“Don’t I?” His smile is predatory. “I see the darkness in you, Aurora. The same darkness I recognized that day on the cliff. You weren’t just trying to understand your father’s suicide, you were feeling the pull yourself.”
I suck in a breath. No one has ever seen through me like this.
“Tonight is about testing limits.” His hand slides down my throat to rest at the hollow of my collarbone. “What we do is sick and depraved by society’s standards. Men hunting men. The final test of worthiness.”
“Hunting?” The word barely escapes my lips.
“The candidates who survive become part of something greater than themselves.” His fingers trace patterns on my skin. “People who’ve wronged us, betrayed us. They serve a purpose in the end.”
Horror mingles with a forbidden curiosity I can’t suppress. “You’re talking about killing people.”
“I’m talking about justice.” His lips brush my ear. “But I’m offering you something different. A hunt where you’re the prey.”
My breath catches. “What?”
“Sign the NDA. Stay on your property tonight. I’ll give you a head start—one hour to hide anywhere on these grounds.” His eyes gleam with dark promise. “And then I’ll come find you.”
“And when you find me?” I shouldn’t be asking. I shouldn’t want to know.
“Then I claim my prize.” His hand slides to my waist, gripping possessively. “And I promise, Aurora, you’ll enjoy every second of surrendering to me.”
I hate that his words make heat pool between my thighs. Hate that he sees the part of me I’ve tried so desperately to bury. A piece of me that craves the edge of danger, that wants to be taken and claimed.
“You’re sick,” I whisper.
“Maybe.” His smile widens. “But so are you. That’s why we’re perfect for each other.”
Hunter reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out an official-looking document, holding it up between us. “So what’s it going to be, Aurora? Will you sign the NDA or not?”
I stare at the paper, my mouth suddenly dry. “You just happen to have that with you?”
“I’m always prepared.” His lips curve into that arrogant smile that makes my stomach flip.
“Why would you carry an NDA around? Do you make a habit of forcing women to sign legal documents?”
Hunter’s eyes darken. “Trust me when I say you don’t want to know.”
I swallow hard, reaching for the document with trembling fingers. My eyes scan over the legal jargon—confidentiality clauses, non-disclosure requirements, severe penalties for breaches. This is madness. I should throw it back in his face and walk out.
But I don’t.
“Do you have a pen?” I hear myself asking.
Hunter studies me for a long moment, as if seeing something in me I’ve tried to hide from everyone else. “You surprise me. Most people would be running by now.”
“Maybe I’m not most people.”
“No,” he says softly, pulling a sleek black pen from his inner pocket. “You’re not.”
The weight of the pen feels significant in my hand, like I’m about to sign away more than just my silence. I hesitate, pen hovering above the signature line.
“Having second thoughts?” Hunter challenges.
“A million of them.” I meet his gaze. “But you are right about me. The darkness you saw in me that day on the cliff... It’s real.”
Hunter’s expression shifts, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “We recognize our own kind.”
Something about his words resonates in a place I’ve kept locked away. The truth is, I’ve always felt different, always sensed a shadow inside me that normal people don’t possess. The proper thing would be to walk away, to run from whatever twisted game he’s proposing.
