2. Fiora

There's a secret on Heathens Hollow.

A truth.

The haze, the fog, and the suffocating gloom does everyone a favor.

The thickness of it all silences the noise.

Poison thoughts used to rattle my brain until I moved to this island.

I used to be so cold, numb, frigid. I felt nothing until I participated in The Hunt. Last night, the blood in my veins flowed as the masked man hunted me through the mossy, mist-shrouded forest.

I want it again and again. No matter the cost.

Getting out of bed, I instantly notice my pussy aches from last night. Grimacing as I peel back the sheet, I know that my body will crave those feelings of intensity and vulnerability before I even recover fully. It doesn't matter how terrified I was last night as the stranger fucked me harder than I had ever been fucked before.

As the sky outside begins to lighten with the approach of day, I stare at the window, wrestling with my thoughts.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Why would I do this?

What sane woman would consent to this?

But The Hunt has awakened something within me, a ferocity that has lain dormant for so long, and I couldn't resist then just as I'm not sure I can resist in the future.

I dress quickly, wrapping my robe tightly against the cold morning air that seeps into my small cottage. The ache in my pussy only grows as the robe touches the sensitive skin, reminding me of the entirety of my experience the night before. My thoughts swirl with the possibility of doing The Hunt again tonight, despite the fear and uncertainty that has haunted me the entire time.

As I venture out into the morning fog to check the front porch for my basket of goodies left behind as my reward from the hunter, I try to push back the feelings of selling my body for the items of luxury that will no doubt be left for me. On the porch, a small wicker basket tied with a red ribbon waits. Curiosity piqued, I hurry back inside and into the warmth of my cottage.

Within the small wicker basket, glinting in the early morning light, is a beautiful ruby necklace resting in a black velvet box. The ruby is deep and vibrant, the color of freshly spilled blood. A fitting gift considering my hunter practically fed off me last night like a vampire would his prey. There are other gifts as well—an envelope full of hundred-dollar bills, an expensive bottle of wine, a pair of Prada sunglasses, and a gift certificate to the local spa on Heathens Hollow for a full day of pampering with whatever services I desire.

Some women would say the basket of wealth is the reason for participating in The Hunt. And, though I certainly appreciate the gifts that play a big part in the reason I continue, there is more to it. The thrill of the hunt, the adrenaline rushing through every inch of my body, and the feeling of being completely vulnerable yet powerful simultaneously, is what keeps drawing me back.

I can forget about everything and everyone. That is the reason I came to Heathens Hollow to begin with.

My phone rings, breaking me out of my thoughts. I don't need to look to know it's Storee calling. Other than the catering company owner I work for, who wouldn't be calling me this early anyway, she's the only person who has this number.

I also know why she's calling.

"You did The Hunt last night, didn't you?" she says the instant I answer.

I sigh, knowing there is no point in lying. "Yes, I did."

There's silence on the other end of the line, and I can almost feel her eyes boring into me through the phone. "I thought so." Disapproval tinges her voice. "I know I have no place to talk since I did it, too, but it's dangerous. I got hurt the last time I?—"

"I'm being careful," I say, "and besides, not everyone can find true love like you did. I need something to keep me busy while you're off playing house with Locke."

Storee is quiet for a moment. "Well, did you at least get a good basket? Was it worth it?"

I let out a small laugh. "Always." Another silence stretches out before I add, "I miss you."

"I know. I miss you, too. I've been so busy with the opening of the gallery and with Locke—but… come to The Vault tonight. Meet me there."

"What? Really? The Vault!"

"Yes, really," Storee insists. "Locke said I could come with him tonight, and I'll make sure your name is on the list so there are no issues getting inside."

"Are you sure? The last time we snuck into The Vault, I thought Locke banned us?"

"I'm sure. He's softening… sort of," she says with a chuckle.

The Vault is one of the most exclusive sex clubs on the West Coast, and getting in is nearly impossible without connections. But I suppose being best friends with the girlfriend of one of the owners puts me in the connected category now.

I smile to myself, excitement bubbling up inside me at the prospect of a night out at The Vault. "Okay, I'll be there. Thanks for thinking of me."

After hanging up, I pour myself a glass of the expensive wine from the basket and settle onto the couch. It's five o'clock somewhere, after all, and I earned the drink after last night. Despite the lingering ache between my thighs, a sense of contentment washes over me. The thrill of The Hunt still lurks inside me, that delicious combination of fear and power. Not to mention doing something that would give my father a fucking stroke.

I know the dangers, of course. Storee's warning echoes in my mind. But something primal awoke within me last night, a fierce need to surrender control while also seizing it for myself. It's intoxicating in a way I can't quite explain.

As I sip the rich wine, I replay the previous night's events. The way the hunter stalked me through the dense forest, his hungry gaze raking over my body. The pounding of my heart when he finally struck, tackling me to the mossy ground. The thrill of struggling against his weight, knowing escape was futile. And then, the blazing pleasure-pain as he claimed me, taking what he wanted with a forcefulness that should have repulsed me but instead ignited a fire low in my belly.

I squeeze my thighs together, the ache intensifying as memories flood my mind. Part of me can't wait for tonight's hunt which I know deep down I can't resist. Another part wonders if this newfound hunger will ever be sated.

One thing is certain—after sampling the forbidden fruit of submission and dominance, I can never go back to my old, boring life. The woman I was is gone. In her place is someone brutally awakened, something beyond the norm. Beyond the expected. I can't be black and white. I can't go back.

I can't be her.

Rules. Structure. Orderly compliance. Living the life of a robot.

Hollow.

There is a reason I left. And yes, I miss certain people, but I needed to get away. I needed to breathe. To be me. To find out who me really is.