Chapter 2

2

THUREL

T he sounds of snapping twigs and churning dirt fill the sudden quietness with an echoing harshness that does absolutely nothing to beat back the fierce nerves in my stomach. Taking off at full speed, causes my breathing to escalate from its usual steadiness to a throaty wheeze.

This is typically what happens when I start running without any form of breath control. It's stupid, a rookie mistake, and my years of football training have taught me better. But right now, all common sense seems to have left my mind.

Around me, other participants flutter away like injured birds, looking for cover in the countless shades of trees and shrubs.

I wonder what they're thinking.

That makes my entire body come to a staggering halt, as if someone has slammed on an invisible brake, allowing me to stop and process for a moment. Because frankly…I push a hand through my messy fringe and wipe the strands from my damp forehead. I'm sweating, my body already overheated due to stimulation. Yet I force out a chuckle. It sounds throaty and a little strained, but it's enough to make my muscles relax somewhat.

I need to get a grip on myself. Shake this tension off.

This whole chase is ridiculous, this whole show they've prepared. Their talk about France. Everything .

I stare at one of the rusty torches made into a beacon across the trail from me, the flicker of golden shadows doing absolutely nothing to kill this nagging feeling of trepidation, while I'm silently begging for my brain to finally kick in and tell me what to do.

I mean, I'm being chased in the forest of Monterrey Castle at night by a guy with a silver mask, a cloak and a fucking collar in his hands. That's got to be a joke, right?

You signed an NDA , my little devil reminds me.

"During the Chase, you may be subjected to physical violence-with no lasting injuries-as well as being drugged, tied up or even used for the brother's sexual pleasure. You agreed to this."

I did. Though I can't believe I let myself be so distracted from absorbing the actual text. I was too busy being too fucking thrilled to having received their invitation in the first place. Too busy making family members, who left my world a long time ago, proud. And yet the mere thought of them is enough to sober me up a little, for my heart to fill with something close to love and loss, a heavy bundle that always seems to come hand in hand.

It's a bundle that gives me wings.

Straightening myself, I tilt my gaze and look up at the stars. Whatever this is, I won't give up right at the start.

If they want a chase? I'll play.

And so I set an even pace, making sure to focus on my breathing this time as I follow the murky light further into the forest. It's not easy to maneuver freely in my school uniform, but I'll manage for the time being.

Besides, what is two hours?

One hundred and twenty minutes.

I'll manage.

But what about… No. I swallow away the bitterness at the thought of all the things I apparently consented to.

Physical violence.

Use of drugs.

Use of sex.

Use of rope.

They didn't mention anything about a collar. Fuck, now I think of that shiny choker again, that silver mask and those lips, curled up in mocking sneer. Who is that guy anyway? Is he someone I know?

The thought plants a seed in my mind. I can practically feel my brains curl around it as they flick through the pages of my time here at Saint-Laurent. I have never come across anyone like that in class, nor is he part of the football team. Surely I'd remember someone blessed with such beautifully curved lips, right?

"For fuck's sake, focus," I growl inwardly. "Think of home."

Home . Not the dorm I share with Xavier and Clément, but home home . Paris, Mamie , my real life. The existence I have dedicated myself to for as long as I can remember. I love my city, it's beauty and chaos, its cruelty and it's dynamic. Paris is history, culture and tumult, love and sorrow, it's my life.

The thought brings a slight smile to my cool cheeks, one that stays frozen the moment I hear someone let out a harsh cry. It's a carnal sound, filled with panic. I barely have time to stand still and focus before a howl follows, the reply a cruel sound as it resonates through the forest, overflowing the air with a chill that wasn't there before. The flutter of nerves is right back in the pit of my stomach, an aching tingle that won't go away.

Where did that sound come from? Was it behind me? I spin on my heels and stare into the faintly lit woods, heart ruffling in my ribcage, breath leaving my nose in rapid puffs. There's no one there.

What did the older man with the cane say at the end of his speech?

"Everything has been set up for our entertainment. And entertained we shall be ."

I touch the cool material of my phone in the pocket of my school jacket, then nearly jump when there's a distinct rustle through the shrubs next to me. Fuck, I didn't expect them to find me this fast. Still, I can't move, I'm dumbstruck as I watch the plants bristle with an urgency that can only be made by a human. Everything happens so fast, and I know I should run, because I need to?—

" Run !" A pair of hands shove the bushes wildly aside and the appearing participant almost slams into me in his haste to get away. The wild gaze in his eyes flicker, but I catch it nevertheless, because he pushes me aside in an attempt to escape. Turning over his shoulder, he gestures wildly with his arm.

"He's coming! Move!" Not waiting for me, he continues running, the soles of his shoes making a crunching sound on the trail ahead of us until his fading figure is nothing more than a darkening shadow in the faint light.

"Fuck them all. Screw your pride and stop this madness," I mutter to myself. Let's go home.

Suddenly, a horse emerges through the glooming dark. My eyes bulge in their sockets, because what the fuck's an actual horse doing here at this time of night? It's dark-coloured, like its rider, who's dressed in a black cloak, with dark boots and a glittering bronze mask. Appearing out of the obscurity, my eyes zoom in on the tool he's holding. It has three, long, slender ropes that are attached to a ball. He swings it wildly as he lets out another unhinged howl.

"No," I choke. "This, this…" And for the second time in less than half an hour, I turn and run. Only this time I'm hunted down by a horse and its crazed rider.

Tick tick tick.

Time moves swiftly, but I have lost my way.

"What the hell is this game they're playing?" I wheeze out of breath, because I can feel the nightmare behind me unfolding like a hazard, clean and fatal. Because the horse is getting closer.

I need to get off the path. Taking a sudden turn, I lose my balance and hit a tree. Wincing at the instant sting on my shoulder and chest, I don't miss how the horse is approaching faster, making panic rise until it bubbles right on the surface. Which is ridiculous, because this is just some frat game, it's not real, and it sure as fuck isn't funny anymore…I should just raise my hands and surrender. Fuck my pride.

I should.

Instead I throw myself in the bushes and hide flat on my stomach, my head ducked and my breathing raspy and distorted, ignoring the pain. And I wait. And watch.

I thought he would have disappeared by now, but to my utter surprise, the other participant hasn't left the sand path yet. I don't know what he's waiting for, but he's definitely too late now to avoid the horse and its rider who's now swinging the ropes, releasing that ball and, oh god…he's going to…

No ! The silent scream reverberates through my mind, but he doesn't hear me, the word never leaving my throat. Instead he watches over his shoulder at the exact moment the ball hits him square in his back. He tumbles forward with a cry and I dip my gaze for a beat, before I force my eyes to drag back up and see this for what it is.

"It's a game," I mumble. It's got to fucking be, but it doesn't fucking feel like a game. Further down the trail, the rider has now dismounted the horse and is looming over the fallen participant.

" Je suis désolé ," I mumble into the cool air to the guy I just met, the guy whose face I never saw.

I'm sorry.

Lingering in the grass, I try to ignore the whimpering sounds coming from the fallen guy further down the path, and wait for them to diminish, before I finally pick up my courage and strength, and get up. When I make it to the end of the path, I turn one final time over my shoulder and gaze toward the barely lit trail. They're gone.

Eliminated .

I wonder where the others are. My phone indicates it's now past half twelve in the morning. Ignoring the childish urge to phone Mamie , I push it back in my pocket.

One hour and twenty minutes left before this game is finished. That's roughly seventy five minutes. 4500 seconds.

I pick up my jogging pace once more and run further until the trail leaves me on a dead end with two sides to go. Left or right.

I once read in this study book that right-handed people tend to choose the right side unconsciously. It only takes me two puffs of air to go left. Fuck science.

There are even less lights here to guide me along. The path is more uneven too, and I have to catch my balance after falling over yet another stone or thick branch. A few times I swear I can hear the sound of a horse whinny. I'm losing my fucking mind. I don't know where I'm going anymore.

Tick tick tick.

"Seventy five, seventy four, seventy three—" I whisper to myself. The material of my cotton school pants feels rigid over my heating skin, creating the first layer of sweat on my legs. My forehead and cheeks feel hot and clammy, and I want to take my phone back out and use my flashlight instead, but I'm afraid the brightness will draw too much attention, which is entirely fucking ridiculous.

I come to a stuttering halt.

That's right. That is ridiculous.

What if no one else is around here? I turn my head to inspect the different corners of the dark woods. Apart from the gentle breeze rustling through the leaves, there's nothing here. No one.

I think of the painting above Papi 's chair back home, of how idyllic the castle looks like painted in oil paint.

Could this all be a prank?

The thought makes my brain tremble, visions of students mocking me because I fell for it. Perhaps this is the pledge. This…fake hunt. My fingers reach up and touch the silk material of the mask I'm still wearing. I'm not supposed to take it off, but the more I contemplate, the more I realize that yeah…it's very possible that this is all a joke. One I fell face flat in, like some wimp. Because…why? Because I want to make my grandma proud? Because I was determined enough to step out of my average-fucking-life and wanted to be someone? Is that why?

I huff out a chuckle. "You ass."

I take in a deep breath and eye the trail right in front of me. They've had their fun. It's time to go back and tell them all where they can shove it. Then I'll pick up my bag from my dorm and head to Paris for Spring Break.

And that…is the final thought I have before everything turns to shit.