Page 34 of Haunted (Blackwood Brothers #1)

MIRA

M y bare feet make no sound against the floor as I wander deeper into this maze. Xavier’s shirt hangs loose on me, the fabric still carrying his scent—dark spice and uniquely his that makes my stomach clench.

Exhaustion weighs on my limbs like lead, but sleep feels impossible now. Every shadow could hide another hunter. Every corridor could lead to another trap. The time I spent unconscious feel like stolen time, borrowed safety that’s already expired.

A sound drifts through the maze—high-pitched, breathless. At first, it sounds like someone in pain. Still, as it continues, it becomes unmistakable that it is a woman moaning in ecstasy.

I should run in the opposite direction because nothing good can come from following those cries. Still, after everything I’ve witnessed, curiosity wins over self- preservation. The researcher in me needs to see, needs to understand the full scope of this twisted world.

The sounds grow louder as I move through a narrow passage.

My fingertips trail along the wall for guidance in the dim lighting, and a wet and sticky substance transfers to my skin.

I jerk my hand back, expecting blood, but when I examine my fingers in the pale light, the substance is too bright, too red.

Paint.

The walls are smeared with crimson streaks that drip down like abstract artwork. Or perhaps it’s meant to resemble blood. In this place, both options seem equally plausible.

Pieces of torn fabric litter the floor—lace, leather. A black bra hangs from a protruding stone. Further along, a pair of shredded panties clings to what looks like a medieval sconce.

The moaning intensifies, joined now by deeper groans and the rhythmic sound of flesh meeting flesh. Multiple voices blend together in a symphony of lust that makes my pulse quicken despite my revulsion.

Heavy chains dangle from the ceiling ahead, swaying slightly as if recently used.

Some still have leather cuffs attached, while others end in metal hooks that gleam dully in the torchlight.

The sight sends a shiver of recognition through me—memories of being restrained in the pool, of Xavier’s hands controlling every aspect of my pleasure.

I press forward, drawn by a sick fascination I can’t quite grasp .

The passage opens into a circular chamber lit by flickering torches mounted on iron brackets.

Keira lies sprawled across a padded platform in the center of the room, her dark red hair fanned out like spilled wine. Her body arches, every muscle taut with pleasure as two identical figures move over her.

One kneels between her spread thighs, his head buried against her most intimate place while his hands grip her hips. The other straddles her chest, feeding her his cock as she takes him eagerly, her throat working around him.

Keira’s eyes roll back in ecstasy, her hands fisted in the sheets beneath her. Soft whimpers escape around the cock filling her mouth, growing louder as the twin between her legs increases his pace. Her legs tremble violently, toes curling as another wave of pleasure crashes over her.

"Good girl," the twin at her head murmurs, his voice rough with lust. "Take everything we give you."

The one between her thighs lifts his head, chin glistening with her arousal. “She’s close again, brother. I can feel how she’s clenching around my tongue.”

There’s no jealousy between them, no competition—only shared possession of the woman writhing between them.

I should look away. Should back out of this chamber before they notice me. But I’m frozen in place, watching as Keira surrenders completely to their dominance. This isn’t like what I witnessed earlier with the forced encounters. She’s a willing participant, lost in bliss as they worship her.

My foot shifts backward, seeking escape, and a loose stone skitters across the floor.

The twin at Keira’s head turns immediately, his hazel eyes locking onto mine with laser focus. A slow smile spreads across his face as he takes in my disheveled appearance—Xavier’s shirt hanging off one shoulder, my hair wild from running through the maze.

“Well, well,” he says, never breaking eye contact. “Looks like we have an audience, brother.”

The other twin glances over his shoulder, his expression equally hungry. “Xavier’s prey. How convenient.”

Keira’s eyes flutter open, hazy with pleasure, as she looks between the twins and me. A flush spreads across her chest, but she doesn’t seem embarrassed—only curious.

“Don’t be shy,” the first twin continues. “Why don’t you join us? There’s plenty of room.”

Before I can even form a response, a deep horn echoes through the maze—long, resonant, and unmistakably summoning. The sound reverberates off the stone walls, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

The twins freeze instantly, their focus on me forgotten. The one between Keira’s thighs pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand while his brother withdraws from her lips with a soft pop.

“It’s time,” the first twin says, his voice suddenly all business.

One reaches for a bundle of yellow silk that had been draped over a nearby chair while the other helps Keira sit up on the platform. Her legs shake as she tries to support her weight, still trembling from the pleasure they’d given her.

“Easy,” the twin murmurs, his voice gentle now. “We’ve got you.”

They begin wrapping the fabric around her ritualistically—not to cover her, but to present her. The silk binds her breasts, lifting and displaying them. More fabric winds around her waist, between her thighs, creating an intricate pattern that’s both beautiful and possessive.

“What’s happening?” I whisper, though I’m not sure they’ll answer.

“The gathering,” Keira says breathlessly, her eyes meeting mine. “All prey must be presented.”

One twin secures a final knot at her hip while the other produces an ornate silver collar from somewhere I can’t see. The metal gleams with symbols I don’t recognize.

“This marks you as ours,” the twin with darker hair explains as he fastens the collar around her throat.

Keira’s fingers trace the metal reverently. “I understand.”

The other twin turns to me, his hazel eyes calculating. “You should return to your hunter before he comes looking. Xavier won’t appreciate finding his prize wandering alone.”

The horn sounds again, more insistent this time. Both twins straighten, their attention shifting beyond this chamber.

“Can you walk?” one asks Keira.

She nods, testing her balance as she slides off the platform. The bindings shift with her movement, the fabric designed to enhance rather than restrict.

“Then it’s time to go.”

The twin with the darker hair notices my confusion and lets out a low chuckle that raises goosebumps along my arms.

“Poor girl doesn’t understand what’s happening, does she?” His voice drips with mock concern as he helps Keira to her feet. “Let me enlighten you, sweetheart.”

He steps closer, his hazel eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “That horn? It’s calling everyone to the central chamber. Hunters and prey alike. The maze games are over—now comes the real entertainment.”

My stomach drops. “What do you mean?”

“The orgy room,” he says simply as if discussing the weather. “Where all the prey are properly displayed for the entire gathering. Where the hunters can share their prizes, trade them, and enjoy the spoils of their hunt together.”

Keira shivers, though whether from fear or anticipation, I can’t tell.

“Some hunters prefer to keep their catches private,” one twin continues, circling me. “But tradition demands presentation. Your Xavier will parade you before every hunter in that room, show them exactly what he captured.”

The blood drains from my face. “I won’t?—”

“You will,” his twin interrupts, moving to Keira’s other side. “The contract you signed covers this, too. Every delicious detail.”

The other twin laughs again, the sound sharp and mocking. “Did you really think the hunt ended with a simple fuck in the pool? Oh, you have so much to learn about our world.”

The horn echoes through the chamber again, longer this time, more demanding. Both twins straighten, their playful cruelty shifting to urgent purpose.

One of them takes Keira’s elbow. “The gathering waits for no one.”

They move toward a passage I hadn’t noticed before, half-hidden behind ornate tapestries.

Keira glances back at me. “Good luck,” she whispers before the twins guide her into the shadows.

I stand alone in the chamber, my mind reeling. The orgy room. Displayed like a trophy. Shared among hunters like a piece of meat.

My legs feel weak, threatening to buckle under the weight of what awaits me. The horn calls again, and I know I can’t hide here forever. Somewhere in this maze, Xavier is hunting for me, ready to take his prize before the entire gathering.

A hand grips my shoulder from behind.

The touch burns through Xavier’s shirt like a brand, fingers pressing into my skin with familiar possessions. Tension coils through me as that scent wraps around me.

“Running again?” The voice is low, amused, and completely calm despite the urgency of the horns still echoing through the maze .

I don’t turn around. Can’t. My eyes remain fixed on the passage where the twins disappeared with Keira, where she vanished the into shadows.

“I wasn’t running,” I whisper, hating how breathless I sound. “I was just?—”

“Watching.” His grip tightens slightly. “Learning what’s expected of you.”

Heat floods my cheeks as I realize he knows exactly what I witnessed. Of course, he does. The surveillance cameras probably captured every second of my voyeuristic episode.

“The twins were quite accommodating, weren’t they?” Xavier continues conversationally as if discussing the weather rather than the explicit scene I’d stumbled upon. “Cyrus always enjoys an audience. Did you like what you saw?”

I force myself to swallow, needing to calm down, because the honest answer terrifies me—yes, I liked it. The way Keira surrendered completely, the way the twins worshipped her, the bindings that transformed her into living art.

“The horn,” I manage, grasping for safer ground.

“Summoning us to the center,” Xavier confirms. “Where every hunter will see exactly what I’ve claimed. Where you’ll understand your place in our world.”

His free hand slides down my arm, fingers intertwining with mine. The gentle gesture is a sharp contrast to the steel in his voice.

“I won’t be displayed like some trophy,” I say, finally finding my voice .

Xavier’s laugh rumbles against my back as he steps closer, his chest pressing against my spine. “You still think you have a choice.”

The horn sounds again, longer this time, more insistent. Around us, the maze seems to pulse with new energy—distant footsteps, voices calling, the sound of other hunters herding their catches toward whatever central chamber awaits.

“They’re all gathering,” Xavier murmurs against my ear. “Every hunter who participated in the hunt. Every woman who was claimed. And you, my prize, will take your place among them.”

Not Xavier’s possession, but wholly objectified, displayed in a performance of submission before them all. My heart races in my chest at the twisted ritual he’s orchestrated to conclude this nightmare.

“I can hear your heart racing,” he whispers, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Fear or excitement?”

I close my eyes, knowing the answer even as I stand defiantly silent. Knowing before I even feel his other arm circle my waist, before I hear his satisfied hum against my neck, that resistance is futile.