Chapter 12 Saige
Saige
The memory of Bram's husky threat sent another delicious shiver down my spine as I crept through the darkened hallway. "When I catch you, I'm going to taste that pussy." Honestly? I couldn't fucking wait.
My heart hammered against my ribs, a wild rhythm that matched the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Behind me, I knew I was being hunted. I could hear creaking floorboards in between the lulls of that creepy music that my heart seemed to be beating in rhythm with.
I slipped around a corner and found myself facing a heavy wooden door, slightly ajar. Without hesitation, I pushed through and immediately froze.
Holy shit.
The room was a fever dream of medieval horror.
A massive four-poster bed dominated the center, its deep burgundy velvet curtains hanging like dried blood in the dim light.
But it wasn't the bed that made my breath catch—it was the three plague doctor mannequins perched around it like silent sentinels.
Each figure wore the traditional black robes and that nightmare-inducing leather beak mask, their gloved hands positioned as if they were examining an invisible patient.
One sat on the edge of the bed, another stood at the foot, and the third loomed beside a table covered in antique medical instruments that looked suspiciously real.
The amber lighting cast eerie shadows that made the mannequins seem almost alive, their empty eye sockets somehow following my movement. A chill that had nothing to do with arousal skittered across my skin.
But underneath the creepy factor, my body still thrummed with anticipation. The game wasn't over—if anything, this macabre setting only added to the thrill.
I pressed my back against the door, my breathing shallow and quick. The plague doctors watched silently as I tried to decide my next move. Stay and let them find me here? Or make another run for it?
The floorboards creaked somewhere in the hallway beyond, and my pulse spiked—decision time.
A wicked grin spread across my face as I moved deeper into the room, positioning myself behind the standing mannequin. If they came into the room, they'd never see me.
My skin prickled with goosebumps as I crouched behind the standing mannequin, every nerve ending on high alert.
The silence stretched, broken only by the distant sound of that haunting music and my own shallow breathing.
I could feel the presence of the figure behind me—motionless, patient. Waiting.
Something felt... off.
My gaze drifted across the room, seeking anything out of place in this carefully constructed nightmare. That's when I spotted it in the ornate mirror hanging on the far wall—a reflection that made my blood run cold.
Behind the velvet couch, several pairs of naked mannequin legs jutted out at odd angles, like discarded dolls. My heart lurched. Why would there be extra mannequin parts just lying around?
Every instinct I had screamed danger, but I had to know. Had to look.
Moving as quietly as possible, I crept toward the couch, my black flats silent on the wooden floor. With each step, that creeping sensation between my shoulder blades intensified, like invisible eyes tracking my every movement.
I reached the edge of the couch and slowly, carefully, peered behind it.
Three naked plastic mannequins lay in a tangle of limbs, their faces blank and eyeless.
The realization hit me like a glass of water to the face.
I spun around, my mouth opening in a gasp of shock and terror, and that's when I saw them.
All three plague doctors were moving—no, advancing—toward me with deliberate, predatory steps.
The leather beaks gleamed in the amber light, and behind those empty eye holes, I caught the glint of very real, very familiar eyes.
A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal, echoing off the walls of the medieval chamber. My heart hammered so hard I thought it might burst as I realized the truth—my hunters had been lying in wait all along, watching me from behind those terrifying masks.
The game had just taken a deliciously sinister turn, and I was trapped with nowhere to run.
The three figures advanced like something out of my worst nightmare, but the thrill racing through my veins was anything but terror. This was the kind of fear that made every nerve ending sing with anticipation.
"Fuck!" I gasped, scrambling backward until my spine hit the wall.
Without thinking, I bolted—or tried to. I feinted left around the bed, hoping to make it back to the door, but one of the plague doctors moved faster than I expected. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me clean off my feet before I could take more than three steps.
"No, no, no!" I shrieked, kicking wildly as I was hefted over a broad shoulder like a sack of grain. Even through my mock struggle, I caught the familiar scent of smoldering campfire that belonged to only one person.
Sloane.
I should have known. My grumpy dragon was fast when he wanted to be. My fists pounded against his back as he carried me toward the massive four-poster bed, but it was like hitting a brick wall.
"Put me down, you oversized lizard!" I yelled, though my voice came out breathless with excitement rather than genuine distress.
His only response was a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrated through his chest—and then his gloved hand came down hard on my ass with a sharp crack that made me yelp.
"Holy shit!" The sound echoed through the room, followed immediately by a rush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
Before I could process the sensation fully, I was airborne. Sloane tossed me onto the bed like I weighed nothing, and I bounced once on the plush burgundy velvet before scrambling to my knees. The mattress was soft beneath me, the rich fabric cool against my skin.
I spun around to face my captors, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.
All three plague doctors stood at the foot of the bed now, their leather beaks tilted at predatory angles as they watched me.
The light caught the reflection in their eye holes, and I could see the hunger burning there.
My pulse hammered in my throat as I realized there was nowhere left to run.
The hunt was over.
Now the real fun could begin.