Chapter 2

T here's a warm breeze drifting through the yard when my eyes finally land on him. Dressed in all black, he's hard to see through the shadows of the trees, but he's there. My heart drops into my stomach, and I can feel my pulse quicken. I swallow hard, trying to convince myself I've been training for this night for months. No matter what he throws at me, I'm more prepared now than ever. My chances of surviving the night are slim, but if I play it smart, I might just walk out alive.

He steps out from the trees and into the driveway, letting the moon light him from behind. His eyes are on me, more predatory and dark than I've ever seen. Greyson stands there, scanning my entire body as I rise from my spot on the cement staircase. Fixing my dress and flattening any wrinkles, I raise my eyes to his, holding his glare. I can feel my chest rising and falling faster than I want, but I can't get it under control. My breathing is too erratic, completely unstable as he takes a step toward me.

Greyson's stride is long and cool, like he's out for an evening walk and nothing more. But we both know that's not the case.

He's here for me.

Gathering the courage I desperately need, I straighten my back, beginning my descent down the staircase. My knees threaten to buckle, but I force myself to stay upright. He reaches the bottom before I do, resting his hands behind his back as he waits.

The yellow porch lights shine just bright enough to show me his face. It's hard and flat as he watches me, not giving off the slightest hint of emotion. Pursing my lips and ignoring how striking he looks in all black, I turn my focus to calming my nerves.

I need to stay in control. I can't fall apart now. The night is only beginning and it's too early to give him the satisfaction of my fear. I won't give him that satisfaction. Not yet.

Greyson clicks his tongue as I stop two steps short of the bottom, giving myself just enough height to stand face to face with him. He's so much larger than I am, and if I take those last two steps he'll be towering over me, dominating the entire space between us.

"Are you ready to play a game?" he asks, finally breaking our silence.

"That depends on what games you intend to play," I respond, scanning the sharp features of his face.

His hair is nearly black, styled to look slightly disheveled with a holding gel. His fancy gold watch reflects the porch lights, drawing my attention as he pulls his arms from behind his back. He's holding two masks, the first being an intricately sculpted face of a lion, painted a rich gold color. The other is a metallic black, but the face of a gazelle. My heart is pounding out of my chest, but I do my best to remain unphased. What do the masks mean?

Greyson's lips twitch upward as he extends the gazelle mask toward me. "You'll wear this tonight. The only time it leaves your face is when I remove it myself. Do you understand?"

I take it, nodding slightly, confused by his words. "Why a gazelle?"

His tongue flicks out, wetting his bottom lip as he takes a step back, allowing himself a moment to observe me standing before him. Holding up the lion mask, he lets it shine in the light. It's strikingly beautiful, sculpted so precisely it almost looks like it's from another world. Although, I suppose Greyson appears to be otherworldly, too handsome and dark to be from the same world I am. It suits him perfectly.

"When a lion requires a meal, he will hunt down a gazelle, then feast upon its flesh. There's a chase, a fight, and then bloodshed. That is how tonight will go, my sweet gazelle."

Goosebumps pimple along my skin, raising the tiny hairs as they travel down my spine. He's going to hunt me? Like, actually chase me?

"You're going to chase me?" I nearly laugh, not completely sure he's being serious.

His face does not waver. "Yes," he says flatly. "Your first trial is a chase. There will be two more after that. You decide whether you live or die tonight, Isabelle."

Furrowing my brows together, I use the tips of my fingers to feel the mask in my hands. The horns extending from the top of the mask are long, almost spike-like. They're sharp at the end, giving it the most fierce look. Greyson's mask is of another world, but this one... this one matches me. It's simple and not overly complicated, yet exceedingly lovely. It feels as though this mask is a portrayal of how he's seen me after all these months. These masks elevate not only our external features, but our personalities. I breathe deeply, realizing he possibly knows me better than I know myself.

Greyson Matthers is more than he appears. He's thoughtful and intuitive, even if it's in the oddest way I could imagine.

"You're not going to kill me?" I raise a brow, still confused. I thought the plan was to bring me to The Exodus to put an end to the Garcia lineage, but he's telling me I'm in control of whether or not I die tonight?

His face breaks for a moment, contemplating his answer, but he quickly smooths it out. "I will kill you if you refuse my trials."

Shaking my head, I say, "But no one gets away from The Exodus. I know how they work."

A small chuckle emerges from his throat. "I didn't say anything about letting you go. Pass my trials and join The Exodus, or die. The choice is yours."

"And if I refuse your trials? Right here, right now?"

Greyson's eyes darken, and he moves toward me, closing the distance between us. His musky scent immediately overwhelms me, sending a tingling sensation down my spine. He darts his hand out, moving it toward my throat. Those thick, rough fingers grab onto me, forcing my face upward to meet his glare. I instinctively press my thighs together, trying to relieve the sudden pulse between them.

"I've spent too much time watching you to just end it all right now. I've spent too much energy thinking about how every second of tonight is going to play out to let you choose death and fuck it all up. You're a fighter, Isabelle. Be that fighter tonight. Show me I made the right decision."

I don't say anything. My chest rises and falls rapidly as he forces me to stare at him. I don't know what to say. I'm too overwhelmed with him being so far into my personal space, taking up every corner of my mind. He's even more handsome up close. The faint lines in his face show a little bit of aging, but it's so fucking perfect. He's in his prime at thirty-three, six years older than I am. He's lived long enough and had enough experiences to be undeniably confident in the way he holds himself. In who he's become after all these years. The Exodus didn't ruin him when he joined, it just made him that much more godly.

His eyes soften slightly as he watches me, loosening his grip on my throat. Dragging his thumb down my jawline and then to my lower lip, he drags it downward, prying my lips apart. His breathing slows, then his eyes return to mine.

"Put the mask on," he says as he removes his hand, using it to slide his mask over his face. He's careful with his hair; he pulls the strap to the back of his head. It covers most of his face, but from the mouth down, he's exposed. "I'm rather hungry, Isabelle, and I'm growing impatient."

The way he says it has my knees ready to buckle again. There's an invisible surge in the air coursing between us as I swallow. The pulsing between my legs only quickens, getting harder to ignore. How fucked up am I to be this turned on when he's threatening to kill me if I don't comply with his demands?

Shaking my head, I try to brush off my thoughts, and then pull the gazelle mask over my face. It sits on my face just as his does. I'm completely hidden from the nose up, with the exception of my eyes, but the lower portion of my face isn't covered.

Greyson grins, reaching up to adjust the mask on my face. "It's perfect," he says as his lips part, exposing his perfectly white teeth. His canine teeth look extra sharp, making the mask that much more fitting.

He's the perfect predator, but I'm too foolish to feel afraid right now. I'm nearly too distracted by his commanding presence to notice the growing bulge in his black pants, but it's too large to miss. Greyson sees where my eyes have gone, and he reactively slips a hand behind my waist, pulling me into his body. His rock hard length presses into me, showing me just how big he is.

For a moment, I don't think he's going to pull away, like he's going to fuck me right here, right now. His eyes are so dark they're hard to get a good read on. The anger is easy to see, but they're also confused and conflicted as he stares down at me, holding me to him.

"You don't have to do this," I whisper, quietly pleading with him. "I won't say anything to anyone." My breath fans across his neck, making him roll his shoulders back as he fights to control himself.

Snapping his attention away from me, he pulls back, pointing in the direction of the forest which surrounds my home. "The lodge is a mile in that direction. I'll give you a head start."

My stomach tightens with his mood change and the news that I've unsuspectingly lived a mere mile from where The Exodus congregates. How could I miss this detail? "You want me to run?"

Greyson won't look at me. His face is set in the direction he's telling me to go. "You run as fast as you can. I'll hunt you down, and when I catch you, you're mine ." There's a predatory growl within his words, making me shiver.

"It's dark in there!" I snap, catching his attention once more. "There has to be another way."

"You'll do as you're told, or I'll kill you right now. Don't be a fucking idiot." There's no room for sympathy in his tone.

I fully believe him when he threatens to end me, and I can't say I blame him. My father tortured him, then forced him to watch as he did unspeakable things to his father.

An eye for an eye, and with my father no longer living…

I am the eye.