodge an hour ago, and the others will stay out in the hunting grounds.”

“But won’t some of them come in here to escape the rain?”

“I doubt it. There’s cabins all over the place, so the guys who care about dodging the weather will probably find the closest one and camp out there.”

“Ah.” I nodded slowly. “Sorry I keep asking so many questions. I don’t mean to be annoying.”

Rhett smiled. “It’s not annoying. And trust me—I have a million questions in my head right now too,” he said. “So go ahead. Ask me anything you want. It’ll be a good way to pass the time as we walk.”

“Okay, um…” I paused, brows furrowing. “How long has The Wild Hunt existed?”

“Since 1892.”

“I figured it was probably pretty old,” I said. “Do you know the original purpose of it? I’m assuming it wasn’t to make a ton of money, seeing as internet streaming didn’t exist back then.”

“It was originally a bunch of rich guys who got together as a networking sort of thing, to ensure their male descendants would always have connections. Like most secret societies,” Rhett replied. “Somewhere along the line, a few of them created an offshoot that became The Wild Hunt. A secret society with the addition of a human hunt. It was a way for the men to enact their version of vigilante justice on people they considered deserving of it, while also satisfying their own bloodthirsty urges.”

“You kind of sound like you’re reading from a script.”

He chuckled softly. “I am, sort of. We learned the history of the society in a lecture in our first year, and I remember most of it word for word,” he said. “They leave out everything about the current Hunt, though. They make it sound as if it’s all a relic of the past.”

“Wait.” I stopped in my tracks, frowning. “While you’re uninitiated, you don’t know about the Hunt at all?”

“Not officially. In the first three years, we’re trained in various ways and participate in pretend hunts using fake targets. We come here and learn every inch of the island, too,” he said. “They make it seem like we’re just blowing off steam and preparing for a hunt involving animals. But we’re not fucking stupid. We can all tell there’s a lot more at the higher level. And I guess there’s always guys like JJ, too. Guys who are told everything by their big-mouthed parents.”

“Oh.” I started walking again. “So you only officially learn about the Hunt in your senior year, even though most of you already know—or at least suspect—something about it.”

“Yup.”

“Why do the fully-fledged members keep it from you, then? If most of you already know about it.”

“Because the final trial involves all of the uninitiated members teaming up to hunt down and kill a guy, remember?” he said. “They don’t tell us the whole truth until we’ve completed that.”

“Ah.” Understanding finally dawned on me. “That way you all share culpability. So if a member changes their mind about being part of the society, they’re less likely to try and expose it to the world. It’s like a twisted form of insurance.”

“Exactly. Even if you never participate in a single Hunt during your membership, you’re still linked to at least one extra-judicial death. It’s a good way to ensure trust—and silence—between members,” he said. “But we also have other things in place to make sure we don’t get caught.”

“Like what?”

“One of the Patriarchs is the state police commissioner. So even if an angry or regretful member tried to expose us, he’d shut down any investigation right away. Frame it as a hoax, or something like that,” he said. “Also, two of the other Patriarchs are senators, so that’s useful too.”

My lips thinned. “So basically, you guys have tentacles everywhere.”

“Yup. If someone has to leave the society after becoming a full member—like that asshole Ryan, for example—they’re so shit-scared of retribution that the rest of us know they’ll never breathe a word to anyone.”

“God,” I said breathlessly. I couldn’t imagine living through an entire lifetime of fear.

“There’s more, too. In our first year, we have to do a confession ceremony. Basically, we share our deepest, darkest secret to everyone else in the society and entrust them with it. It’s supposed to bring us all closer. Make us more like brothers,” Rhett said. “But now I think I know the real purpose. It’s just another layer of blackmail. Something that only exists to make sure members think twice about crossing the society. Because if they do, their secret could be revealed to the world as payback.”

My brows dipped in a frown. “Couldn’t you just lie? Make up a fake secret?”

“I’m sure a few guys probably make up some bullshit when they go through the ceremony. But I didn’t. I took my vows to the society seriously, and I told the truth,” he replied. “Obviously, I didn’t know the Patriarchs weren’t taking any of the fucking vows seriously, or I never would’ve wasted my time and energy.”

I frowned and cocked my head. “When did the internet and online streaming start being a thing?”

“No idea. I honestly didn’t even know they were making money from the dark web until JJ told us.”

“No, I mean… when did the internet and streaming become a thing in general? 2000-ish? Or the late 90s?”

“Somewhere around then, yeah.”

“And when did Peter Jennings become the High Patriarch?”

“1999.”

I nodded slowly. “I’m guessing it was his idea, then. Bring the Wilders into the future and capitalize on the cyber revolution, or whatever,” I said. I paused for a beat, swallowing hard. “I can’t even imagine how much dark-web money must’ve been made for the society over the last twenty years.”

“I’m guessing hundreds of millions, based on what JJ said.”

“God. That’s insane.” I exhaled deeply, my head shaking. “One more question. What are you going to do about it?”

“About the Patriarchs, you mean? Now that I know the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Well, my first priority is ensuring your safety and getting you off this island. But once I’ve done that, I’m going to take those motherfuckers down.” Rhett’s voice had turned rough again, filled with fury. “They’ve lied and used the rest of us for so fucking long, just to line their pockets. So I don’t know how yet, but they’re going down. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’ll help you figure it out,” I said, slipping my hand into his. “I hate them just as much as you do.”

Rhett stopped abruptly, squeezing my hand tight. “Ev… taking down the society will be dangerous. You don’t owe me any help. Not after all the shit that’s happened to you, part of which I’m responsible for.”

I defiantly lifted my chin. “I know it’s dangerous,” I said. “But I’ll be okay. I have a guy who’s promised to watch out for me and eliminate anyone who gets in my way.”

He chuckled. “Using my promise against me, huh?” he said, moving an arm around my waist. “Very sneaky, princess.”

“We’re in this together, Rhett. Whether you like it or not.”

“I like it.” The amusement in his voice had vanished, replaced by something raw and unguarded. “I love it.”

We set off down the tunnel again, hand in hand. At the end, it opened onto a sprawling, overgrown estate shrouded in the eerie quiet of night. Wildercliff Manor loomed ahead, its hulking silhouette etched against the dark sky.

The windows of the sprawling west wing were dark. A massive arched doorway stood at the center, flanked by cracked statues, their features eroded into grotesque, unrecognizable shapes.

“Welcome back,” Rhett murmured, his voice low and grim.

I laughed drily. “I’m suddenly struck by the urge to burn this whole place down.”

“One thing at a time,” he replied. “Right now, you need a hot shower and a full night’s rest. You’ll get that in there.”

“Good point.”

Just as we arrived at the doorway, a light suddenly switched on in the foyer beyond it, and Rhett stopped in his tracks. “Shit,” he muttered. “Get behind that statue. I’ll deal with this.”

I did as he said, ducking behind the closest statue as the door creaked open. A petite woman in a gray and white uniform stepped out, and she gasped as she caught sight of Rhett.

“Oh! Sorry, sir!” she said, one hand fluttering at her throat. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone else on this part of the estate.”

“Sorry for scaring you. I didn’t know you’d be here either,” Rhett said, lifting a palm. “But hey, you might be able to help me with something.”

“Of course, sir.”

“I’m looking for my friend, Jacob Jennings. He’s the son of the owner.”

The maid smiled. “Oh, yes, I know who you’re talking about. I haven’t seen him, though.”

“Oh, damn. I thought he told me he was sleeping in the west wing tonight.” Rhett tilted his head. “Are you sure you didn’t see him in there? Or anyone else, for that matter?”

The maid shook her head. “As far as I know, all the rooms in the west wing are empty right now,” she said. “The only reason I even went in today was to dust things, just to make sure it doesn’t build up too much. I’m sure you know what these old buildings can be like.”

“Sure do.” Rhett waved a casual hand. “I must’ve misheard JJ. Anyway, I’ll let you go. Have a good night.”

“Thank you, sir.” The maid hesitated, glancing at the foyer behind her. “Should I just leave the light on for you? In case you want to wait for your friend. He could still be on his way over here.”

“Good idea.” Rhett nodded slowly. “I’ll wait for him.”

He waited on the threshold until the maid was a safe distance away, and then he called out to me. “It’s safe. We can go in.”

We trudged inside, and my chest tightened as my gaze swept over the towering spiral staircase ahead of us. It looked exactly how I remembered.

“It hasn’t changed in here at all,” I murmured.

“I guess they don’t see any point in renovating it, seeing as hardly any guests stay here,” he replied, holding onto my arm as we began our ascent. “The north wing got redone last year, and the east a few years before that.”

“Ah, right.” We reached the next floor, and my brows rose as I peered down the hall. “Holy shit. The more I see, the more I remember. It’s so weird.”

“Yeah, it’s funny how our memories work sometimes.”

I pointed ahead. “My room was right there. On the left, fourth door down.”

“Should we sleep in there?”

I lifted my shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “Sure, why not?”

When we arrived at the door, Rhett twisted the knob and pushed it open. The room beyond was just as I remembered. Dark wooden furniture filled the space, and through the windows, I could see a small horseshoe bay glinting beneath the stars.

Rhett stepped inside first, scanning the room before motioning for me to enter. Once I was in, he turned and locked the door behind us. “Just in case,” he muttered.

He pulled the curtains closed and moved toward the adjoining bathroom, pushing the door open to reveal a surprisingly modern space compared to the rest of the west wing—white tiles, gleaming fixtures, and a glass-enclosed shower. “Looks like this part got an upgrade, at least,” he said.

I followed him in, suddenly registering that my body was aching with exhaustion. My reflection in the mirror caught my eye, and I grimaced. Blood streaked my cheeks, dirt smudged my neck, and my hair hung in damp tangles. “God, I look like I’ve been dragged straight through hell.”

“You have,” Rhett said quietly, stepping behind me. His eyes met mine in the mirror. “You can shower first. I’ll keep watch.”

I turned, shaking my head. “No. It’ll be faster if we just—” I hesitated, cheeks warming as my gaze flicked to the shower and back to him. “We’ll just do it together. The door’s locked anyway, and like you said… no one ever comes here at this time of year.”

His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he slipped out of his jacket and reached for the hem of his shirt. He pulled it off in one smooth motion, revealing the sharp lines of muscle crisscrossed with scars and tattoos.

I swallowed hard and turned toward the shower, my fingers fumbling with the hem of my sweatshirt.

Rhett finished undressing, turned the shower on, and stepped in, water slicking down his skin almost instantly, highlighting every ridge of muscle.

For a moment, he stood there under the spray, head tilted back, eyes closed. Then his gaze dropped to me, intense as ever, and his lips curved into a smirk.

“Get in here, princess.”