Page 38 of Doomed (Blackwood Brothers #2)

BIANCA

A knock at my bedroom door jars me from a dreamless sleep. I groan, rolling over to squint at my phone. Three in the afternoon. I’ve been home from Ravenwood for barely four hours.

My muscles protest as I drag myself out of bed. Every muscle aches in ways I didn’t know possible, particularly between my thighs. The Hunt was... Intense doesn’t begin to cover it. Knox was insatiable. We all were.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror—hair wild, skin marked with lovebite bruises, and beard burns. Evidence of Knox’s possession is indelibly displayed on my skin. My fingers trace a particularly vivid mark on my collarbone, memories flooding back with shocking clarity.

There’s a knock again, more insistent this time.

“Coming!” I call, wincing at the hoarseness in my voice. I grab my robe from the hook, cinching it tightly around my waist.

Each step down the hallway is a reminder of what transpired in the maze, in the gallery room, on the dais. My cheeks flush hot with the memories.

Michelle is banging on my door a third time before I reach for the knob.

“I’m right here, hold on,” I mutter.

She stands there, clutching a paper bag and a cardboard tray with two coffee cups. Her eyes widen as she takes in my disheveled appearance.

“Holy shit,” she whispers. “You look... well, exactly like someone who spent seventy-two hours getting thoroughly fucked.”

I exit into the corridor, leaning against the wall. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I brought sustenance since you haven’t emerged all day,” she says, holding up her offerings. “Figured you’d need it.”

Michelle sets the coffee and bag on my kitchen counter, then turns to face me with her hands on her hips. “So, how are you doing? Really?”

I sink into a chair at the kitchen table, grateful for its support. “I’m doing better than expected, actually.” Despite the physical toll, there’s a strange contentment that has settled in my bones.

“Better than expected?” Michelle raises an eyebrow, sliding a coffee toward me. “You disappear for three days, show up looking like you’ve been mauled by a sexy wildcat, and that’s all I get?” She pulls out the chair across from me. “What happened? I need details—preferably the juicy ones.”

I wrap my hands around the warm cup, biting my lower lip. The memories flash through my mind—Knox’s hands, his mouth, the way he looked at me in those final moments. The things he whispered about forever.

“I can’t tell you,” I say finally. “That NDA I signed was serious. Like, legally-binding-with-terrifying-consequences serious.”

Michelle’s shoulders slump dramatically. “Come on! It’s me. Your newest and only best friend.”

“I know, but...” I gesture vaguely, remembering the weight of the document I’d signed, the specificity of its language. “These people don’t mess around.”

Michelle sighs, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Fine. I won’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Whatever happened in that creepy rich-people sex maze stays between us.”

I sigh deeply, running a hand through my tangled hair. “Okay, the basics then. We—the women—were allowed a thirty-minute head start to run into this elaborate maze in Purgatory, and the place is fucking huge. There were all these weird traps and... rooms designed for, well, specific activities.”

Michelle leans forward, eyes widening. “Like sex dungeons?”

“Pretty much,” I admit, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “Some were more elaborate than others. One had ropes hanging from the ceiling, another had chains, and there was an altar-like bed. There was even a gallery room with art supplies.”

“And Knox? He found you?”

I nod, unable to hide the small smile forming on my lips. “He caught me pretty quickly. I think he knew exactly where I was heading.” I take a sip of coffee, grateful for its warmth. “Let’s say he was... very dominant. Very possessive. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

Michelle’s jaw drops slightly. “And how many times did you...?”

“I lost count,” I confess, my voice dropping. “I’ve never had so much sex in my life. Three days of it, Michelle. Three. Days.”

“Holy shit.” Michelle sits back in her chair, clearly processing this information. “That sounds intense. Like, seriously intense.”

“It was.” I stare down at my coffee, remembering the weight of Knox’s body on mine, the way he made me feel both completely vulnerable and utterly safe. “I don’t even know how to process it all.”

“And you’re... okay?” Michelle asks, her expression shifting to concern.

“Surprisingly, yes.” I meet her eyes. “More than okay, actually.”

Michelle studies my face for a moment. “Wow. That’s... I mean, I knew the Hunt was supposed to be some kind of sex thing, but this sounds next level.”

I carefully omit certain details—particularly the part where Knox shared me with three other men. Despite how surprisingly good it felt in the moment, with Knox orchestrating and controlling everything, I’m not ready to unpack that with Michelle yet.

“That’s not all,” I say, picking at my coffee cup sleeve. “Knox claimed me.”

Michelle frowns, setting her cup down. “Claimed you? What does that mean?”

I take a deep breath. “At the end of the Hunt, there’s this ceremony. Hunters can claim their prey for a specific period, up to one year. Knox claimed me for the maximum.”

“Wait.” Michelle’s eyes widen. “Like, what exactly does that entail?”

“I have to live with him. For the next twelve months.”

Michelle’s jaw drops. “Live with him? As in, move in? With Knox Blackwood? You can’t abandon me, we’re roomies!” She shakes her head in disbelief. “And this is the same guy you slapped at the art gallery? The one you’ve been rejecting for months?”

I nod, unable to suppress a small smile despite my conflicted feelings.

“And you agreed to this?” Michelle leans forward, searching my face. “Was this in the contract? Because that seems like an aspect they should’ve disclosed up front.”

“It was in the fine print,” I admit. “I just... didn’t think he’d do it. Most hunters claim their prey for a few weeks, maybe a month.”

Michelle sits back, crossing her arms. “So, you’re telling me you have to pack up from our place and move in with a Blackwood. For a year.” She shakes her head slowly. “After everything you said about hating him, his arrogance—how do you feel about that now?”

I fiddle with my coffee cup, considering the question. How do I feel? Terrified. Excited. Overwhelmed.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “It’s complicated. He’s... not exactly who I thought he was.”

Michelle stares at me, her coffee cup suspended halfway to her mouth. “Wait, what? He’s not the womanizing bad boy everyone makes him out to be?”

I sigh, running my fingers through my tangled hair. “I mean, he is that—or at least, he was. But with me, he’s...” I search for the right words, remembering the intensity in Knox’s eyes when he’d claimed me publicly. “He’s completely fixated. Obsessed even.”

“Obsessed?” Michelle sets down her cup, leaning forward.

“You should’ve seen him during the Hunt. The way he looked at me, like I was the only person in the room.” I trace the rim of my coffee cup, remembering. “He kept saying I was his, that he’d been waiting for me, that he’d never let me go.”

“That’s...” Michelle’s expression turns concerned. “That’s actually kind of terrifying, B.”

I shrug, not meeting her eyes. “Maybe. But it didn’t feel that way. It felt...” Real. Genuine. “Different.”

Michelle reaches across the table, her fingers wrapping around my wrist. “And what happens when he gets bored? Or when he becomes obsessed with someone else?” Her voice softens. “You know his reputation. The Blackwoods take what they want, use it up, and move on.”

Her words are like a bucket of ice water, dousing the afterglow I’ve been floating in since returning home. Knox’s words replay in my mind—his promises, his declarations. But were they part of the Hunt? A game to him?

“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice smaller than I intend. “I honestly don’t know.”

Michelle gives me a sympathetic smile and squeezes my hand. “I just worry about you, B. This whole situation seems like an episode of what’s that old, creepy show? That's it, the Twilight Zone. You need to be careful.”

“Can we talk about something else?” I ask, suddenly desperate to escape the swirling thoughts about Knox and what I’ve gotten myself into. “How have you been? I feel like I’ve been so wrapped up in this Hunt madness that I haven’t properly checked in with you.”

Michelle accepts the change of subject with a nod, releasing my hand to reach for her coffee. “Well, while you were off living out some BDSM fantasy, I’ve been drowning in briefs at the firm. Jenkins handed me three new cases yesterday alone.”

“That’s good though, right? Shows they trust you.”

“Or they’re trying to break me before my review,” she says with a laugh. “But I did meet someone.”

This catches my attention. “Really? Who?”

“His name’s Daniel. He works at that café near the courthouse.” Michelle’s face brightens. “Nothing serious yet, but he makes the best latte in Ravenwood and always remembers my order.”

I smile, genuinely happy for her. “That’s a solid foundation for true love if I’ve ever heard one.”

We fall into easy conversation about her potential new romance, work drama, and the latest season of that cooking show we both love. It feels normal, comforting—everything the past three days weren’t.

But beneath our familiar banter, Michelle’s questions swirl through my mind like smoke.

What happens when Knox gets bored? When the novelty wears off?

I’d experienced a genuine connection in those intimate moments—a bond that went beyond mere physicality.

But was it mutual, or was I simply another conquest?

The memory of his voice surfaces.

You’re mine, Bianca. Forever.

In the heat of the moment, those words had thrilled me. Now, in the cold light of day, I’m not sure what to believe. After all, words are easy. It’s the follow-through that makes something real.

What if, after all this, after I move in and upend my life for him, Knox simply moves on?