Chapter 4

4

THUREL

F or a while there's nothing else but the sound of my own steady puffs of air and the gentle rise and fall of my chest.

In. Out. In.

The forest is peaceful at last, the shrubs and trees blanketed in obscurity. It really is beautiful out here.

I guess I have never given the forest the attention it deserves. The land surrounding Monterrey Castle is so vast, its solid row of massive oaks clearly only the tip of the iceberg once you pass them and discover what's behind. Evergreens, large and proud, decorate the charcoal horizon. Shrubs, of various kinds, wave in between, as if gesturing to me, beckoning me to leave my safe haven against the tree, and follow them.

I don't. Encouraged by the silence, my eyes flutter closed. Fatigue lands over me like some warm blanket. The thought of home is soothing me, protecting me from my predicament. I can just stay here and wait for the remaining time to cradle me gently as it passes. My lips curl up at the thought. Yes, that would be nice.

When my eyes fly open with an intensity that makes them snap, I realize I must have dozed off at some stage. Darting around, I scan my surroundings, only to release a shuddering breath. It's still just me, together with the darkness and silence of the forest. My back feels strained against the hard surface from the tree trunk that still holds my slumped frame, and after I inwardly count to ten to gain some courage, I finally turn over my shoulder and gaze up at the dimly lit trail.

Who are you? I think of the other participant with his blond hair. Who were you that you felt so desperate to win tonight? If it was only to be part of the popular crowd, does that mean you didn't have any friends?

What does that make me? The trail is barely visible from my hiding spot, but I don't need sight anyway. My gaze has turned inward, scrutinizing my own behavior. Maybe I'm not here to win, but I didn't do a damn thing either to help both participants. Because of the rules of the game. I click my tongue. "Pathetic," I mutter.

But then, just as I drag my gaze back past the darkness, the hair on the back of my neck rises, and goosebumps dot my arms, accompanied by a nervous flutter in my stomach. What the—my breath catches in my throat when my widened eyes find the source of my building anxiety. There, barely ten meters away from me, he stands. Silver Mask. Watching me. The moment our eyes lock, he straightens his shoulders, pushing himself away from a tree.

When he takes a languid step forward, my insides tighten, back pressing further into the wood. I swallow, hands fisting as I prepare myself to make a run for it. He cocks his head, eyes flashing, and he tilts his head as if I'm some animal who's reaction he's trying to gauge.

The rope slides slowly between his fingers, revealing the collar once more. It shines in the darkness and I can't help but stare at it. Diamonds and leather. I can't see it clearly from this far, but my body's reaction is instant, betraying me, as a flutter tickles my insides and crawls from my chest to settle between my legs. Licking my lips, I realize I need to make a move unless I want to be eliminated.

Do I want to be eliminated?

Do I want to get fucked? My pants tighten, making me inwardly scowl at myself. The answer is no, thank you very much. I've never been fucked before. Yet I'm still here, my ass flat on the cold ground, my back plastered against the tree, my eyes transfixed on Silver Mask's long fingers. He takes another step, and I blink, my stare watching as those digits trace the fine jewels carved inside the darkened skin of the collar like a lovers' touch.

He takes another step forward and my breath hitches. He's too close.

Get up.

I finally move, digging my nails in the tree as I claw my way up and back on my feet, cursing at myself for taking too long. Our eyes meet, his nothing more than a shadowy haze from behind his camouflage.

And then he finally speaks.

" Montre-moi, mon ange ," he murmurs. His voice is surprisingly smooth, low with a hint of a rasp. This time it's my turn to tilt my head, heart beating fast in my chest as I flick through my memory. No, I don't think I've ever heard that voice.

"Show you what?" I ask.

His pillowy lips tick up, revealing a row of sharp, white teeth. He grabs the rope from the ground, using the material to make a loop the size of a neck. Of my neck. Horror grabs my insides, squeezing and clambering in its attempt to break free. It makes me feel light-headed and annoyed.

"Show me how fast you can run," he hums.

How fast I… I blink, annoyance slowly dissolving into anger. It seems that my brain is finally kicking in. Anger is easier. Anger takes care of all other emotions I can't place right now. Such as how my cock is half hard in my pants despite the promise of getting fucked for the very first time when he catches me. Anger is black. It doesn't allow any room for negotiation.

"And what if I tell you to go and fuck yourself?" I snarl. He licks his lips, then chuckles, the sound light and husky as it wavers my way.

"I was hoping you'd say that." He takes another step, and another one. The tree feels rough in my back, its texture no longer grounding but prickly and offensive as if it means to attack me from behind.

"So what's it going to be, ange ?" He places the collar in front of his own neck to imitate what will happen when he catches me.

"You—" I start, but suddenly his phone vibrates. Fishing it out of the pocket of his cloak, he holds up a finger against his lips, then presses the phone against his ear.

Run, god damn it. My feet won't move.

One of those flutter-inducing smirks curl his lips when he listens to whatever is said on the other side of the line.

"Alex just unwrapped his gift," he rumbles faintly. I'm not sure if these words are meant for my ears, but their meaning strike a chord. I think of the first participant I bumped into and how that stone hit him straight in his back and brought him to his knees. A bola , is what the blond participant had called it?

Run, god damn it. I run.

But this time there's no control in my rhythm, no steady heartbeat. This time it's uncontrolled and messy, and I am panting and wheezing even before my feet decide to abandon the trails all together and go completely freestyle through the shrubs. Sounds flood my way. Grunts and hisses, the slapping of skin against skin, and I squeak when I catch sight of a guy who's hanging in what I can only describe as a large spiderweb made of thread, as he gets pummeled from behind by Bronze Mask. How the fuck is that thread holding the guy up?

No fucking way.

Someone whistles behind me, but I don't turn around, don't want to get distracted. Don't want to be found . But I'm already too late.

A hand curls its way around my waist, pressing deeper until it's tightened itself like a fucking vice. "No!" I cry out. We go down, both of us, and panic clambers inside my system. Leaning forward, I try to steady myself on my flat hands in the ground, and the moment he lets go of my midriff, I start crawling away on all fours. An arm reaches over my shoulder, pulling me back with force. I cough and wheeze, eyes burning when I catch sight of the collar, dangling in front of my neck.

"No!" I let out again, pushing forward with all my strength, then kick up from the ground once more. The world is spinning, and I sure as fuck have stained my school uniform, but right now, I don't care.

Without wasting another second, I thrust forward, feeling only a little wobbly on my knees before I work back into a steady jog. Whoever is hidden behind that silver mask is fit as fuck, because he catches up with me once more before I can get to full speed, roaring as he chases me down. Fear creeps up inside me and I don't know where I'm going, too distracted by his presence. Too close, he's too fucking close.

He's chasing me, hollering after me, cornering me. If he manages to tackle me once more, he'll collar me. And then he'll fuck me.

This entire chase is a disaster. I should never have accepted that invitation. Should never have wanted to step up from being average. And why did I? Because I was curious about the secret frat organization that was supposedly housed in Monterrey Castle? Because I got the invitation and what…my ego was pumped? Was he the one who chose me?

Admit it , my little devil whispers. You wanted it.

You wanted more. More appreciation from your grandma. More admiration from the others. More respect from yourself.

I manage to create more distance between the two of us, but escaping him when he's this close to me won't be possible. So I do the one thing I probably shouldn't.

I stop all of a sudden and turn around, making him slam into me. He's heavier than I'd expected, but this time I'm prepared. Landing on the grass on my ass, I wait for him to crash onto me, before I wrestle him onto his back. His eyes widen in surprise when I straddle his thighs, and I raise my hand, jaw set and ready to attack…

Then I linger. "I've never hit a guy," I blurt out.

Silver Mask smirks at that and a dimple appears in his chin. It's enticing and I hate myself for noticing. Hate myself for even thinking of him that way.

"You want to give me your best shot?" He asks. There's that low rumble again. As if he's just messing with me. It's fucking infuriating.

"I do," is the only warning I give him, before I land a punch… in his palm. The fucker's reflex is on point. He presses his fist around mine, holding both our hands tightly in place mid-air.

We're left staring at each other. Tilting his head, he glances at me with that same curiosity as he did before, only this time I can see his eyes from up close. It's too dark outside to tell the color, but if I'd have to guess, I'd say that they are clear. Blue, or green perhaps.

"Now that you've missed your chance, I'm grabbing mine, Thurel," he rasps. My gaze widens at the sound of my name on his lips.

Are you the one who chose me?

He chuckles at my surprised gaze. "What, are you surprised I know your name?"

I tilt up my chin in defiance, furious and vulnerable at the same time. "No."

He snorts. "So sweet, Thurel. Even your lies are sweet." Grabbing the collar in one hand, he holds it up by its silky rope and lets it dangle right in front of my nose. "You like?"

"To be collared like some fucking animal by you?" I growl. "Fuck, no."

He barks out a laugh and leans in, using his other hand to grab me by my nape and pull me down. Up close, I can tell for sure that his eyes are clear. They are large, even behind the silver of his mask, its curvy lines teasing his sharp jaw in a way that makes it even more pointed. His nose is straight and long, practically touching mine now. And his scent... I breathe him in on one, deep inhale. He smells of sandalwood and some other spice.

My dick hardens as delicious flutters fill my stomach, and it's enough for my heart to thump faster. Panic kicks in and I push him down and scramble off of him. For a second he lies there, chuckling as his dark gaze flicks up at me. I swear I can feel it peeling my defenses away to catch my vulnerable predicament.

"I love to chase you, sweet Thurel," he mutters. "So let's extend our little game." Getting up from the ground, he turns to face me. "I'm going to count to ten."

"Fuck you," I grumble, "I'm not playing any games with you." He laughs my insult away, instead giving me a little push toward the shrubs. "You've got ten seconds, angel, before I come and hunt you down." He lets out a growl that vibrates through my own chest in a swirl of hot desire I've never felt before. "One."

Gritting my jaw, I hate the way my face flushes. "You can't possibly be serious."

He grins as he blows me a kiss. "Oh, I'm very serious. Two."

"I—" I protest, but words don't come.

Silver Mask gives me another gentle push. "Three—I'd run if I were you."

"But what about..."

"Four…"

"What will you do when you find me?" I ask, but I don't wait for his answer, instead turn on my heel and make a run for it, the cold leaves scraping against the delicate flesh of my cheek and neck as I make my way through the high weeds.

"Five, you better hide!" He sings behind me. My breath stutters when I reach an opening in the forest, the earthy, woody aromas revealing that there's some sort of a herbal garden close by.

"Six, keep on going."

"Fucking asshole," I mutter to myself, practically tripping over my own feet at the sudden change of scenery. The open green space leads to a sturdy mishmash of shrubs and trees, the weeds even higher than before.

"See-eeven!"

There are no more torches for guiding beacons here, my surroundings leaving me somehow trapped in an increasing feeling of trepidation. Fuck, I really don't want to be here anymore. I should just tell him that I surrender, that I have changed my mind. But admitting my defeat feels bitter after all the trouble I've already been through, and the mere hope that out there, high in the sky, Dad watches over me and can see me become a member of the elite group of Saint-Laurent… so sweet.

Oh so fucking sweet.

"Eight!" Silver mask hoots, his lower timbre sounding surprisingly light when he raises his voice, that smoothness sounding almost like a mockery. And perhaps it is exactly that, yet another twisted joke. Because through the bushes I catch sight of the faintest light, like a signal bewitching me. Finally giving in, I grab my phone from the pocket of my school jacket.

" Allez ," I encourage myself, before finally switching on the flashlight. I narrow my gaze when I catch sight of the dimmed perimeter of some building that comes into view with each approaching step. It's well hidden in the darkness, but thanks to my phone I can see clearly. My heart starts galloping faster, this time with hope.

Fuck, yes.

"Nine… nine-and-a-half…ten!" Silver mask zones in behind me. I've got no time to consider.

I'm out of time.

" J'arrive !"

"Fuck," I mutter, then start running again, body jerking uncontrollably at every suspicious sound coming from behind me. He's coming. A cracking twig, a bristle of leaves. My ears buzz so loudly, I'm surprised I can hear anything in the first place. It's making my head spin and my movements unchecked.

The shallow puffs of air clench high in my chest as a result of running too fast, too panicked, and not caring enough about my breathing.

Not giving a damn.

Because I need to get the fuck out of here and take cover.

It's a wooden cabin, I think when I approach it carefully. It's dark out here, apart from that single, dim light that comes from a lamp that hangs on the porch. The lantern. And no, it's not a cabin. They're stables.

I think of the guy on his horse from before. It's not safe here, but then… it might be my best option. On my tiptoes I step up and onto the porch, careful not to make a sound. The stalls smell like leather and manure, the scent somehow soothing. Yes, this will do.