Page 132 of Haunted
I consider this as we pass under the streetlights. “Knox hasn’t started a fight in three weeks. That might be a record.”
“Bianca’s good for him,” Mira says. “She doesn’t take his shit, but she doesn’t try to change him either.”
This is what I’ve come to love about Mira’s mind—how she sees people, really sees them. Not the surface, not the fear, but the complicated truth underneath.
“And Sadie,” I continue. “I expected Landon to break her completely, but she’s... adapting.”
“She’s surviving,” Mira corrects, and there’s weight in her voice. “There’s a difference.”
I stop walking and turn to face her fully. “Do you feel like you’re merely surviving?”
Mira’s smile is soft and genuine. “No. Not anymore.”
She reaches up, fingertips tracing the line of my jaw.
“The first week, maybe,” she admits. “When I was still fighting for what I wanted. But now?”
“Now?”
“Now I wake up every morning grateful you caught me in that maze.”
The admission hits me harder than it should. I’veheard her say she loves me and watched her surrender completely in my bed and in the private rooms at Purgatory. Still, this quiet confession feels more intimate than anything we’ve shared in public.
“Even knowing what I am?” I ask.
Mira’s laugh is warm against the cool air. “Especially knowing what you are. You’ve never lied to me, Xavier. Not about the darkness, not about what loving you means. That’s more honesty than I’ve gotten from anyone else in my life.”
I pull her closer, breathing in the scent of her hair. “I never thought I’d want someone to see the real me.”
“I know,” she whispers against my chest. “But I do see you, and I’m still here.”
The words wrap around the tightness in my chest, loosening it. This is love, I realize—not just possession or obsession, but this quiet certainty that someone knows your worst parts and chooses to stay anyway.
48
EPILOGUE
MIRA
Ten months later…
Istand beside Xavier in the preparation room, watching as familiar faces gather for this year’s reimagined Hunt. The energy feels different—charged with anticipation rather than the tension I remember from last October. These aren’t strangers being hunted by monsters anymore. We’re all willing participants in this twisted celebration.
“Nervous?” Xavier’s voice carries amusement as he adjusts his red mask, the same one that haunted my dreams a year ago.
“Excited,” I admit, surprising myself with the honesty. A part of me died somewhere between that first night and now. What remains craves the darkness Xavier showed me.
Across the room, Cora adjusts her silver silk dress. At the same time, Dominic, Liam, and Ryder check theirweapons—pleasure devices rather than hunting tools this time. She catches my eye and grins, no longer the mayor’s shame-filled daughter but a woman who owns her desires.
The carnival crew adds an electric element to our group. Sofia commands attention in crimson, her confidence radiating as Tyson circles her. I’ve heard the stories about their defiance of her father’s arranged marriage.
“Look at them,” Xavier murmurs, following my gaze to where Cade positions Lily against the wall, his massive frame dwarfing her delicate beauty. “He’s been obsessed with her since the carnival arrived in Willow Creek.”
Alice laughs at something Lars whispers in her ear, the sound bright against his dark intensity. Their dynamic fascinates me—how she matches his calculated control with fierce independence.
But it’s the threesome in the corner that makes my breath catch. Flora stands between Colt and Nash, both men’s hands possessive on her skin. The way they move around her speaks of perfect synchronization. This goes beyond what any of us experienced during the original Hunt.
“Twenty-four hours,” Xavier says, his fingers trailing down my spine through the black silk. “No rules except what we make ourselves.”
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