Chapter 3

" R un, my sweet gazelle," I whisper, daring to look at her only for a moment.

She looks too fucking hot in that tight black dress, and the mask I had made for her looks absolutely perfect on her. I knew she'd wear black tonight. I've learned everything about her over the last year, and I had no doubt what she'd choose for the occasion. Every intricate detail of the mask was made with her in mind.

The metallic shine draws attention to her green eyes, contrasting against them to make them appear even more vibrant than they already are. Her plump lips are on full display just below the mask, perfectly available for drowning on my cock when I shove it down her pretty little throat.

Isabelle doesn't move. She's frozen in place, so I do what I have to do to get her running.

"RUN," I yell as I pull a blade from my back pocket, flipping it open as I advance toward her.

"Fuck! Okay!" she yells back, matching my volume. "I'm going!"

She turns to run, kicking off her heels as she begins the motions. Her head turns back toward me, and I see the fear in her eyes. It makes my cock that much harder. I'm already straining against my pants, but this has me ready to fucking explode without even touching her.

There's a short distance between the yard and the forest edge, but she clears it quickly. Her long brown hair flaps in the wind behind her as she sprints. Those gold bracelets she chose jingle with each stride, heightening my animalistic senses. Between her sweet perfume and the loud metal clanking together on her wrists, she won't be hard to find.

I count to thirty, giving her the head start I'd promised. Her bare feet smashing against fallen leaves grows more distant as she puts space between us. With each passing second, my cock grows thicker with anticipation for what it'll be rewarded with once I catch her.

"Thirty," I breathe through hushed lips, knowing she can't hear me. I'm astonished the night is finally here. The chase is beginning. Isabelle Garcia is going to be mine, and she better not fuck it up by failing my trials. We've both worked so hard for tonight.

I've spent countless hours following her every move, and she's spent nearly as much time preparing herself with personal trainers and self-defense coaches. She morphed herself into the prey I've always dreamt of. Pretty, fit, fast, and fucking sexy. The mouth on her also drives me wild. She's bolder than most, daring to say things others don't when she sees fit. It makes me think she'd give me a run for my money, and no one has ever come close to that. No one has ever been a more perfect match than my sweet gazelle.

Raising my voice, I can't help but smile widely as I shout, "Run, run, as fast as you can!" My voice trails off with a laugh.

I'll hunt her down, then make her choke on my cock.

Taking off in a sprint, I head in the direction she disappeared through the trees. She's probably shitting herself in the forest. It's dark, veiled from the moonlight by the dense trees. There are bears and mountain lions, but I'm the predator she should be afraid of tonight.

The lion will catch the gazelle, then feast upon her sweet flesh.

I can't wait to cut her skin, making her bleed crimson as I sink myself inside her. Killing her was my top priority until I studied her long enough to realize that she's absolute perfection. I'll kill her if I must, but I'd prefer to see her join me in The Exodus. The dark shit we could do together would be limitless. That wicked little personality could take us a lot of places. No one would suspect a girl like her could be turned into the deadliest weapon the society has ever seen, and that's exactly what I intend to do with her. She's already partially proven herself with her training. She's fast and strong, but so fucking intelligent. Not many people fight as smart as she does.

Entering the woods, I quickly catch her scent. It's intoxicating, giving me an immediate high. The forest floor is a mixture of moss, fallen leaves, and dirt. Not much grows here because the trees are so tightly packed that not much sunlight makes its way to the ground. The moss smells earthy and the air feels dry on my throat as I inhale, trying to breathe in every particle of her.

I've studied her long enough to know that she won't run straight for the lodge. She'll try to throw me off, taking a zig- zagged path through the thick trees. My cock pulses as I slow, opening my ears. This is what I've been dying to feel for months. The thrill of the hunt excites me, making me feel animalistic and primal to my core. My little gazelle can run faster than most, but she can't hide from me. She'll tire long before I do. My motivation is far stronger than hers.

I've abstained from torturing and killing anyone for well over a month in preparation for tonight. I've deprived my mind and body of the release I so desperately need to thrive. For me, clarity is found through bloodshed. Perhaps it seems sick, maybe even psychotic, but I truly believe I am at my best when there's fresh blood on my hands. Taking lives makes me feel powerful, like I'm a god who's been chosen to be judge, jury, and executioner. The Exodus chose my position based on my ability to be emotionless, and that's why Isabelle will fit perfectly at my side.

A deep laugh escapes my lips as I feel the adrenaline coursing through me, encouraging my cock to strain harder. "Run, run, my sweet gazelle," I call out, reminding her she belongs to me.

There's no response, but I know she's close. Her scent is still strong, so I continue. "You can run, but you cannot hide. Once I catch you, you're mine. "

Stopping, I listen for her. There's a squirrel in the distance, rustling leaves high up in the trees. Turning my head, I wait for her to move. She stopped running at some point. I'd hear the crack of twigs breaking if she'd continued, but the forest is silent.

An owl makes my head jerk as it flees from a tree branch not far away. Thirty yards, maybe. I begin unbuttoning my shirt, untucking it from my trousers as I take a step toward where the owl fled. I don't mask my stride as I walk. I want her to hear me coming. I need her to know she can't hide from me.

I'm fucking thirsty for blood. I can no longer control my ability to resist marking human flesh. She's going to bleed so beautifully for me when I slide my blade across her skin. And she'll love every second of the pain. I already know she's sopping fucking wet for my cock. She probably thinks I didn't notice when she pressed her thighs together, biting down on her bottom lip as I instilled fear within her. She's into it; I know she is.

She's as traumatized and fucked up as I am, but she doesn't know it yet. She hasn't admitted it to herself. She needs my help.

I stop ten feet short of the tree I suspect she's hiding behind.

"We both know you can do better than this," I confess, rubbing my fingers along my jawline.

Isabelle stays silent as I suspected her to. It's natural instinct to lay low, freezing in place and letting the predator pass, all the while praying you'll remain undetected. Unfortunately for her, she sprayed more than enough of that sweet fragrance all over her tight little body to last all night long.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I allow Isabelle to hear me inhaling her, devouring her scent. I want to make her uncomfortable. She's become far too content and at ease with my presence over the last few months. She needs a reminder of who I am and just how far I'll go to see her bleed.