Instead, I press the pen to paper and sign my name.
14
HUNTER
Iturn the skull mask over in my hands, tracing my fingers along its contours. The smooth, bone-white surface gleams under the light of my study. Perfect for tonight’s hunt. Not the Selection hunt that the others are expecting me to lead, but something far more personal.
“You’re really not joining us tonight?” Penn leans against my desk, arms crossed. “The candidates are expecting all five of us.”
“They’ll have to make do with four.” I place the mask in my bag alongside the other items I’ve prepared. Rope. A knife. A small first aid kit. Everything a proper hunter might need.
Grayson’s eyes narrow as he watches me pack. “The final phase is crucial. We need you there.”
“You’re more than capable of handling it without me.” I zip the bag closed with finality. “I have other plans.”
“Other plans?” Ari raises an eyebrow, his usual smooth demeanor tinged with surprise. “Tonight of all nights?”
I check my watch. Aurora’s head start has begun. My blood already pulses with anticipation, imagining her running through the darkened estate, heart racing, adrenaline flooding her system.
“I have a date with the woman next door.” I can’t help the smile that curls my lips.
“Next door?” Penn straightens. “You mean Aurora Harrison?”
I don’t answer, but my expression must confirm it.
“Fuck, Hunter.” Grayson shakes his head. “You’re engaged to her sister. Derek Harrison is one of the most powerful men in New York City.”
“And?” I shoulder my bag.
Ari steps forward. “This path you’re taking is reckless. Even for you.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.” I slip my phone into my pocket. “Handle the logistics tonight. Make sure the final five are ready for induction tomorrow.”
“Hunter—” Penn starts.
“It’s done.” My tone leaves no room for argument. “I’ve waited long enough for her.”
I leave my colleagues behind, their concerns fading with distance as I make my way through the trees toward the Harrison estate. The night air feels electric against my skin. Aurora had an hour’s head start, which is enough time to hide, to strategize, to let fear take hold.
Perfect.
The moon hangs low and full, casting long shadows across the manicured grounds. I move silently along the perimeter, every sense heightened. Hunting has always come naturally to me—in business, in pleasure. Tonight, the lines blur deliciously.
The Harrison mansion looms dark against the night sky. Not a single light shines from within its windows. Smart girl. Darkness is both shield and weapon, but she doesn’t realize I’ve spent my life mastering the shadows.
I circle the eastern wing, where the cliff drops away to the churning ocean below. My eyes adjust to the darkness, scanningfor movement, for the slightest disturbance in the natural order of things. For her.
Is she inside, hidden in some forgotten room? Or outside, crouched among the gardens, her breath held tight in her chest? The game thrills me because I don’t know.
I pause at the edge of the back gardens, listening. The waves crash below, wind rustles through leaves, but beneath it all, there’s nothing. No footsteps, no breathing, no telltale signs of panic.
Continuing my circuit around the property, I pass by the pool house, its glass walls reflecting moonlight. Empty. The boathouse at the edge of the property reveals nothing but shadows and silence.
I check my watch. The head start has ended, and I know she’s going to make me work for it. I smile in the darkness, appreciating her effort.
As I approach the west side of the house, a curtain in one of the downstairs windows moves just slightly.
Found you.
