Page 11

CHAPTER 11

Raven

"You look like you’re about to puke."

I turn toward the voice and find a redhead standing beside me, hugging her arms around herself like she’s trying to keep warm. Her green eyes flick to the torches lining the clearing before shifting back to me.

“I’m not,” I say automatically, even though I kind of am.

She doesn’t look convinced. “If you say so.”

The clearing is bigger than I expected, an open stretch of dirt and grass surrounded by thick trees. The torches barely push back the dark, and there’s a weird, charged energy in the air—like the whole place is waiting for something. The Lambs, all dressed in white, stand in loose clusters, masks tucked under their arms, exchanging nervous glances.

The Gods stand apart, silent. Watching.

My grip tightens on my mask as I scan the figures in black. Most of them are unreadable, just shadows in the firelight. But then there’s him .

Malakai.

He’s leaning against a tree, arms crossed, black mask catching the light. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak—just watches. And not in the way the others do. They’re surveying the group like hunters sizing up their prey. Malakai’s already chosen his.

I rip my gaze away before he can catch me staring again.

“I’m Erica, by the way,” the redhead says, breaking the silence.

“Raven.”

“Lamb number whatever,” another voice chimes in. A taller girl with dark hair saunters up to us, grinning like this is actually some kind of game. “We’re all just meat to them anyway, right?”

Erica winces. “That’s... not helping.”

The girl shrugs. “Relax. It’s just a hunt. A bunch of guys playing at being wolves.” She flicks her eyes toward the Gods, her smirk growing. “Some of us don’t mind being caught.”

Erica sighs. “She’s Lena. She’s insane.”

Lena winks. “And proud of it.”

The sound comes out of nowhere—a deep, guttural horn that rips through the stillness. The energy in the clearing shifts instantly, like someone just pulled a trigger.

The Gods straighten, their masks gleaming under the torchlight.

The Lambs hesitate.

Then someone bolts into the trees.

The rest of us follow.

I shove my mask on as I run, the cool material molding to my face. My dress snags against my legs, slowing me down, but I push forward, trying to ignore the whoops and shouts echoing from behind.

Somewhere in the distance, a girl screams.

I don’t know if it’s fear or excitement.

Erica is struggling to keep up, breath ragged. “Why—why did I sign up for this?”

Lena laughs, barely winded. “Because you love me.”

“This was your idea!”

“You’re welcome.”

I don’t bother joining in. My pulse is too loud in my ears, my feet pounding against the uneven ground. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be hunted . But I can’t back out now.

The game has started.

The trees close in fast, branches whipping against my arms. The torchlight disappears behind us, leaving only the dim glow of the moon to guide our way. The air smells like damp earth, and every snapping twig sounds like a threat.

Erica stumbles, catching herself against a tree. “I can’t—I need?—”

“Come on,” I urge, grabbing her wrist. “We can’t stop.”

But the sounds are getting closer. The steady, heavy thuds of boots against the ground. Someone is right behind us .

Lena is grinning. “Showtime.”

Then she disappears, tackled to the ground with a sharp oof . I only catch a glimpse of her as she’s dragged away, laughing. “Took you long enough ? —”

And then she’s gone.

Erica freezes. “Raven—” Before I can understand what made her look so shocked, she shoves me forward and screams, “Run!”

That's when I sprint.

Leaves crunch. Breath hitches. Footsteps—too close.

Then— impact .

A solid arm wraps around my waist, yanking me back. My feet leave the ground.

I kick, thrash, but it’s like fighting against a goddamn wall. A deep chuckle vibrates against my skin, and I know .

“Not a chance, Lamb,” Malakai murmurs.

Panic claws at my ribs. “Put me the fu ck down!*”

Another laugh. Low. Amused. Dark.

“Not happening.”

Then I’m over his shoulder, his grip unshakable, and the night swallows us whole.

I struggle, twisting and kicking, but Malakai doesn’t budge. His arm stays locked around my waist, keeping me slung over his shoulder like I’m nothing more than a stolen prize.

"You're an asshole ," I snap, pounding my fists against his back.

He only laughs, the sound rumbling against my body like I’m part of the joke. “And you’re slow. You really thought you could outrun me?”

I’m breathing hard, my limbs sore from running and now from fighting against his grip. “You didn’t have to tackle me, you psycho.”

Malakai shifts me slightly, adjusting his hold like I’m a bag of damn flour. “Where’s the fun in that?”

I grit my teeth, my face burning with frustration. "This is so fucked up. What even happens now? You take me back to the clearing and everyone claps for you?"

Malakai stops walking. For a second, the silence stretches between us, thick and weighted. Then he chuckles—low, dark, like he’s savoring something just for himself.

"You really don’t know, do you?"

A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the cool night air. "Know what ?"

Instead of answering, he starts moving again, his pace slow, deliberate. Like he wants me to feel how helpless I am.

“We’re not going back to the clearing, Lamb.”

My stomach drops.

I push against his back again, more desperate this time. "Alex said this was just a game!"

"Alex says a lot of things," Malakai muses, unbothered.

My breath comes faster now, panic licking at the edges of my mind. "Where the hell are you taking me?"

He squeezes my thigh—just once, a warning. "You’ll see."

The forest grows darker as we leave the sounds of the hunt behind. The laughter and shouts fade, swallowed by the night. It’s just the two of us now.

And I have no idea what’s waiting for me.

The trees thin out after a few more minutes of Malakai carrying me like I weigh nothing. My struggling has stopped—not because I want to, but because it’s fucking pointless. He’s stronger, bigger, in control.

But my mind? My mind is racing.

What does he mean, we’re not going back?

I try to steady my breathing, forcing myself to think instead of just react. Maybe he’s messing with me. Maybe this is just part of the act.

But when I look up, my blood runs cold.

Up ahead, a building looms, half-swallowed by the trees and wrapped in vines. It’s old—brick crumbling, windows shattered, like something left behind and forgotten. The kind of place people don’t go willingly.

A sick feeling settles in my gut. “What is this place?”

Malakai finally stops walking, his grip tightening just slightly before he shifts me off his shoulder. My feet hit the ground, but before I can bolt, he grabs my wrist. Hard.

I glare up at him, but it’s useless. His mask is still on, making it impossible to read his expression. But I can imagine his green eyes burning with the expectation of something dangerous. He thrives on danger, after all.

“This,” he murmurs, gesturing to the building, “is where the fun really starts.”

I yank my arm, but his grip doesn’t loosen. “This isn’t part of the game, Malakai.”

He tilts his head, considering. “Who told you that?”

My stomach knots.

Alex.

I don’t answer, and Malakai steps closer, his body blocking out the rest of the world.

“You signed the contract,” he reminds me, voice low, smooth. “No complaints now.”

The realization hits me like a slap. That contract—those lines about injury and death—weren’t just legal fluff.

Malakai takes off his mask and gives me that slow, arrogant smirk like he can see the exact moment it all clicks.

Then he pulls open the heavy door, darkness yawning beyond it.

“Inside, Lamb.”

I don’t move.

His fingers slide up my arm, trailing to my jaw, tilting my chin up so I have to meet his gaze.

"Don’t make me carry you again ," he says, all dark amusement.

I hate him.

But I step inside.

And the door slams shut behind us.