Page 41 of Haunted

The corridor narrows as I approach the final turn, and I can hear her ragged breathing growing more frantic. She’s probably looking around wildly, searching for an escape that doesn’t exist, realizing that every choice she made led her straight into my web.

I round the corner at full speed as she turns back from the dungeon door, her hazel eyes wide with pure terror. The red silk clings to her body as she stumbles backward, but there’s nowhere left to go except?—

She crashes directly into my chest.

The impact sends a jolt of electricity through every nerve ending as her soft curves collide with my hard muscles. Her hands instinctively press against my chest, trying to push away, but I’m immovable.

“Caught you.”

The growl tears from my throat, low and possessive. My hands move to her waist, fingers digging into the silk as I hold her against me. She feels so right pressed against me, her curves fitting exactly where they should.

“No!” The scream rips from her lungs, high and desperate. “Please, I?—”

She tries to wrench herself away, twisting in my grip as panic takes complete control. The desire to toy withher forces me to release her wrist, and she does exactly what I expect.

She retreats.

Straight into my dungeon.

Her feet slide on the polished marble as she stumbles backward through the doorway, the warm, golden light spilling over her terrified features. The red fabric catches the illumination, and I follow her step by step into the space I’ve prepared so carefully.

She’s finally exactly where she belongs.

Right where I want her, so I can claim her properly.

18

MIRA

Ican’t believe I’ve been so monumentally stupid.

I know I should have seen this coming. The maze wasn’t designed to give us a fair chance—it was designed to trap us where the hunters want. And I walked right into it like some naive lamb to slaughter.

The golden light reveals exactly what kind of room I’ve stumbled into, and my stomach drops to my feet.

Leather restraints hang from the ceiling in elegant suspension points, their buckles gleaming like jewelry in the warm light that spills between the shadows of the room. A massive four-poster bed dominates the center of the space, its black silk sheets pristine and waiting. Heavy iron chains are built directly into the stone walls, their links thick enough to hold someone indefinitely.

My eyes dart frantically around the space as Xavier moves closer behind me, his presence a wall of heat and danger at my back.

A padded bench sits against one wall, its surface worn smooth from use. Beside it, an antique armoire stands open to reveal an array of implements—silk blindfolds, leather paddles, ropes in various thicknesses, and things I don’t even want to identify.

“Looking for something?”

Xavier’s voice is pure venom and close enough that I can feel his breath against the nape of my neck. I jerk forward, desperately scanning for any possible reprieve.

There has to be another way out. There has to be.

A collection of candles arranged on a nearby table catches my attention—not for romance, but because the wax has clearly been used for purposes other than illumination. Dark stains mark the stone floor beneath them, and I don’t want to think about what caused those marks.

The walls themselves are lined with hooks and rings, all at different heights, all positioned with clear intent. Even the beautiful Persian rugs scattered across the floor can’t disguise the utilitarian nature of this space.

This is a playground designed for complete control, void of even a whisper of mercy.

My heart hammers against my ribs as I spin in a slow circle, searching every shadow and corner for anything that might offer an escape. The single doorway we entered through seems to be the only way in or out, and Xavier’s massive frame blocks it completely.

“Nowhere to run now, angel.”

Xavier’s voice drips with dark satisfaction as he steps further into the room, and I hear the heavy click of a lockengaging behind him. My pulse spikes as I realize he’s just sealed us in together.