Instead of cold stone, my palm presses against something that gives slightly—a hidden mechanism.
A grinding sound fills the air. Stone against stone, deep and mechanical.
The wall beside me begins to move, rotating slowly on a central axis. Before I can react, I’m pulled into darkness as the passage seals behind me, cutting me off from Mira completely.
I’m alone in the darkness, trapped in a predator’s game.
6
DOMINIC
Those thirty minutes of waiting were the sweetest kind of torture.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her once she entered the maze. The way Cora moved—hesitant yet determined, like a fawn stepping into a clearing—stirred something primal in me. The camera caught her profile as she whispered to her friend, revealing the slightest tremor in her bottom lip. A tell. A weakness I filed away.
Her fear was intoxicating—raw and honest in a way that political daughters’ smiles never are. The sudden darkness that enveloped her when the wall sealed behind her forced a soft curse from my lips. Not concern. Anticipation.
Now, ten minutes into the hunt, I stalk through the eastern corridor, moving silently. The maze’s ambient lighting casts long shadows that play across the ornate walls. I know exactly where she is—trapped in section 4B, a deliberate design feature that claims at least one prey each Hunt.
I check my watch. Liam should be circling from the north, Ryder from the west. Our strategy is simple: triangulate and close in. But I want to be the first to reach her. Need to be first. The thought of being the one to find her, disoriented and alonein the dark, sends a rush of heat straight to my already solid cock.
The corridor narrows as I approach her location. I hear her now—shallow, rapid breaths echoing through the enclosed space. The sound tugs at a very dark part of me. I slow my pace, savoring these final moments before contact.
My hand slides along the wall, finding the hidden latch that will open the sealed passage. One firm press and the barrier will rotate, revealing little Cora Pike in her hiding place.
I pause, imagining her expression when she sees me. Will she recognize me from our brief collision outside Xavier’s office? Will she understand what’s coming?
The thought makes my cock throb against the constraints of my tailored pants. I press the latch.
The wall rotates with a whisper of well-oiled mechanics. I expect fear—the wide-eyed panic of prey caught in a corner—but what I see stops me in my tracks.
Cora Pike stands in the center of the small chamber, chest rising and falling rapidly, but her posture is defiant. The fear hasn’t broken her. If anything, it’s crystallized something in her eyes—something harder than I anticipated.
“Are you done hiding in the dark?” I ask.
Her chin lifts. “I wasn’t hiding. I was trapped.”
That voice—cultured, controlled despite the circumstances. Mayor Pike trained his daughter well for political life. Too bad he couldn’t teach her to avoid situations like this.
I step inside, letting the wall seal behind me. The space shrinks immediately, forcing her to back against the far wall. Now I see what I was looking for—that flicker of fear as she realizes I’m a predator.
“Dominic Vega,” I offer, not extending my hand. “We almost collided the other day.”
Recognition dawns in her eyes. “Outside Xavier’s office.”
“Very good.” I observe her, taking in the sight of her. The gray dress they provided Cora clings to her curves, basically scraps that cover nothing. “You’re observant. That might serve you well over the next seventy-two hours.”
“Are you threatening me?”
I laugh softly. “No, Ms. Pike. I’m hunting you.” I reach out, brushing a finger along her jawline where a faint bruise lingers. She flinches but doesn’t retreat. “Though it seems I’m not the first man who will leave his mark on you this week.”
Her breath catches, but something unexpected flashes in her eyes—not just fear, but anger. Interesting.
“Fuck off.” Her voice is sharp, cutting through the small space between us. “Don’t touch me again.”
I raise an eyebrow, amused rather than offended. Most women who find themselves trapped with me are quick to placate, to appease. This defiance is... refreshing.
“Your father didn’t teach you better manners?” I step closer, crowding her space. “That surprises me. William Pike seems like the type of man who demands perfection from his possessions—especially his only daughter.”
