Page 35 of Doomed (Blackwood Brothers #2)

BIANCA

I slide off Knox’s lap on trembling legs, humming with aftershocks of ecstasy. I’d performed for an audience of Ravenwood’s elite—riding Knox while people watched, getting aroused by their stares. The memory should fill me with shame, but instead, a delicious thrill runs through me.

What has Knox done to me? Two days ago, I would’ve died before letting someone watch me like that. Now I’m disappointed it’s over.

“Time to go, princess.” Knox’s voice is rough as he adjusts himself. “The feast is finished.”

I glance around the room, taking in the disheveled state of the other women.

Mira looks dazed as Xavier helps her to her feet.

Cora is sprawled across three men’s laps, despite the emotional trauma of her father walking in initially.

Lia and Sadie appear equally shaken, leaning against their hunters for support.

A woman in a black dress appears at my side. “This way, ladies. Time for you to be prepared for the ceremony.”

Knox gives me a gentle push. “Go with her. I’ll see you soon.”

We’re led to a dressing room where six masks rest on velvet cushions. Each one matches our hunters’ colors and styles. The woman picks up a blue porcelain mask with intricate designs that mirror Knox’s skull pattern.

“These signify your status as prey,” she explains, fitting it over my face. “Each hunter’s mark.”

I touch the cool surface, feeling the ridges of the design. Unlike my first plain mask, this one covers only the top half of my face—the opposite of Knox’s.

Mira receives a blood-red mask to match Xavier’s.

Cora’s is gray with skull detailing, identical to the three men who claimed her.

Lia’s emerald green matches Vane’s. Sadie’s pure white one mirrors Landon’s.

Keira’s is the same black and yellow detailing as the two twins who claimed her.

And I am so glad that it seems Elliot has finally come to terms with his true self.

I saw him caught between two men in the orgy room, and you could tell he was having the time of his life.

After entering as a hunter, he’s now being treated the same as prey and receives a silver mask.

“The claiming ceremony awaits,” the woman says. “And now everyone knows who you belong to.”

I catch my reflection in the mirror, the blue mask transforming me into someone I barely recognize—someone bolder. Someone who belongs to Knox Blackwood.

We follow the woman in black down a dimly lit hallway, our new masks marking us as claimed property.

The doors to the orgy room open once more, and my heart pounds against my ribs.

The space has been transformed. Where before there was chaos and passion, now there’s ceremonial order.

The hunters stand in a semicircle around a raised dais at the center of the room.

I gasp when I notice the dais is covered entirely in mirror—a seamless reflective surface from edge to edge.

My eyes find Knox immediately. He stands tall among the other hunters, his blue skull mask in place. His gaze locks onto me with an intensity that feels like a physical touch, even from across the room. My steps falter.

Landon Blackwood is the first to step forward. His white mask gleams in the low light as he extends his hand toward Sadie. She looks pale beneath her matching mask, her fingers trembling as she places them in his.

“I claim Sadie Reynolds for one full year. She belongs to me completely.”

Sadie’s throat works as she swallows hard, but she doesn’t protest as Landon leads her to the mirrored dais.

A warm hand slides around my waist, and I jump.

“Easy,” Knox murmurs against my ear. “I’ve got you.”

I lean into him instinctively, drawing strength from his solid presence. Around us, the other girls and Elliot move toward their hunters—Mira to Xavier, Lia to Vane, Cora to her three captors, Elliot to Julian, and Keira to the twins. We stand in silent anticipation.

My eyes are drawn to the mirrored dais where Landon guides Sadie with firm hands. Despite the pristine white of his mask, there’s nothing pure about the way he positions her.

“I don’t want this,” Sadie hisses, but her voice lacks conviction. “Not like this. Not with everyone watching.”

Landon doesn’t respond with words. Instead, his fingers trace patterns across her skin. I find myself mesmerized by the way he breaks through her defenses—a whisper at her ear, a firm grip on her hip, a slow caress that makes her shudder despite herself.

“Stop,” she protests, yet arches toward him.

I feel heat rise to my cheeks as I watch her resistance crumble. It’s both terrifying and fascinating to witness such an intimate battle of wills. Landon drives forward with restrained hunger, while Sadie’s protests fade into moans that betray how much she truly wants this.

Her moans fill the chamber, contradicting her protests. The sound triggers a confusing mixture of emotions within me—embarrassment at witnessing such intimacy, yet being unable to look away. I recognize myself in her surrender, in the way pleasure overwhelms resistance.

“You’re mine,” Landon growls, his normally quiet demeanor transformed by an unmistakable dominance over her.

Sadie’s response is a broken cry—part denial, part ecstasy. Her hips move in perfect rhythm with his, even as her words continue to resist. I find myself holding my breath, transfixed by the display of power and submission reflected endlessly in the mirrored surface.

The contradiction in her response—fighting him with words while yielding completely—strikes me as painfully familiar. Isn’t that exactly what I had been doing with Knox?

When Landon and Sadie finish, I expect the next pair to step forward—perhaps Xavier and Mira. Instead, the man who had been having sex with Elliot during the feast moves to the center of the room.

“I claim Elliot Chambers for one full year,” Julian announces. “He belongs to me.”

Gasps ripple through the hunters. I feel Knox’s grip tighten around my waist.

“What the hell?” he whispers. “That’s not—hunters don’t claim hunters.”

“Julian, I...” Elliot’s voice breaks.

“Stand up,” Julian demands.

Elliot gets to his feet as ordered.

“Come here.”

Elliot moves toward Julian without resistance.

He’s no longer fighting who he truly is—the part of himself I suspected he had locked away.

Unlike Sadie, there’s no hesitation in his steps, only anticipation.

I can’t see his features behind his silver mask, but the tension in his shoulders speaks volumes.

When he reaches the platform, Julian circles, and I feel the anticipation crackling through the entire room.

“Good boy,” he murmurs loud enough for everyone to hear.

Watching Elliot, I notice the way his cock twitches at the praise and his shoulders sag.

The effect on him is immediate and clearly overwhelming. His composure breaks.

Julian’s hands move to Elliot’s shoulders, guiding him down to the platform. “On your hands and knees. Face the audience.”

My breath catches as Elliot assumes the position, facing the crowd. Julian arranges him deliberately, making sure everyone can see Elliot’s obvious arousal—hard and leaking against the reflective surface below.

“Look how eager you are,” Julian says, loud enough for all to hear. “Such a good boy for me, aren’t you?”

I should look away. This feels more intimate than anything I’ve witnessed tonight. Yet I can’t tear my eyes from them as Julian positions himself behind Elliot, his fingers digging into the other man’s hips.

“Nothing but a hole for me to use,” Julian continues, his voice a contradiction of tenderness and cruelty. “My personal slut.”

Elliot moans in response, accepting Julian’s rough thrusts without complaint.

I press my thighs together, shocked at the wetness gathering there. The display of dominance, the raw masculinity of their coupling—it affects me in ways I never anticipated. I had never watched two men together before this weekend, and I never imagined it would arouse me so intensely.

“God, that’s hot,” I whisper without thinking.

Knox’s hand slides down my hip, fingers brushing against my dampness. “I had no idea you’d enjoy this particular show, princess,” he murmurs against my ear. “Interesting.”

As Julian continues his claiming of Elliot, Knox’s grip tightens on my waist, his breath hot against my ear.

“Lucky us,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “We’re next, princess.”

My stomach drops and soars simultaneously.

The thought of everyone watching us—of being completely exposed on that mirrored platform—sends a wave of panic through me.

Yet beneath that panic runs a current of molten desire.

I’m already embarrassingly wet, responding to the display before us and the promise of what’s to come.

“I...” The words catch in my throat as I watch Julian drive into Elliot.

Julian tightens his grip on Elliot’s hips, his thrusts becoming more forceful. “Show them,” he growls, his voice echoing through the hushed room. “Show everyone what happens when you’re mine. Come for me. Now.”

Elliot tenses, back arching as he cries out—a sound of surrender and release that makes my own body clench in response. His climax erupts across the mirrored surface beneath him, thick ropes of white painting the reflective platform.

Julian doesn’t slow his pace. If anything, he drives deeper, his fingers digging into Elliot’s flesh hard enough to leave marks.

“Mine,” he snarls, his composure fracturing.

His rhythm falters, becomes erratic. With one final, brutal thrust, Julian presses himself flush against Elliot’s back and shudders.

Though I can’t see it, I know exactly what’s happening—Julian marking Elliot from the inside, claiming him.

The room is silent except for their ragged breathing. Julian withdraws, allowing everyone to see the physical evidence of his claim as it trickles down Elliot’s thigh.