I hold his gaze, then pump my brows suggestively. “It means you can own me a little if you want.”
Something changes in his demeanor then. The playfulness vanishes, replaced by something darker, more intense. “Is that what you want?”
I nod slowly, convincing myself while I try to persuade him.
His eyes harden, and when he speaks again, his voice is dangerously soft.
“Run.”
I blink, not sure I heard him correctly. “What?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of handcuffs that glint in the candlelight. “I said run, Sora. Because if I catchyou, I’ll actually own your ass and do whatever the hell I want to you.”
A thrill shoots through me, part fear, part anticipation. “Are you kidding?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” His face is deadly serious. “You have a thirty-second head start. I suggest you use it wisely.”
Something clicks in my brain, and suddenly dark romance makes more sense. It’s not about the horror or the fear—it’s about the edge. The suspense. The delicious uncertainty of being pursued by someone who awakens both your flight and your fight responses simultaneously.
I don’t need to be told twice. I bolt for the door, excitement surging through my veins as I sprint down the corridor, through the foyer, and out the front door into the cool night air. Behind me, I can hear Forrest counting loudly.
“Twenty-eight…twenty-nine…thirty. And now you’re mine, cookie girl.”
The grounds outside the mansion include a sprawling garden and, beyond that, a small wooded area. I head for the trees, heart pounding in my ears, a ridiculous smile plastered across my face despite my breathlessness. He’s unhinged. This is thrilling. This is the most alive I’ve felt in years.
The night air is crisp against my flushed skin, carrying the scent of damp earth. My exhales are visible puffs, clouds of vapor betraying my location. Not to mention I’m breathing loudly enough he could hear me over a parade.
I duck behind a wide oak tree, clamping my hand over my mouth as I inhale through my nose. The rough bark presses against my back, tiny pieces flaking off and catching in my hair. My pulse is thick in my throat, a rapid staccato beating in time with the distant sound of what might be footsteps—or just my imagination.
In the distance, I can hear Forrest calling my name, his voice carrying through the night.
“Sora…where are you hiding?” His tone is playful but cut with something primal. “Bet you’re tired, baby. Is it time to stop running and face your fate?”
The forest floor is carpeted with fallen leaves that crunch beneath my feet, no matter how carefully I try to step. Each sound seems amplified in the quiet darkness, announcing my position like a beacon. The temperature has dropped further, and goose bumps pebble across my arms—not just from the cold, but from my twisted eagerness to be found.
I peer around the tree trunk, trying to spot him. Nothing. I decide to make a break for a denser patch of woods to my right, but as I step out from my hiding place, a twig snaps under my foot.
“Got you.”
Forrest appears seemingly from nowhere, his hand clamping around my wrist like a bear trap. His eyes glint in the moonlight, predatory and fierce.
“That wasn’t much of a chase,” I manage to say, my breath coming out in short pants again, now for a different reason.
“You were never going to outrun me.” He tugs me closer, his free hand still clutching the handcuffs. “That was never the point.”
“What was the point, then?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
“The hunt.” His gaze descends to my lips. “And the capture.”
He backs me up against the oak tree, one hand pinning my wrists above my head, the other cupping my face. “Is this what you want? To be shown you’re mine?”
The weight of the question hovers between us. This isn’t part of the game anymore. This is real.
“Yes,” I whisper, surprised by my own boldness. “I want to be yours.Only yours.”
“Good girl. Don’t ever do that again. If I catch another man kissing any part of you, I’ll rip his lips right off. You got it?” Something flares in his eyes—desire, possession, need. I think he’s acting, but I wouldn’t mind if it were real.
I nod, unable to find my voice.
