Make Me A Hunter (Make Me Hunt Duet #2)

one

-Brynn-

Thump

Thump

Thump

Silence infiltrates every corner of my mind, dark claws reach to grab me and drag me into their depths, ready to ruin me.

I fight the emptiness, but it’s too strong, too overwhelming, and the alternative, even worse.

The more I fight it, the more I feel the pain ripping through me.

I feel numb, and at the same time, I feel like I’m on fire.

The more I chase the silence away, the faster sharp pain replaces it, darkness turning to light as the black veil behind my eyes rips apart to make room, maybe for something even more horrendous than the darkness. Ares.

Ares the God, is standing in front of me.

Because I can clearly see there’s nothing human about him.

His honey eyes are now dark, fixed directly on me, like a trace of confusion is shadowing them, but also the flicker of realization of what’s really happening here.

His stance is menacing. The metal armor drapes his shoulders, giving him an unearthly glow, while the warrior braids fall against the steel mask covering his mouth, like he’s built for destruction.

I want to focus on him, but the anguish slashing through me devours all other senses, forcing me to focus only on what’s really happening to me.

I try to move, though it's only my hands, that respond to me. I can’t tell if I’m numb from the waist down, or if the agony is so loud it’s overridden half of my body.

I focus on making sense of things, as if I’ve been gone a lifetime, though judging by Ares’ position, it’s only been a moment. His gaze holds the same intensity, confusion still lingering somewhere within him after he realized he wasn’t facing Cynthia. He was facing me—his little curse.

I want to say something, but nothing comes out except for a wail. The sensation in my legs creeps up my spine, choking my vocal cords. Yet still, the pain doesn’t come close to the devastating effect of failure.

I failed.

I failed Elias.

And even if I don’t understand why I am still alive—or if I even am alive, because it sure doesn’t feel like it—the more I look at Ares, the more I see the darkness taking hold of him.

I know where this is leading. I can see the shift in his muscles, the dark veins spreading between the ink on his skin.

I can’t really tell if he’s preparing to kill me or stopping himself from doing so. At this point, I don’t even know what I’d prefer.

I’m starting to think I’d like him to end me, because there is no future after this, no matter how things pan out. But then my stupid self-preservation instinct kicks in, and panic replaces the hate. A panic I don’t want but can’t ignore.

I try to look down and see what the fuck happened... and whether I still have the lower half of my body attached or not. But as soon as I try to move, I hear a loud growl, more similar to a wild beast than one of a man.

Ares drops to his knees in front of me, his eyes no longer on me but on the entrance door, like he’s waiting for someone to burst in at any moment.

For a second, I contemplate grabbing my sword.

I see it lying at the tip of my fingers.

I could end it all here and now—one way or the other. But something tells me to hold back.

The second my eyes raise, they meet Ares’.

Damn, they look like endless pools of darkness.

His nostrils flare, like the next thing he’ll do is spit fire at me.

For a moment, I even question if he can really do that.

Because he sure as hell shoots flames through his eyes, his gaze is burning me with the intensity of a thousand suns, ready to punish me for trying to end him. Truth is, he has every right to.

Still, I’m too proud to say anything, to ask for help, especially as I look down and realize what happened. My body is trapped between wooden boards, one piercing my flesh, and another lodged in my leg as if it had grown there.

The floor gave out when I jumped from the table to take Ares’ head. Maybe that’s what saved my life. But I also know that if he wanted me dead, I’d be dead by now.

Ares comes closer, and I glance at the sword again. But right before I get a chance to act, he picks up on where my eyes are pointing and pushes it away with his hand. Another growl escapes his throat, and for a moment, I’m frozen, trying to read his next move when I don’t even know mine.

He doesn’t keep me waiting. As if he’s pressed for time, he just grabs my arms and wraps them around his neck, like I’m supposed to hold on to him.

Which I do because, right now, I don’t have any other plan, and I’d do pretty much any-fucking-thing to get out of the mess I’m currently very stuck in.

One of his arms goes around my waist, lifting me slightly. It feels as if I weigh nothing, as he keeps me in a position like I’m levitating, where the pressure of the board in my leg doesn’t feel as excruciating. We lock eyes, and I want to say something, but I have absolutely no idea what.

Do I still want to kill him? Do I want to beg him to save me? Or maybe I just want to ask him what the hell he’s doing.

Still, there’s something holding me back from parting my lips to speak.

I’m starting to think it’s the fear that he won’t even understand me, because he’s much more beast than man right now.

As if just to prove my point, he starts ripping the floor around me with one hand, while the arm he has around me doesn’t even flinch.

Like, ripping the whole damn building apart poses no difficulty for him.

In just a few seconds, there’s a large hole around me, the only thing keeping me from falling to the next floor is his arm, and the damn wood, piercing my leg.

I look down to assess the real damage, and the second I see the blood pooling on the board, my vision blurs. But the game is still on, and that forces me to quickly snap back into focus as I see shadows beneath me.

Someone is down there. Players, maybe Rats on the second floor.

“Fuck,” Ares curses, and if I hadn’t heard him, I’d suspect he isn’t even able to talk anymore.

But then he looks at me again, like his gaze is asking me to follow it.

Which I do because it’s fucking magnetic.

His black orbs, like onyx marbles—lifeless, yet filled with all life in the universe.

His features rough, but so seductive that there are moments when I think this man could make me do anything he wanted—I would even welcome it.

He’s like a precious diamond. Unbreakable, yet carved to absolute perfection.

“Breathe,” he orders, and I remember just the last time he asked me to do that. The night we first had sex. It was a very different situation, but one just as impossible as this one. Because the second he breaks the board with his free hand, I forget how to breathe.

The movement is impossibly light, like the damn thing broke with the snap of his fingers, but the pain is still there, more present than ever, grabbing hold of me like a nightmare, seeping into my every cell.

Something my body barely handles, and I’m unable to keep the scream of pain from tearing out of me.

I’m starting to fucking regret giving Gina my morphine and bandages.

Those surely would’ve come in handy right now.

I don’t even know when Ares sets me down on the floor, my eyes struggling to stay focused and remain in the room with him without losing consciousness.

“Eyes on me,” I hear him groan, and I quickly realize this isn’t just in my head. My body is fighting the pain, numbing my senses, and even if it would be so easy to drift off right now, I listen to his command. His tone isn’t something I can refuse, even half dead.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Brynn?” he roars, anger seeping through every word.

I raise my head to look at him, but I don’t answer because that’s exactly what’s running through my mind right now.

What the fuck was I thinking, taking a god on alone in a direct battle?

I never stood a chance, yet somehow, I’m mad enough to know it isn’t over.

Elias is still lifeless, buried in the woods.

I grunt in frustration and pain because there’s every chance I’ll die here tonight without completing my mission.

But then there’s a fear sneaking inside me that was never there before.

It’s not the fear of failure anymore, but the fear of actually dying.

Of my existence ending in the next few moments.

And that’s when my stupid survival instinct kicks in, and I’d do anything to stay alive.

I flinch under Ares’ annoyed gaze before it drops to my bleeding leg.

He moves gently, like he’s calculating every single one of his movements, ensuring he won’t hurt me anymore than I already am. Only seconds pass before I hear it—footsteps behind me. Fast. Closing in.

I try to push myself on my elbows, so I can see what’s happening, maybe even grab my sword, but before I even get to look over my shoulder, Ares is on his feet, his blade in one hand, and the fire of destruction burning in his eyes.

Two men have come in through the door. One with the silhouette of a double axe strapped to his leg and the other dragging along some tool…

like an oversized ice pick. Both grotesque enough to make my spine tingle, and both carrying the same murderous intent.

Not that either of them will see it through.

Ares’ face reflects the same murderous gaze, a thousand times more dangerous, than the men who just came to confront us.

He doesn’t even wait for them to make the first move.

He just runs toward them, like he’s trying to save time, heavy steps, pounding against the floor as if the wood is threatening to break under his weight.

The men barely manage to raise their weapons before their heads fall severed at their feet, their bodies following moments after.

It all happens in just a split second, enough to make me realize the real killing machine I was up against. The same killing machine doesn’t even wait to see their heads hit the floor, just rushes back to me, as if he’s afraid I wouldn’t be there if he hesitated a moment longer.

His gaze is locked on me, like he refuses to let me out of his sight.

I notice him digging through his pockets for something with one hand, as his free hand starts untying his belt.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Is he actually thinking about sex right now? And what’s he’s searching for in his pocket?

He pulls his belt free, then takes something as large as his palm from his pocket and shoves it in my mouth. “Bite on this,” he orders, leaving no room for negotiations.

As I glance at the object, I realize it’s a pocket-sized knife with a wooden handle.

My first instinct is to spit out the knife and snap at him for whatever the fuck he’s doing, but then I realize the blood loss must be affecting me more than I thought.

He wasn’t removing his belt to undo his pants—as appealing that thought might be for my treacherous cunt, who I suspect gets turned on by pain.

He’s using it as a tourniquet, wrapping it around my leg, then pulling it tight through the buckle.

I steady the knife in my mouth, realizing what’s gonna happen next, then nod for him to do it. I don’t have much time before I’d black out if he doesn’t stop the bleeding.

I hear him curse something under his breath as he fastens the belt in a tight grip that feels like it’s gonna rip my leg apart.

I think I almost broke my jaw with how hard I bit down on the knife, the pain hitting with such intensity that it feels like a maddening pulse taking control of my whole body.

My head falls back. My hands are shaking, I don’t even think I can speak because as soon as I open my mouth, only shrieks of pain come out.

Ares is just finishing up checking if the belt is tight enough when I hear footsteps in the distance, then across the floor again.

Only this time, it feels like I’m dreaming.

An open-eyed nightmare where two shadows come for us while the man towering above me strikes them both down in a single sword blow, their bodies splitting in half, and falling right next to me.

Ares just killed them with one fucking hand, maybe even with just the lift of a finger, and if I’m still seeing things right, he did it without even looking at them. I must be delirious.

Ares rises to his feet, his gaze scans the room like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. But then, he quickly kneels again, scooping me into his arms and heading straight for a… a wall.

I want to ask him what the fuck he’s doing, but the sounds come out as a bunch of babble more than actual words.

“Keep quiet, you’ll be safe in here until this is over,” he murmurs, opening the wall somehow, and I notice a small crevice like a built-in hidden room, just large enough to fit a grown person…

not comfortably, though. In fact, it’s tight enough that I involuntarily let out a scream as Ares sets my leg down as straight as he can.

“You’re not locking me in here,” I press my hands to his chest to push him away so I can get free, but he doesn’t even seem to register it. Though it does get him to pull off my own belt and tie my hands behind my back, so I won't try something stupid like an escape.

“Stay here and keep quiet if you want to live. Don’t make me gag you—I’m only holding back because you’re injured.

But don’t test me, Brynn. One more mistake, and I’ll kill you myself.

” He slams the door behind him, the sound echoing loudly in my ears like the final note to an order I am supposed to obey.

To be honest, I think it’s the only thing I can do, right now.

I wouldn’t survive getting out of this place, even if by some miracle, I managed to escape Ares.

Though I feel like my fate, if I don’t escape him, will be worse than death.