Page 6 of Unholy Vows

Layla

I t had been three days since I’d posted on The Wild Hunt.

My nerves were frayed, and I was constantly second-guessing myself.

Had I done the right thing? What if the man behind the screen was dangerous? What would Margot think? Jess?

Despite my reservations, however, I couldn’t stop myself from obsessively checking my phone. I continually scanned the website to see if he’d left any further posts.

His boldness had both startled and intrigued me. He spoke with the confidence of a man who had already won. There was no doubt in his mind that I’d pick him.

He hadn’t asked; he’d demanded.

Then… nothing.

His silence had unsettled me. Was this just part of his game? Was he testing me, seeing how long I could go before losing patience? I wanted to message him. Demand that he either live up to his cocky online persona or bow out of the chase.

But my pride wouldn’t allow me to.

And now, the waiting was unraveling me.

My phone vibrated in my hand, and I jumped, dropping it to the floor.

My hands trembled as I retrieved it. When I unlocked the device, there was no message, no instructions, just a pin drop on the map.

Crescent Moon Cemetery.

It was on the outskirts of the city, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

“That wasn’t ominous or anything.”

Doubt gnawed at my gut, and I hesitated.

I stared at the screen as a shiver raced down my spine.

What kind of person sets a meet at a cemetery…

at night? The location alone sent alarms blaring in my mind.

Was that symbolic? A warning? Had my reckless curiosity unknowingly invited death into my midst?

I chewed on my bottom lip, my teeth sinking in hard enough to sting as I contemplated my choices. The logical part of me told me to forget about it, to delete my profile, and to walk away before it was too late.

That voice faded beneath the whisper telling me I’d come too far to stop now.

Every instinct in my body told me this was a mistake. And yet, my fingers twitched with the urge to snap up my keys.

Before I could overthink it, I pulled on my leather jacket, grabbed my keys, and headed for the door.

My footsteps echoed around me as I bounded down the stairwell toward the garage.

The early evening air had a slight chill to it, and I was grateful that I had thought to grab my jacket.

The familiar weight of the keys in my hand gave me a small sense of stability that helped to settle my racing pulse.

As I expected, the car park was empty. Hardly anyone in the complex drove. When I reached my red Honda, I opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat. I exhaled slowly and then gripped the wheel as I started the engine.

I was doing this.

A soft hum filled the small interior, and with one last glance at the exit leading back upstairs, I reversed out of my parking space.

The sky had turned a deep purple by the time I pulled onto the busy streets of Boston. Night crept in, smothering the last remnants of twilight. Streetlights flickered on as I passed them before they disappeared entirely, replaced by open fields and empty roads.

Leaving the city’s chaos behind always felt liberating. The impatient honk of a horn, the blur of neon signs, and the crowded sidewalks all faded into the background the farther I drove from the city limits.

However, the closer I came to my destination, the more frantic my heartbeat became. My grip tightened around the steering wheel, and my knuckles turned white as I forced myself to take deep, steadying breaths.

It didn’t help that the cemetery wasn’t just outside the city; it was practically in the wilderness. The asphalt roads had long since given way to dirt ones that had more potholes than solid ground. I flicked on my blinker, swallowing hard as I turned onto the last stretch of road.

By the time I arrived at the cemetery, my pulse was pounding.

An enormous iron archway loomed ahead, and for a moment I just sat there, gripping the steering wheel as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

Then I drove forward, the crunch of gravel beneath my tires the only sound punctuating the stillness.

There were no cars. No other signs of life. It was only me and the souls of those long since departed.

I turned off the engine, plunging the car into eerie silence. My hands shook as I reached for the doorknob. I hesitated, scanning my surroundings, half-expecting to see movement among the tombstones. But there was nothing. Just rows of granite and marble, standing like silent sentinels.

My boots sank into the damp ground as I stepped out of my car. The night was bitter, and I pulled my jacket around me to ward off the chill. I glanced toward the headstones, and I shuddered. They were barely visible under the faint moonlight. And yet, I couldn’t look away.

The entire scene set my nerves on edge, and my inner voice screamed at me to run.

“Savage Hunter?”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I cringed.

I didn’t even know the man’s name.

There was no answer, and disappointment crept over me as I wandered further into the cemetery.

Each step felt heavier than the last as my uncertainty pressed down on me.

A gust of wind rattled the nearby trees, their skeletal branches clawing at the sky.

I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself.

Maybe this was a joke. Maybe he never planned to show up.

But then, why send the pin? Was this some elaborate mind game?

I was afraid, terrified even, but the thrill of the unknown was also intoxicating. The heady mix of excitement and fear was what I craved. It was why I was here.

The faint rustle of leaves caught my attention, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. At first, all I saw were long shadows stretching beneath the moonlight.

But then my vision cleared, and my eyes narrowed on a mass of darkness that stood out against the rest.

My breathing hitched, and I stiffened.

It was him.