17. Aaron
CHAPTER 17
AARON
W hen I tell you I slipped into another version of myself, into a mindset I didn’t even know existed, I’m not exaggerating. I barely recognized who I became in that last hour, but whatever it was, I need more of it.
The way Tristan controlled me while I dominated Selene—it was beyond anything I’d ever experienced. I wasn’t just giving in; I was relinquishing control to something far bigger than myself, a force that stripped me down and reshaped me right in that moment. Part of me wanted to fight it, to claw back some semblance of power. But the strangest part? I enjoyed every second of it.
I loosened Selene’s ties one by one, though I couldn’t resist readjusting some just to leave more marks on her skin. It was intoxicating—the way her body resisted, the redness flaring where the rope bit into her, even the small cuts forming. It just made me want her more, seeing the pain points on her body like that made me want to brand myself onto her. I wouldn’t actually do that, given the rules of this game…but fuck, I wanted to.
What happened back there pulled me so far into the moment that, for a while, everything else vanished. The memory of the mystery blonde—the killer—faded into the background. The deal that brought us here, the reasons Dom and I stayed, all of it seemed distant and irrelevant. Even the tension between Dom and me no longer mattered.
Just the three of us.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, my mind went completely blank. I slipped into a different world—one where nothing existed but the here and now. The weight of everything I was running from, the chaos, the secrets—gone. It was like falling into a dream, and I didn’t want to wake up.
Tristan and I ravaged Selene—there’s no other word for it. But the real surprise wasn’t just in what we did to her; it was in what he did to me. He took control, commanded me in ways I wasn’t prepared for. He made me bend, follow his lead, and somehow, I didn’t resist. I let him take over, let him pull the strings while I unleashed everything on her. And the truth? I needed it. The rush that came from surrendering…it made everything more intense. In a world where I have to be in control every second of my life, this was a release I didn’t even know I craved.
It was the first time I’d ever let anyone do that.
And I’m not sure it’ll be the last.
It has to be. This was a one time thing.
Taking a deep breath, I try to come back to the current moment. Staring down at Selene’s perfectly bruised body covered in our semen. Even though I don’t have any energy left in me, I’m enjoying watching Tristan swirl the mixture of us up her chest, drawing it to her chin and pressing his fingers into her waiting mouth.
I’m getting hard again.
“Fucking hell, you two need to stop.”
Tristan smirks, shaking his head slowly while keeping his eyes on Selene, as if I’m not lying right beside them.
“Not until she licks up every last drop.”
A door slams shut, snapping me back to reality. My pulse quickens as the memory surfaces—Dominik. He’d been there the entire time, watching from the shadows. Witnessing everything without ever stepping in. The thought unsettles me now, knowing he stayed just on the edge, close enough to see but never to join. Detached and unfazed.
“He never left,” Selene murmurs.
Her words send a ripple of unease through me.
“You saw him? While the three of us were…” I trail off, my gaze switching between her and Tristan.
Tristan arches a brow, amused. “Yeah, he was leaning against the tree. How the hell did you miss that?”
Selene giggles. “Because he was way too busy with us to notice anything else.”
I fumble into my pants, hastily yanking up the zipper as I stumble toward the door, barely managing a frantic run-hop to catch up to Dom. I shove through the back exit—the same one Tristan and I slipped through earlier—the massive hall looms before me, dark and still. Dominik is already more than halfway across, moving quickly, his figure almost a shadow as he strides toward the far door.
No way I’m catching him, barefoot and scrambling like this. I feel sick, wondering what must be going through his head if he’s in such a rush to get away from us…from me.
“Dom, wait up!” I call out.
He turns, his mask still over his face, an impenetrable barrier hiding any trace of emotion. He walks backward, his eyes clearly on me as he pushes through the door, slipping out without a word, like a shadow disappearing into the night.
Mother fucker.
There’s another exit to my right, across the room. If I move fast enough, I might catch him before he slips away for good. We need to talk about what just went down. I can’t let it fester between us—it’ll gnaw at me until there’s nothing left.
My heart thumps loudly as I bolt for the door.
Relief floods me when it swings open, revealing the cold pavement outside. The moon casts an unsettling glow over the lifeless rides and barren pathways.
There is no sign of Dominik though.
No movement. No shadows.
Nothing.
An eerie stillness hangs in the air, as if someone’s watching me. But every direction I turn is swallowed by shadows. Perfect timing for my mind to start playing tricks.
Dominik couldn’t have disappeared that quickly. He’s probably hiding, waiting for me to retreat so he can make his own way out of this nightmare. But what if he doesn’t? What if he tells someone about this? My parents. My sister. Everyone we know.
He wouldn’t. Dom and I share too many secrets—this is just one more to add to the list.
Are you sure about that?
Anxiety crawls up my spine as I round another corner, only to be greeted by more emptiness. The amusement park is a twisted labyrinth, its paths indistinguishable, each turn mocking me with its sameness. My frustration grows with each passing second.
Then I hear it—faint footsteps cutting through the dark silence. They’re distant but deliberate, pulling me deeper into this ghostly maze.
I slow, straining to hear as the footsteps stop abruptly. My body tenses, the hairs on my arms prickling with unease.
Something’s wrong.
The air feels charged, as if I’ve walked straight into a trap. But it’s too late to turn back now.
“Dominik,” I breathe out, barely whispering and praying he answers back. Instead, the silence presses back.
This is fucking stupid. I should turn around.
But the moment I do, my body seizes, every muscle locking tight as a figure steps out from the shadows.
It’s her—the murderer from the room.
Her hair is different now, a long, crimson wig cascading down her back like a blood-soaked veil. The moonlight grazes her cheek, highlighting the hungry expression she wears. Her eyes gleam with dark intent, and it’s clear—she’s already decided I’m next.
Terror surges through me, rooting me in place. My mask is gone. I’m exposed. She can see me—all of me.
Fuck .
My heart pounds so loudly it echoes in my ears. Surely she can hear it too, but she doesn’t move. She just stands there, her eyes drilling into me, unblinking and unnervingly still. The weight of her gaze presses down on me, a silent threat that tightens like a noose.
I don’t care about the room. The blood. The body. Whether it was real or some grotesque illusion. None of it matters now. All that matters is that I accidentally discovered her secret—a secret I want no part of.
Her head tilts slowly, lips curling into an eerie smile.
“Miss me?”
“I’m sorry. You must have me confused with someone else,” I rasp, though my voice betrays me.
She steps closer, deliberate and slow. “Where is your wolf mask?”
“Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about. People mix things up here all the time. It’s a wild place,” I say, surprisingly calm this time.
The familiar scent of leather and perfume hits me—her unsettling signature smell I wish I could forget.
“You saw something you shouldn’t have.” Her voice is soft but laced with an unspoken threat. Her eyes lock onto mine, unwavering and sharp, stripping me bare in a way that feels more dangerous than her words.
She’s seen me—really seen me. And now I’m trapped in her twisted nightmare.
Either I take care of this problem, or she takes care of me.
“What do you want?” The words feel heavy on my tongue.
Her expression shifts, as if she’s entertaining a thought too crazy to say aloud. Then, the corner of her mouth curves upward. “I think I want you.”
Want me for what? To play with? To destroy? To turn me into something I can’t take back?
“I don’t want anything to do with you.”
She steps closer, her blue contacts pinning me in place like a predator to its prey.
“You weren’t supposed to be in that room. You weren’t supposed to see me or witness what happened but you did,” she whispers, her voice like velvet laced with danger. “And now, we have unfinished business.”
My pulse hammers in my ears. If she were an animal she would smell the fear coming out of my pores.
“We don’t have any business actually. And trust me, you don’t want to be anywhere near my circle. So run along before I change my mind,” I say, though the words feel weak, more like a plea than a threat.
I’m not in control here.
Not anymore.
She laughs, the sound low and cold, echoing through the woods. “Is that a threat?”
“No. Just a suggestion.”
She scoffs. “I think I’ll take my chances.”
Another step closer. One more and I could probably strangle her before she has a chance to react. Maybe I can buy some time, lure her to come closer.
“I didn’t enter that room on purpose. The door was unlocked and I was looking for…someone.”
She clicks her tongue against her mouth, briefly looking down at her red nails. “Yes, a slight oversight on my end. I meant to lock it.”
“Oh well. It doesn’t matter.”
The distance between us disappears in a heartbeat. I don’t even register her moving, but suddenly, she’s there—too close—her breath warm against my neck. My muscles tense, every instinct firing off at once, urging me to act, to take control, but I don’t move. Not yet.
It’s not her strength that has me frozen. It’s her unpredictability. There’s a storm behind those eyes and I can’t see where it’s headed. She’s a loaded weapon without a safety, and I have no idea if I’m the target or just in the way.
I force myself to stand tall, to keep my shoulders square, even as my pulse pounds in my ears. She’s not just close—she’s inside my head, stealing the air, making it impossible to think clearly.
“It does matter,” she whispers, her voice cutting through me like a blade. “You’re mine now, until I figure out what to do with you.”
There’s a flash—a metallic glint catches the dim light before the cold edge of the blade presses against my bare chest.
Right over my heart.
My breath stutters, panic clawing at my throat, but I shove it down, forcing myself to stay present. She’s testing me, playing with me, like a cat with a mouse. I can’t let her win, can’t let her see how close I am to unraveling.
I need to turn this around.
“Do you even know who I am?” My voice is steady, low, as I grip the hand holding the knife, my fingers curling tight until the blade digs into my skin. The sting fuels me, a sharp reminder to stay focused.
“Not yet.” She smiles, completely unshaken, like she’s enjoying this far too much.
She’s a goddamn psychopath.
“I’m a powerful person, which means I know a lot of powerful people. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
She narrows her eyes, the edges of her wig slipping, exposing strands of blonde hair beneath. “I know a lot of powerful people, too.”
Despite the suffocating fear crawling up my throat, I step closer, meeting her head-on. “I’m going to ask you one last time. What do you want for my silence?”
“Why wouldn’t you expose me?”
“Because I don’t give a damn about you or whatever fucked up game you’re playing.”
“You don’t care about being a good person?”
My pulse quickens. What is this? Some kind of psychotic test? I don’t know what kind of game this bitch is playing, but I’m two seconds away from turning the knife and twisting it in her throat.
“I’m not a good person,” I spit out, the words biting, hollow. “And I’m not afraid to hurt you.”
She studies me, as if she’s peeling back layers of my soul, searching for something buried deep. Then, without a word, she exhales and lowers the knife. My fingers relax instinctively, but the reprieve is short-lived. With a flick of her wrist, she tosses the blade into the air. Instinct takes over—I snatch it mid-flight, the cold steel biting into my palm as my breath hitches.
Her chilling laugh cuts through the tension. “I don’t know what I want from you yet,” she whispers, her voice laced with dark promise. Her eyes gleam with danger, like she’s already decided I’m her next game. “But trust me… you’ll find out soon enough.”
Before I can respond, she melts into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as she arrived. The knife feels heavier now, impossibly so, as if it carries all the weight of what she’s left behind. My chest tightens as I stare down at the weapon.
And then it hits me.
My fingerprints. All over a murderer’s blade. One she’s likely used in the past to kill people with.
The realization slams into me like a freight train. I drop the knife as though it’s scalding hot, my mind racing. Panic surges, but I force myself to crouch down, grabbing the blade again. Wiping it hastily against my pants, I struggle to think clearly.
This can’t be happening.
Go back. Tell Tristan. He’d know what to do. Call Dominik.
I can’t. Tristan wouldn’t understand and I don’t trust him enough for this. And Dominik—where the hell was he? If he’d seen any of this, he would’ve charged in, wouldn’t he? My mind races, chaotic flashes of worst-case scenarios filling the void. Too many endings, and none of them are good.
I don’t know how long I stand there, frozen in place, before the shaking begins. It starts small—a tremor in my hands—but soon, it takes over, rippling through me in uncontrollable waves. The weight of the knife, the shadows, her laugh—it all presses down, suffocating.
Move .
My mind screams at me to do something. Anything.
I force my legs to carry me back through the night, each step heavier than the last. The darkness feels alive, swallowing every sound except the pounding of my heart. Every shadow seems to shift, every gust of wind feels like her breath on my neck.
Then, my phone buzzes.
The vibration jolts through my pocket like a live wire. My hands fumble, slick with sweat, as I pull it out. The screen glows in the dark.
Unknown Number.
I hesitate for a second, my thumb hovering over the notification. I thought my phone was turned off. Is it because I’m outside? The weight in my chest is unbearable, everything inside me is screaming for me to ignore the message but I can’t.
I click open the message.
Three words.
See you soon.
My breath catches, a sharp, jagged inhale. The phone slips from my grip, tumbling to the ground, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the glowing text.
She’s watching.
And I have no idea where or when the next move will come from.
To be continued…