Chapter 17 Ryder
RYDER
Cora sleeps peacefully in the center of the orgy room. In the dim light, the bruises on her skin tell stories that make my blood boil—not just the marks we left during our time together, but the older ones. Yellowed fingerprints on her upper arms. The fading discoloration along her jaw.
At the start of this Hunt, I wanted to break her, to use her as a weapon against her piece of shit father. Now? I’m not sure what this feeling is, but it’s nothing like what I expected.
“What are you thinking about?” Dominic’s voice is rough with exhaustion.
I glance over at him, sprawled beside me on the massive sofa, his eyes half-lidded but alert. “How fucked up this all is,” I admit. “We came here to destroy her, and now...”
“Now you’re getting soft,” he says, but there’s no bite to it. His eyes drift to the bruises on her arm—the ones we didn’t put there.
“You ever seen abuse up close before?” I ask.
Dominic’s jaw tightens. “More than I care to remember.”
“Mayor Pike, that self-righteous fuck, standing on every podium preaching about family values while he beats his daughter.” I force myself to unclench my free hand. “No wonder she signed up for this shit. Anything to get away from him.”
“The bruise on her jaw,” Dominic says quietly. “That was fresh.”
“Must have happened right before she came here.” The thought makes my stomach twist. “You know what’s fucked up? I almost want to thank him. If he hadn’t been such a monster, she’d never have ended up here with us.”
Dominic’s laugh is humorless. “That’s certainly one way to look at it.”
“Think about it, though,” I continue. “We were supposed to be her punishment, and instead...”
“Instead, we might be exactly what she needs,” Dominic finishes, surprising me with the gentleness in his voice.
Liam shifts on the other side of the daybed in the orgy room, propping himself up on one elbow. I’d thought he was sleeping, but his eyes are clear, focused. He’s been listening to every word.
“I don’t know about you two,” he says, “but I have every intention of claiming her for a year.”
My heart kicks against my ribs. “What?”
“Give her an escape,” Liam continues, his gaze dropping to Cora’s sleeping form in the center of the room. “Protect her from the monster we had intended to use her against.”
I let his words sink in, imagining what that would look like—the four of us, beyond these seventy-two hours. Beyond revenge. Something real.
“And how exactly would that work?” I ask, unable to keep the hint of hope from my voice. “We all move in together?”
The look Liam gives me makes my skin flush hot. There’s heat in his eyes as he says, “Yes. Exactly.”
“Where?” I press, trying to imagine the logistics. “My place is barely big enough for me.”
Dominic clears his throat, drawing both our attention. “I have the biggest place,” he says matter-of-factly. “And it’s centrally located.”
I nod slowly, picturing his waterfront penthouse with its floor-to-ceiling windows and multiple bedrooms that’s been featured in fucking magazines. “That’s true.”
“He does have the best place,” Liam agrees.
Dominic’s expression grows serious. “Then it’s settled. All of you move into my place.”
The simplicity of his declaration hits me square in the chest. Just like that—a decision that changes everything. Like placing the perfect bet and watching the dice roll your way.
I can’t stop staring at Cora’s sleeping form.
She’s completely out, utterly exhausted after everything we’ve put her through.
And fuck, what forty-seven hours it’s been—the three of us taking turns with her, then with each other when she needed breaks.
Sometimes one of us would tap out for a bit, grab water, or catch our breath, but mostly we’ve been insatiable.
I watch her, marveling at how peaceful she looks now. Hard to believe this is the same woman who was trembling with fear when I caught her the second time in the maze.
It’s a wild fucking thought—the three of us living together with Cora at Dominic’s place. I’m all in, but damn if I don’t wonder how that’ll work. The Hunt is one thing—seventy-two hours of pure adrenaline and sex and power games. But real life? That’s a whole different beast.
Dominic and his control-freak tendencies, needing everything exactly so. Liam with his mind games. And me? I’m chaos walking, always have been. I’ve never kept a consistent schedule in my life. I work when inspiration strikes, gamble when the odds feel right, sleep when I crash.
“You realize we’re going to drive each other insane,” I say quietly, still mindful of Cora sleeping mere feet away. “Dom’s going to lose his shit the first time I leave poker chips all over his designer coffee table.”
Liam smirks. “And when I leave case files spread across the kitchen counter.”
“I have a housekeeper,” Dominic says with that arrogant confidence that somehow manages to be reassuring. “And multiple bathrooms.”
“Not the point,” I counter. “This isn’t just about space. It’s about...fuck, I don’t know. Four people building something out of the most twisted beginning possible.”
My thoughts are interrupted as a woman in a sleek black uniform approaches our alcove, her face expressionless.
“Gentlemen,” she says in a clipped tone. “It’s time for the hunters to refresh. Showers and fresh clothing await you in the preparation rooms. The bathing ritual begins in one hour.”
Dominic nods. “We’ll be right there.”
The attendant’s words hang in the air, and I feel a strange resistance rising in my chest. This part is routine.
I’ve been through the Hunt ritual before.
We all have. The separation before the final claiming ceremony is standard procedure.
The women stay in the center of the orgy room while we hunters are escorted away to clean up to prepare for the final act.
So why the fuck does leaving her feel like ripping off a piece of myself?
I glance at Cora, noting the way her chest rises and falls in peaceful rhythm. The marks we left blend with her father’s cruelty on her skin—a fucked-up canvas of abuse.
“Ryder.” Dominic’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “We need to go.”
I nod mechanically but can’t tear my eyes away. “Yeah, I know.”
“You’ve done this before,” Liam says. “We all have.”
“I’m aware,” I mutter, forcing myself to stand. My muscles protest after hours of exertion. “Just feels different this time.”
And it does. Usually, by this point in the Hunt, I’m ready for a shower, ready to wash away the sweat and fluids, ready for the ceremonial aspects that close things out.
The women I’ve claimed in previous Hunts were conquests—fun for the event, sometimes fun for a few months after if I exercised my claim, but never anything that made my chest ache like this.
Dominic places a hand on my shoulder. “She’ll be taken care of. You know the protocol.”
“She’ll be at the baths once we’re done, ready for us to bathe her,” Liam adds.
I run a hand through my hair, frustrated by my own reaction. “I know how it works. I just—” I cut myself off, unable to verbalize what I’m feeling.
As we begin to walk away, I look back one more time at Cora lying in the center of the room. She’s curled into herself now, with one arm tucked under her head like a child. Vulnerable. Trusting. Even in her sleep, she looks fucking beautiful.
What started to hurt her father has transformed into a feeling that makes my chest feel tight, like I can’t get enough air. It makes me want to crawl back across the room, wrap myself around her, and tell anyone who tries to separate us to go fuck themselves.
“Ryder. Let’s go.” Dominic’s voice has that edge to it now.
I force myself to turn away, falling in step behind him and Liam.
The thing about gambling is you sometimes place a bet expecting one outcome and get blindsided by another. I came here thinking I was going to break this girl—instead, she’s somehow broken something in me.
And I’m not entirely sure I want it fixed.