Sting's Catch

I survived the Hunt.

Well, I Iost it. Technically. But I did survive it.

Now I’m a Runt. Got claimed by three men in skeleton masks who decided I was worth keeping and wrote my name in a ledger that doesn’t erase.

Now I live inside a dead mall with the men who own me. And the problem — the real problem — is that I don’t want to leave.

Turns out I have a mask kink. And an audience kink. And apparently a thing for dangerous men who back me against walls and tell me exactly what they’re going to do before they do it.

I didn’t know any of that before the Rot. I know all of it now.

But desire isn’t the same as trust. And trust is what I need from three men who believe my father was guilty — that the mayor of Rothwell got exactly what he deserved when this city fell.

They’re wrong. And I’m going to prove it.

One mask at a time.