Page 32 of Haunted (Blackwood Brothers #1)

She gestures to her torn dress and the marks on her arms. “Turns out being hunted isn’t something you can hack your way out of.”

“They don’t just want our bodies,” I realize aloud. “They want our minds too and to make us complicit.”

“Exactly.” Sadie’s voice is bitter. “And the really sick part? Some of us will leave here thinking we wanted it all along. That’s how good they are at this.”

I picture Cora in that chamber with three men, confused about whether she’s enjoying herself or being violated. The line between consent and coercion blurs when you’re overwhelmed, when your physiological response betrays everything your mind believes in.

“Even if I could reach her, what would I do?” I ask quietly. “Tell her she doesn’t really want what’s happening? That the way she feels is manufactured, or worse, that they are simply the body’s inherent response to stimuli even when unwanted?”

“Would you believe that if someone told you?”

I think about Xavier’s hands on me, the way I came apart for him in that pool. Would I believe someone who told me it wasn’t real, that I was responding to psychological manipulation?

“No,” I admit. “I wouldn’t.”

“Sadie...”

The voice drifts down the corridor like smoke. It’s barely above a whisper, but in the relative quiet of this section of the maze, it carries perfectly.

“Sadie, where are you hiding, beautiful?”

Sadie goes rigid beside me, her face draining of color. “Fuck,” she breathes, panic flashing in her eyes. “He found me.”

The voice continues, closer now, with a sing-song quality that makes my skin crawl. “I know you’re here somewhere. Come out, come out...”

“Who is that?” I whisper, but Sadie is already backing away from the direction of the voice.

“Landon,” she says through gritted teeth. “One of Xavier’s brothers. I thought I’d lost him when I—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s been hunting me specifically all night.”

"Sadie..." The voice is getting closer, and its calmness sounds unsettling. Whoever is speaking isn’t frustrated or angry like I’d expect from a hunter who lost his prey, but amused. This is all part of a game he’s enjoying.

“I can smell your perfume. That vanilla scent you’re so fond of.”

Sadie’s hands shake as she presses herself against the wall. “He’s been watching me for weeks. Learning my habits, my preferences. This whole thing—it’s not random for any of us. They planned this. Meticulously.”

Cora is being targeted because of her father. And now Sadie is being systematically hunted by someone who’s clearly studied her.

“We need to move,” I whisper, grabbing her arm.

But Sadie shakes her head, her breathing becoming rapid. “He’s too close. And he knows these passages better than we do. I’ve been running from him for what feels like forever, and he keeps herding me exactly where he wants me to go.”

“Sadie, you’re making this so much harder than it needs to be.”

The voice is right around the corner now, and I can hear footsteps—measured, unhurried.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Sadie mutters under her breath.

“Run,” I hiss at Sadie, pressing myself against the wall beside her. “I’ll stall him.”

“What? Mira, no?—”

“He can’t touch me,” I interrupt. “I’m already taken.”

Sadie’s eyes widen as understanding dawns. “You’re sure?”

“Positive. Go! ”

The footsteps are so close now that I can hear the deliberate rhythm of his breathing. Whoever this Landon is, he’s taking his time, savoring the Hunt like Xavier did to me.

“Thank you,” Sadie breathes, squeezing my hand briefly before she turns and disappears down the opposite corridor, her bare feet silent on the stone floor.

I wait until I can’t hear her movements anymore, then take a deep breath and step around the corner.

I slam directly into a solid wall of muscle.

Strong hands grab my shoulders to steady me, and I find myself staring up at a white mask. His ice-blue eyes are cold, calculating, and strangely amused.

But I recognize those eyes. I’ve seen them before.

Landon Blackwood. I’ve seen him enough times at Purgatory.

“Well, well.” The voice behind the mask is smooth and cultured. “If it isn’t Xavier’s journalist.”

I force myself to stand straighter, fighting every instinct that tells me to run. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you don’t.” Landon’s head tilts, and even with the mask, I can sense his amusement. “You happened to be wandering around this particular section of the maze, wearing Xavier’s shirt like some kind of territorial marking.”

Heat floods my cheeks. “I got lost.”

“Lost.” He repeats the word as if he’s tasting it, finding it amusing. “And I suppose you didn’t see anyone else while you were wandering around lost? ”

“No.” The lie comes easy, though I can tell from his posture that he doesn’t believe me for a second.

Landon takes a step closer. He’s not as physically imposing as Xavier. Still, something is unsettling about his stillness, the way he seems to be analyzing every micro-expression on my face.

“Mira,” he says, my name like he’s disappointed in me. “Did you really think you could delay me with this amateur performance?”

My mouth goes dry. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The scared little lost girl act might work on someone else, but I’ve watched your performance tonight.” His voice drops lower. “I know exactly how smart you are. How calculated. You’re standing here having this conversation for a reason.”

He tries to push past me, but I shift, blocking his path.

“She went that way, didn’t she?” Landon gestures down the corridor that Sadie disappeared into. “About thirty seconds ago, moving quietly but not quietly enough.”

My stomach clenches, but I keep my expression neutral. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Sadie Reynolds. Five-foot-six, dark hair, probably still wearing what’s left of that purple dress.” His tone is conversational as if we’re discussing the weather. “She’s been running from me for quite some time now.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.”

Landon’s laugh is soft, almost gentle. “Oh, she definitely doesn’t want to be found. That’s what makes it so much fun.”

The casual cruelty in his voice makes my skin crawl. “You’re sick.”

“I’m a hunter.” He takes another step closer, but I stand my ground in his way. “And I don’t appreciate interference in my work.”

“I’m not interfering with anything.”

“No?” His head tilts again, and I can feel those cold blue eyes studying me. “Then step aside.”

I lift my chin, meeting where I think his gaze is behind the mask. “And if I don’t?”

“Then you’ll learn why my brothers call me the patient one.

” His voice never changes tone, never rises, or becomes threatening.

Somehow, that makes it worse. “I can wait, Mira. I can stand here and have this conversation with you for as long as necessary. But Sadie’s trail gets colder every minute you delay me. ”

He’s right, and we both know it. Every second I keep him talking is a second Sadie can use to put distance between them, but she’s still trapped in this maze. She is still wearing the torn remnants of a dress that mark her as prey.

“There’s nothing you can do to save her from me,” Landon continues, his voice almost gentle now. “You know that, don’t you? Just like there was nothing anyone could do to save you from Xavier.”

My hands clench into fists at my sides. “That was different.”

“Was it?” I can hear the smile in his voice even though I can’t see it behind the mask. “You signed the same contract she did. Walked into the same trap. The only difference is that Xavier got to you first.”

“Move aside, Mira,” he says again. “This ends one of two ways—either you step out of my path voluntarily, or I move you myself. Either option works for me.”

I step aside.

The defeat tastes bitter in my mouth, but what choice do I have? Landon is right.

“Smart girl,” Landon murmurs as he passes me, his shoulder brushing mine deliberately. “Xavier chose well.”

I watch him disappear down the corridor. Sadie took his footsteps already quickening as he picked up her trail. The casual confidence in his movements makes my stomach churn. He’s not rushing because he doesn’t need to.

I should have held him longer. Should have fought harder and created a greater distraction. Those extra thirty seconds might have been enough for Sadie to find a better hiding spot, or another route, or?—

But who am I kidding? Sadie was always going to end up caught, like I was. Just like we all were.

The silence settles around me again, broken only by distant sounds that could be anything or anyone. I wrap Xavier’s shirt tighter around myself and try not to think about what’s happening in other parts of this labyrinth.

Try not to think about Cora.

But I can’t stop myself. The image of her with those three men burns behind my eyelids. Sadie’s description plays on repeat—the confusion in Cora’s responses, the way she couldn’t tell if she was being violated or if she was enjoying it. The mention of her father, of revenge.

God, what have I done?

I’m the reason Mayor Pike’s daughter is being used as a weapon against him.

If I’d never gotten that invitation, never pushed Xavier for access to his world, Cora would be safe at home right now.

She’d be complaining about her father’s fundraiser and wearing boring conservative dresses instead of torn silk in a dungeon somewhere.

The worst part is knowing there’s nothing I can do about it now. We’re all trapped in the choices we made, in the contracts we signed. Even if I could find her, even if I could reach her—what then?

The truth is brutal and inescapable: We walked into this willingly. We signed those papers, put on these ridiculous outfits, and accepted the risk. Whatever happens to us tonight—to Sadie, to Cora, to me—we chose it.

Even if we didn’t understand what we were choosing.