Page 36 of Haunted

My jaw clenches. “Standard rules apply. No permanent damage.”

Marcus Reid stands at attention near the back. His dark gaze assesses each screen. “Security protocols are impressive.”

Julian Frost remains perfectly still by the window, with pale features carved from marble. He says nothing.

Dominic Vega smooths his tailored jacket, olive skin gleaming under the harsh fluorescents. “The psychological element adds such deliciouscomplexity.”

The Dexter twins flank each other near the monitors—Cyrus vibrating with barely contained energy. At the same time, Ace watches everything with piercing hazel eyes. Cyrus cracks his knuckles. “Fuck, I’m ready to hunt.”

Ace simply nods; his calm demeanor a stark contrast to his brother’s volatility.

Liam Hayes straightens his expensive tie, blue eyes gleaming. “The legal implications of tonight’s activities remain fascinating.”

Jenson steps forward from the shadows where he’d been observing silently. My spymaster’s presence always brings an edge of danger. “All surveillance equipment is functioning perfectly. No blind spots.”

Fifteen hunters total. Fifteen men with their own dark appetites.

But only one prize matters to me.

On the screens, movement catches my attention. The women are approaching the entrance, red silk flashing among the other colors.

“Thirty minutes,” I announce, my voice cutting through the tension in the control room. “Standard head start before we’re released.”

Cyrus explodes from his position near the monitors, fists clenching. “Thirty fucking minutes? That’s a goddamn killjoy, X. Why torture ourselves watching when we could be hunting?”

For once, I find myself agreeing with the erratic Dexter twin. The wait feels like agony when every fiber of my being screams to chase down that flash of red silk.My cock is so fucking hard it demands action instead of observation.

“Cyrus has a point,” I growl, surprising everyone in the room. “Thirty minutes is excessive.”

Knox snorts from his station, fingers drumming against the control panel. “Listen to you two. Like rabid dogs straining against chains.”

“Says the man who’s practically vibrating with anticipation,” Vane observes dryly, his green eyes fixed on the screens. “Your left eye’s been twitching for the past five minutes.”

“That’s just my natural charm,” Knox shoots back, flashing his trademark grin. “Some call it cute.”

Landon doesn’t look up from his analysis of the maze feeds, but his voice carries quiet amusement. “Some call it psychological instability.”

“Fuck you, Landon,” Knox laughs. “At least I show emotion instead of calculating every breath in zeros and ones.”

“Calculation keeps us alive,” Landon replies smoothly. “Impulse gets us killed.”

Vane leans against the wall, arms crossed, as he studies his youngest brother. “Speaking of impulse, Knox, what’s your strategy tonight? Chase the loudest screamer and hope for the best?”

“My strategy is flawless,” Knox declares with mock seriousness. “Pure instinct and devastating good looks.”

“That’s not a strategy,” Landon mutters. “That’s a recipe for disaster.”

I barely hear their banter, my attention split betweenthe monitors and the ache in my groin. On-screen, red silk disappears around a corner, taking my sanity with it. Twenty-eight minutes left.

Cyrus paces like a caged animal, running his hands through his dark hair. “This is fucking torture. We should be out there already.”

My fingers grip the control panel until my knuckles turn white. Every second that passes is another second Mira moves deeper into the maze, giving her more chances to find hiding spots or form alliances.

Twenty-seven minutes and counting.

The wait might kill me before the hunt even begins.

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