Page 56

HALLIE

A branch snaps under my boot.

I freeze.

The air shifts around me. My hand instinctively clicks off the flashlight. The cabin is just ahead. Close enough to taste.

But there’s a prickle crawling up my spine, a whisper behind me that doesn’t belong to the wind. I don’t know if it’s paranoia or instinct screaming, but I press myself to the tree beside me and hold my breath, eyes locked on the cabin like it's my salvation.

Just one more sprint.

I launch forward.

The scream tears from me as something slams into the backs of my legs, sending me crashing down into the dirt. My palms sting. My knees burn. I brace, heart racing, waiting for another blow… but it doesn’t come.

One eye cracks open.

She’s there. But then I see him , standing behind her. Towering. A shadow carved in armor and menace.

“P-please. I wasn’t going to kill her.” Her voice breaks like glass.

I don’t flinch. I have no pity. The bitch tried to end me.

“Weapons are forbidden. You broke the rules. Now you must pay the consequences.” His voice is like gravel and steel, thick with an American drawl, distorted by the mask stretched over his face.

I scramble backwards, watching in horror as he grips her and drags her into the darkness.

As soon as they vanish, I bolt for the cabin, fingers trembling as I fumble with the flashlight.

Then her screams cut through the night.

A gunshot follows.

And my entire body turns to ice.

My breath staggers. My bones quake. This isn’t a twisted prank or some sadistic simulation. This is real .

I yank the key from my bra, shoving the flashlight between my lips, hands shaking so badly I nearly drop it. The moment the lock clicks and the door swings open, a wave of relief slams into me so hard I almost sob.

But that relief dies the second the light flickers on.

Another man stands in the corner of the room.

Massive.

Silent.

Just like the guy from outside.

His black t-shirt stretches over stacked muscle, arms relaxed at his sides—but his pistol is gripped, visible and ready. His face is hidden behind a matte black mask, and his dark eyes drill into mine, unblinking.

My feet are locked to the floor.

To the left, a steel bath glistens, packed with ice. To the right, a narrow wooden structure—like a sauna, barely big enough for one. Center of the room: a table. On it, a deep green box and a white envelope, clean and waiting.

My legs carry me forward before I tell them to.

I lift the lid.

My breath stutters.

Inside, a slim green wearable vibrator. Next to it, a butt plug and a small tube of water-based lube.

“What the fuck…” I whisper.

Glancing at the guard, he hasn’t moved. He’s just watching. Does he expect to watch me use them? Or worse…make me?

I swallow back the nausea clawing up my throat and shove the box aside, ripping open the envelope with trembling fingers.

Welcome to Cabin Six.

Here, your challenge is to survive the extremes. If you look up at the wall, you’ll see a timer. Every element of this challenge is timed. First you must insert both toys to start the games.

Remember, this isn’t just about staying alive. It’s about being able to get off on survival.

These have remote access. I will know if they have been put in correctly. Don’t try and beat the system. The punishment will be elimination.

Once you have completed that, you are required to do the Ice Bath Challenge first.

You must simply submerge yourself in the ice water and sit there for two minutes.

The timer will go off when you have completed this.

Then, you shall test your tolerance to heat while dealing with some internal heat.

A test of endurance, strength, and orgasms. You will give me your climax in return for your freedom from the heat. Only once I see you cum will the doors be opened.

You may use your safe word at any time, with the consequence of being eliminated.

You can choose to not take part in the challenge—again, you will be eliminated.

Keep an eye on the clock.

Should you wish to partake, please instruct your guard to leave while you insert them. That will begin your game.

I look forward to seeing you soon.

Love,

The Hunter of Inferno.

The paper falls from my hands.

My jaw drops. A scream lodges somewhere between disbelief and dread.

Above me, the timer flashes. Thirty seconds and counting down.

What?

I grab the toys. My heart slams against my ribs. I can’t seriously be expected to—? This ?

Two million dollars or death, Hallie.

The guard clears his throat.

Five seconds.

“You can go,” I say, breathless.

He nods once, turns, and shuts the door behind him with a sound that feels like finality.

I let out a strangled breath, using the table to hold myself upright. My eyes sting. But I won’t cry. I won’t fucking cry.

The timer resets—now two minutes.

To insert the toys.

Jesus Christ.

The lube slips from my grip, landing on the table with a pathetic splat.

My hands won’t stop shaking. I force myself to try again, coating my fingers with it and slicking the vibrator.

I glance at every corner of the room. No cameras.

But I feel watched . Like the guard left his shadow behind to haunt the space.

I drag the chair over, plant my foot, and push my lace bodysuit to the side.

The moment the vibrator pushes inside, I hiss.

“Fuck!”

My walls clench, but I keep breathing, forcing my muscles to relax. Once it’s seated, I adjust the angle so the top rests over my clit.

It doesn’t vibrate.

It just exists—and it’s all I can feel.

I glance at the timer. One minute left.

I pick up the butt plug next and lube it thoroughly. My throat tightens.

It’s been a while. Not since I saw Conan’s dick and wondered if he’d ever want to do ass play, and if so, how badly that would hurt.

A tear slips free.

I wish I could tell him. I wish he knew what was happening to me. That he could come crashing in, wrapping his arms around me and promising it’s all going to be okay.

Just once more. That’s all I need.

But this pain reminds me what I’m fighting for.

Conan. Bertie. Lily.

So I bend. One hand pulls myself open. The other positions. I exhale slowly and let the plug slip inside, picturing Conan—his Irish lilt coaxing me through it, his voice steady and low, calling me his good girl.

His green eyes, fierce and gentle.

I stand and shift, making sure everything’s in place. Then I re-adjust the bodysuit.

Ten seconds left.

I bolt to the door and yank it open.

“Done,” I whisper.

He enters, silent.

Not a single word.

His footsteps are heavy but unhurried, boots sinking into the wooden floor as he returns to his post in the corner of the room. Watching.

Always watching.

I force my eyes away from him and turn to the bath.

The ice gleams under the overhead light, glittering and sharp. Almost mocking me.

I move toward it, every step slower than the last, as if my body is already grieving what it’s about to endure. The water is full to the brim, surface still, waiting like a predator with teeth made of frost.

The timer on the wall flashes again.

ICE BATH INITIATED: 2:00

It starts the moment I lower my foot over the edge. The sting is instant, like knives slicing open my skin. My gasp echoes too loud into the silence.

I hesitate. Just for a heartbeat.

Then I grip the edges and plunge.

The cold is violent.

It punches the air from my lungs and rips a scream from my throat, muffled behind clenched teeth. My body tries to escape. To thrash, to run, to crawl out of the frost—but I stay.

I stay. I want to survive.

My thighs cramp as I force them beneath the surface. My teeth chatter uncontrollably. My arms pull tighter to my chest, but it does nothing. There is no warmth. Only burn.

The kind of pain that feels like death in slow motion.

I look up.

He’s still there.

Still silent.

Still watching.

His arms are folded now. The pistol still resting in one hand, casual as if he’s done this a thousand times. His dark eyes behind that black mask don’t waver. He doesn’t move.

And that somehow makes it worse.

Because I’m completely alone. Naked in the ways that count. Drenched in agony, holding myself together while some stranger stares like I’m a science experiment.

The first thirty seconds crawl by like molasses. I count my breaths to keep from screaming. Every nerve screams. My nipples are pebbled and burning beneath the thin lace of the bodysuit. My skin pulses with pain.

Forty-five seconds.

Tears burn at the corners of my eyes.

My fingers have gone stiff, fists clenched beneath the water. My toes feel like they’re splintering.

I want to quit. God, I want to get out.

But I can still hear her scream.

And the gunshot.

And I know—if I leave this bath before it ends, I won’t just be cold.

I’ll be dead.

Sixty seconds.

I grit my teeth until my jaw aches, pressing my palms against my thighs to keep them from shaking. My body wants to shut down. Go numb.

It doesn’t.

It just hurts.

Ninety seconds.

I make the mistake of looking at him again. He tilts his head slightly, studying me like I’m being graded. Not cruel. Not kind.

Just… a man who’s seen this before. Who’s waiting to see if I’ll break.

I won’t.

I can’t.

Not when there’s so much more on the line than just my life.

Conan. He is my fire in this frost.

One hundred seconds.

I feel nothing now. Not in a good way. My skin is red and splotched and going pale at the edges. My mind starts to drift, dizzy from the ache.

But then?—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The alarm sounds overhead.

I’ve done it.

Two minutes.

I gasp as I launch upward, sloshing water and ice over the sides of the tub, slipping against the metal rim as my feet fumble for purchase. My lungs seize from the sudden movement, my body shrieking in protest as I climb out.

I collapse to the wooden floor, my limbs shuddering, my breath ragged.

My lips are blue.

My fingers refuse to close.

But I’m alive.

I did it.

I glance toward him, expecting a nod, a word, something.

But he doesn’t move.

Just watches.

Still.

As I lie there, shivering, frozen, and burning all at once, I realize…

This was only the beginning.