Page 87 of Stalked

There's something immediately likable about her directness. “You read my mind.”

We find a quiet corner table, and I notice the fluid way she moves.

“I've been in Ravenwood about a year,” Keira explains, stirring her tea. “Choreographing for some high-end clubs. That’s how I got invited.”

“How are you... after everything?” I ask.

Her expression shifts. “Processing. It was intense being hunted by two brothers.” She studies me. “What about you? Word is you and Vane have history.”

I laugh softly. “That's one way to put it. Fifteen years of history condensed into seventy-two hours of...” I trail off.

“Reckoning?” Keira suggests with a knowing smile. “Listen, there's a bar around the corner that makes killer martinis. What do you say we continue this conversation somewhere we can feel a little more comfortable talking about what happened?”

“You know what? That sounds perfect,” I say, draining the last of my coffee. “After what we've been through, I think we've earned a drink, even if it's barely noon.”

Keira grins, and we gather our things. The short walk to the bar gives me time to adjust to being out in the world again after the intensity of the Hunt. Everything feels strangely normal—people walking to lunch meetings, checking phones, living ordinary lives—while I'm vibrating with the aftershocks of how drastically my life has changed.

The bar is dimly lit and nearly empty this early. We slide into a booth in the corner, and a bartender approaches with a raised eyebrow.

“Two dirty martinis,” Keira orders. “Extra olives.”

When he walks away, she leans forward. “So, you seemed to know exactly what you were doing in there. Most of us were terrified, but you walked through that maze like you owned it.”

I trace the condensation on the water glass. “I had experience from The Red Room in New York. But also... I knew who was coming for me.”

The bartender returns with our drinks, and I take a sip, welcoming the burn.

“And?” Keira asks. “Do you still feel that confident now that it's over? I’m still trying to process what happened.”

“Honestly?” I swirl the olive in my glass. “I loved every second of it. Being hunted, being caught, being claimed—it was exactly what I expected.” I take another sip. “Maybe better.”

“Even with the audience? The orgy room was...”

“Intense,” I finish for her. “But yes, even that. Maybe especially that.”

Keira studies me with curious eyes. “You and Vane have history—that much was obvious. But there's more to it, isn't there?”

I nod, feeling my face flush slightly. “He was my first in high school, and then I ran. I've been running ever since.”

“Until now,” she says, raising her glass.

I clink my glass against hers. “To surviving dangerous men,” I state.

Keira takes a long sip of her martini, her eyes studying me over the rim of her glass. “So what happens now? After all that running, all that waiting—the Hunt is over. You're claimed.”

“We move in together,” I say, surprising myself with how easily the words come. “After these years of distance, now there's... nothing between us. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once.”

“Tell me about it,” Keira laughs, touching the mark on her collarbone. “Try having two men planning your future. Ace and Cyrus have very... specific ideas about our arrangement.”

I lean forward, curious. “What's that like? Being claimed by two brothers?”

“Complicated,” she says, twirling the olive in her glass. “They function as a unit, two halves of the same whole. But they're so different—Ace is very controlling, while Cyrus burns hotter, more volatile. Together they're...” She trails off, a flush creeping up her neck.

“Overwhelming?” I suggest.

“Perfectly balanced,” she corrects. “Like they were designed to complement each other—and somehow, I fit between them.” She shakes her head. “What about Vane? The whole Hunt, he looked at you like you were the only woman who existed.”

I feel warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with the alcohol. “He's been obsessed with me since we were teenagers.”