Chapter 6 - Adrian
ADRIAN
She stops running.
And oh… that makes me smile.
Behind the cracked porcelain, behind the too-wide grin I wear like a second face, I can’t stop grinning for real. I feel the tension roll off her, half fear, half something she doesn’t want to admit yet.
Something hot… Something hungry.
I keep my distance for now, gliding between stalks like a whisper dressed in bone-white and shadow. Every broken laugh I left for her in the speakers is still humming in the back of her head. I can see it. She flinches when the corn rustles. Pauses when the wind dies too suddenly.
She thinks she’s catching on to us. She thinks she knows what kind of game this is. I wonder what she'll do when she finds out there are no rules.
Just the three of us… And her.
Our little prize with blood in her cheeks and wild in her eyes.
I glance to the side. Harlan is circling wide, always the first to close the gap. He hunts like a beast. No subtlety about it. Just pure obsession.
Elias waits in the center like a spider, letting the fear build until it softens them, weakens the edges. Lila doesn’t know it, but he’s already her future. The last face she’ll see before this night ends.
And me? I’m the fire under her skin.
I move closer.
The corn brushes my coat, dry fingers trying to hold me back.
But nothing slows me down. I love this part, when they haven’t quite decided whether they’re terrified or thrilled, when their logic is starting to break.
When they stop asking, What happens if I don’t get out?
And start wondering, What happens if I stay?
Lila’s standing dead center in the path, hands curled into fists, lips parted like she’s waiting for something to strike.
Good… I’ll give her a moment, but only one.
I step out of the corn with slow, deliberate steps.
She sees me. Her eyes snap to mine, or at least where mine would be, behind the mask. Her breath catches, and that tiny break in rhythm? Delicious.
I don’t speak yet. Just tilt my head like I’m admiring her, and I am. She’s flushed and breathing hard, eyes flashing. The light above us flickers, casting half of her face in shadow.
Only... she’s not trying to escape. She’s waiting to see what we’ll do next.
I slowly raise one hand and make a single beckoning motion with two fingers.
Come here.
She doesn't move.
Neither do I.
We're playing a new game now. No more chase. No more run-or-die. This is the part where we see what she's made of. I lean in slightly, my voice curling around the inside of the mask like a secret wrapped in silk and sin. “You look like you want to be caught.”
She flinches, but not away, but towards us.
Oh, Lila.
You're not just in the maze. You're part of it now.
The game has shifted from prey and predator to something more tangled. Something more… She’s staring into the hollow eyes of my mask, her chest rising and falling, lips parted just slightly—not from fear… from heat. She doesn’t even realize she’s swaying closer.
I do.
My head tilts, slow and smooth, the cracked porcelain smile locked in place, but the grin underneath is too real. I could touch her now. Reach out and wrap a hand around her throat, or trail my knuckles along her jaw, or press two fingers into that pulse fluttering so beautifully in her neck.
It would be so easy. She’s so close… But I don’t.
Not yet.
Lila’s not the type to break. She needs to choose it, and that’s what makes this fun.
She doesn’t speak. I don’t either. The silence between us stretches. She wets her lips.
That tiny movement?
It hits me harder than it should. Makes my cock painfully hard.
I step closer. One boot forward, slow and deliberate, just to see what she’ll do. She stiffens, but doesn’t retreat. Her eyes follow the movement like prey watching the jaws open. But there's no panic in her. Just coiled tension, and something glittering behind her gaze. A challenge.
She wants to test me… Careful, sweetheart.
I take another step.
She lets me.
I stop just in front of her, barely a breath of space between us. The fog curls around our ankles. Her scent hits me, sweat and adrenaline, yes, but something sweeter beneath it. Salt on skin. Breathless, nervous energy.
If I lifted my mask right now, just a little, just enough—I could taste her.
I don’t. Instead, I lean forward, my voice low and close to her ear, just soft enough that it makes her lean in without realizing.
“You don’t want out of the maze.” Her breath stutters, but I don’t pull away.
“You want to see what happens when you stop pretending to be scared.”
I feel her hands twitch. Not to push me away. Not quite to reach for me, either. She’s stuck in the space between want and fear. Between yes and no.
And I live in that space. I draw a gloved hand up, slow and unthreatening, and hover it just beside her cheek. I don’t touch her, but I let her feel the warmth of it. The option of it. The moment she leans in even a centimeter, just the barest motion, I close the space.
Gloved fingers skim her jawline reverently. She gasps. I drag that same hand to the nape of her neck, fingers spreading, palm pressing gently against her spine. I feel the way her muscles tighten under my touch, like her whole body’s holding still, waiting to see what I’ll do next.
So I give her just enough. I lean down, still masked, until the porcelain mouth hovers beside hers. Close enough that she could tip forward and kiss it. Close enough that if I breathed, she’d feel it. “Say it,” I whisper.
She doesn’t answer. I tighten my grip on the back of her neck—not painful, just firm. Dominant. “Tell me what you want, Lila.”
Her breath catches again. She’s trembling now, but not from fear. Not really.
And that’s when I feel it—more than hear it.
Movement. Behind us.
To the right, and the left. The others are watching. Waiting.
Not interrupting. Not yet, but when the time comes, I know we’ll be fighting over who gets to take her first. But this moment? It’s mine.
But I feel Harlan’s presence thrum like a growl in the fog, possessive and dangerous. And Elias, he’s near too. Silent as ever. Calculating. They won’t stay in the shadows for long.
I press the front of my mask gently to her cheek, almost like a kiss, letting the cracked grin drag softly along her skin. “You should decide quickly, sweetheart,” I murmur. “Because soon? You won’t be choosing.”