Page 19 of Haunted (Blackwood Brothers #1)

MIRA

T he maze walls tower above us, carved stone casting eerie shadows in the flickering torchlight. My bare feet find purchase on the cold marble floor as we move deeper into the labyrinth. The red silk clings to my skin, offering no protection against the chill or the growing dread in my chest.

“This place is massive,” Cora whispers beside me. Her own outfit—a flowing gray fabric that barely covers her curves—rustles with each step.

I nod, trying to focus on memorizing our path instead of the way my heart hammers against my ribs. Left turn, straight corridor, another left. If we need to double back, I want to know the way.

“The other women scattered quickly,” Cora observes, her voice barely audible above our footsteps.

They had. Bianca disappeared down the first right turn we encountered, while Keira and Sadie went left together. Lia had actually laughed—laughed before sauntering down a center path alone, hips swaying like she was heading to a party instead of becoming prey to hunters.

“Good,” I murmur back. “Fewer variables to worry about.”

The maze feels alive, shadows shifting with each flicker of torchlight. Stone gargoyles gaze out down from alcoves, their expressions frozen in various states. The architecture screams old money and older secrets—exactly what I’d expected from the Blackwoods.

Every instinct I have tells me to document this, to remember every detail. However, right now, survival takes precedence over investigation.

The corridor ahead branches into three paths. Cora touches my arm, her fingers trembling. “Which way?”

Before I can answer, a sound echoes through the maze that makes my blood turn to ice. A low, bone-deep alarm that reverberates off the stone walls and seems to penetrate straight to my core.

My stomach drops.

“They’re coming,” I breathe.

The alarm cuts off abruptly, leaving behind a silence that feels infinitely more devious.

Cora’s face has gone pale; her confident facade is cracking. “Mira?—”

I grab her, pulling her against me in a fierce embrace. She trembles against me, and I realize I’m shaking, too. The reality of our situation crashes over me like a tidal wave. We’re trapped in here with fifteen men who want to hunt us down like animals .

“We stick together,” I whisper fiercely into her ear, my voice stronger than I feel. “As long as possible, okay? Whatever happens, we don’t separate.”

Cora’s nod is shaky, uncertainty flickering across her features like candlelight. Her emerald eyes dart between the three paths ahead of us, and I can see her trying to process what we’ve gotten ourselves into.

“Stay close,” I whisper, choosing the middle path. It feels safer somehow, though that’s probably an illusion in this place.

We move together, our bare feet silent on the cold marble. The torchlight creates dancing shadows that make every unlit recess look like it might hide a predator. I keep one hand trailing along the wall, feeling for any irregularities, any clues about how this maze works.

The silence stretches between us, broken only by our careful breathing and the crackle of flames. Cora’s shoulder brushes mine as we navigate a narrow section, and I draw comfort from her presence even as my nerves fray with each passing second.

Then we hear it.

Footsteps. Fast, purposeful footsteps echo off stone walls somewhere behind us.

Cora’s breath catches beside me. “Oh God?—”

The footsteps grow louder and clearer. They’re no longer trying to be quiet. They know we can hear them coming.

“Run,” I breathe, but Cora’s already moving.

She bolts to the right, pure panic propelling her forward like a startled deer. Her gray silk streams behind her as she disappears around a corner.

“Cora, wait!” I sprint after her, my heart pounding so hard it drowns out everything else.

I round the corner where she disappeared, but the corridor is empty. No Cora. No gray silk.

That’s impossible.

I skid to a stop, my bare feet sliding on the smooth marble. This corridor is too long, too straight. Cora couldn’t have made it to the end already, and there were no side passages?—

A grinding sound fills the air. Stone against stone, deep and mechanical.

The wall to my left shudders and then begins to move. Slowly, inexorably, it slides across the corridor I just came from, sealing off my path back. Where there had been an opening seconds ago, now there’s only solid stone.

I press my palms against the new wall, pushing desperately. “Cora!”

My voice echoes in the empty corridor, but there’s no response. The maze has swallowed my best friend whole, and I’m alone.

I press my back against the cold stone wall, forcing myself to stay absolutely still. My breathing sounds thunderous in the silence, each exhale seeming to echo off the maze walls like a beacon for whoever’s hunting me.

Listen. Focus.

The footsteps I heard before have stopped, but that doesn’t mean anything. They could be anywhere now, moving silently through corridors I can’t see. The maze feels like it’s breathing around me, alive with deviant observers at every turn.

A pebble skitters across marble somewhere to my left.

My heart slams against my ribs. That wasn’t random—someone made that stone move.

I hold my breath, straining to hear over the thundering of my pulse. The silence stretches on, oppressive and terrifying. Every shadow could hide a predator. Every flicker of torchlight makes me flinch.

Then I see him.

A figure emerges from an alcove I swear was empty moments ago, stepping into the torchlight with casual confidence.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in black leather pants.

But it’s the mask that makes my blood turn to ice, bright blue, and covering the lower half of his face with a skull pattern.

His head tilts as he spots me, and I can feel his gaze assessing me. A low chuckle rumbles from his throat.

“Well, well.” His voice is smooth. “What do we have here?”

Knox. I recognize that cocky tone, the way he moves like he owns every space he occupies. Xavier’s youngest brother, the one who always seems to find everything amusing.

He takes a step closer. “Red silk suits you, sweetheart. I have to say...” His gaze drops to where the fabric barely covers my thighs. “Xavier has excellent taste in wrapping paper.”

My stomach lurches. I press harder against the wall, wishing I could melt into the stone.

“What’s wrong?” Knox continues. “Cat got your tongue? You were so talkative at the club.”

He’s close enough now that I can see his eyes through the mask’s openings—bright blue, lit with cruel amusement.

“I was hoping you’d run,” he purrs, voice dropping. “The chase is always more fun when the prey puts up a fight.”

I press my back harder against the stone wall, my heart hammering as Knox takes another leisurely step forward. “You know,” he says conversationally, like we’re chatting at a coffee shop instead of him hunting me through a maze, “The statues are so boring.”

He reaches out, fingers almost brushing the red silk at my shoulder. I flinch away, and his low chuckle sends ice through my veins.

“There we go. That’s the fear I was looking for.” His voice drops to a purr. “Tell me, sweetheart, what did you think was going to happen when you signed that pretty little NDA? That you’d waltz in here, ask some questions, and waltz back out?”

My throat feels like sandpaper. “I thought?—”

“You thought wrong.” Knox’s hand hovers dangerously close to my face, not quite touching but close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. “See, the thing about Xavier’s little games is that once you’re in, you don’t get to leave the same way you came.”

His fingers trace the air inches from my cheek, and I can’t help the small whimper that escapes me.

“Music to my ears,” he murmurs. “Let’s see what other sounds you make when?—”

A growl echoes through the corridor. Low, dangerous, and absolutely feral.

Knox’s entire demeanor changes instantly. His hand drops away from my face, his head snapping toward the sound. I notice his expression shift from amusement to tension.

“Well, shit,” he mutters as Xavier appears from the shadows, prowling toward us wearing a red skull mask. He makes another growl that doesn’t sound human—it sounds wild.

Knox’s blue eyes flash as they meet mine, and he looks wary.

“Looks like your boyfriend’s here,” he says.

“Xavier never liked to share his toys when we were kids.” Knox is already backing away.

“You better run, sweetheart. Fast. Because if Xavier catches you before you’ve had a proper chase.

..” He shakes his head, almost pitying. “Well, let’s say he won’t be as gentle as I would have been. ”

I stare at him blankly as Xavier prowls toward us.

“Go,” Knox hisses, jerking his head toward the far end of the corridor. “Now. Unless you want to spend the rest of this hunt pinned under the Red Mask with no chance of escape. My brother is as feral as they come.”

I don’t look back. I don’t think. I run .

My bare feet slap against the cold marble as I sprint down the corridor, the red silk streaming behind me like a banner. The torchlight blurs past in streaks of orange and gold, and I can hear my own ragged breathing echoing off the stone walls.

Behind me, Knox’s footsteps fade away. Still, they’re replaced by the pace of someone who knows exactly where I’m going and isn’t in any hurry to catch me.

Yet.

I take a sharp left turn, then another right, trying to put as much distance between myself and that sound as possible. The maze stretches endlessly ahead of me, corridor after corridor of cold stone and flickering shadows.

My lungs burn, but I don’t dare slow down. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to run faster, to find somewhere to hide, to?—

“Run, hide, resist.” Xavier’s voice echoes through the maze, amplified by the stone walls, until it seems to come from everywhere at once. “It only makes the moment I have you more exhilarating.”

The words make me fumble because there’s his tone is so different.

He’s not just hunting me. He’s savoring it like his favorite whiskey.

I force myself to keep moving, my feet finding purchase on the smooth marble despite the way I’m trembling. Left turn, straight corridor, another left. I’m trying to remember the path, trying to map the maze in my head, but a bone-deep sense of panic is making it impossible to think clearly.

A grinding sound fills the air ahead of me—stone moving against stone. My heart sinks as I realize what’s happening. The walls are shifting again, rearranging themselves, cutting off potential escape routes, reminding me there is no way to map the maze.

I reach a junction where three corridors branch off, and I hesitate for just a moment, trying to decide which way to go. That’s when I hear them—footsteps behind me. Still measured, still unhurried, but definitely closer than before.

Xavier isn’t running. He doesn’t need to. He knows this maze like the back of his hand, and I’m just a mouse scurrying through passages he’s designed specifically to trap me.

I choose the middle path and run harder, my heart hammering against my ribs so violently I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. The red silk clings to my sweat-dampened skin, and every breath feels like fire in my lungs.

I round another corner, my lungs screaming for air, when movement in an alcove to my right catches my peripheral vision. I stop in my tracks when I see her—Keira is pressed against the stone wall with two figures looming over her.

Both men wear identical black masks decorated with intricate yellow patterns that appear to shift and dance in the torchlight.

One has his hand tangled in her dark red hair, tilting her head back as he kisses her.

The other trails his lips down the curve of her neck, his hands roaming over the scraps of fabric.

Keira’s blue eyes are wide, but not with terror. Her hands grip the leather of one man’s jacket, not pushing him away but pulling him closer.

“Please,” she gasps between kisses, but the word sounds less like a plea for rescue and more like a plea for more.

The taller of the two masked men lifts his head from her throat, and I catch a glimpse of ice-blue eyes. “Exactly right, beautiful,” he murmurs, voice rough with desire. “Tell us what you want.”

The other man’s hand slides down her side, and Keira’s back arches against the wall. “Both of you,” she breathes.

My feet falter for a moment, shock rooting me to the spot. This isn’t what I expected to find.

The shorter man notices me first, his head snapping up. Dark eyes meet mine for a split second before he dismisses me, returning his attention to Keira’s flushed face.

I should help her. I should do something, say something—but Keira’s soft moan echoes off the stone walls, and I realize that she doesn’t want to be rescued.

Behind me, Xavier’s footsteps continue their relentless approach. Closer now, close enough that I can almost feel his presence like heat against my back.

I can’t stop. I can’t help. I can’t even process what I’m seeing because if I pause for even a second, if I let myself think about the implications of what’s happening to Keira, Xavier will catch me.

So I run past them, my bare feet silent on the marble, leaving Keira to whatever fate she’s chosen for herself.