Page 19 of Prey

He tilts his head slightly. Above the mask, his eyes narrow—not in anger but in what looks like interest. Like I’ve done something unexpected.

He steps into the room. The door swings shut behind him with a soft pneumatic hiss.

“You’re my acquisition.” His voice is deep, modulated through the mask. “You belong to me now.”

I press back against the wall without meaning to.

“No one knows where you are.” He moves closer. “No one is coming for you.”

The distance between us shrinks. Six feet. Five. Four. He stops just outside of lunging range—mine, not his. Like he’s calculated exactly how far I could move.

“You’ll be fed and kept healthy. Your basic needs will be met.” His eyes track down my body, then back up. The movement is clinical, assessing. A current that makes my skin prickle. “In return, you’ll cooperate.”

“Cooperate with what?”

He tilts his head again. “Everything.”

My breath catches. “How long?”

“As long as I want you.”

The mask makes it impossible to read his expression, but his body tells its own story. He leans forward when he speaks to me, hands flexing at his sides as if he’s stopping himself from reaching for me. The controlled but not quite steady cadence of his breath.

“I’m not—” I start, but he cuts me off by moving within three feet of me. Close enough that I can smell his sharp, winter air scent.

“You are.” His gaze drops to my neck. “You’ve been mine since I started watching you. Eleven days of following your patterns and watching your security checks.”

My stomach drops. Eleven days. Eleven days and I didn’t feel his eyes on me. Yesterday was the first time I had that crawling sensation I couldn’t shake.

“The pharmacy schedule. The walk variations. The way you never let anyone close enough to matter.” He’s close enough now that I have to tip my head back to maintain eye contact. “All of it led here.”

His hand lifts. I tense, but he simply gestures at the room.

“This is your world now. These walls. This space. Me.”

The last word comes out rough, almost strangled. His pupils are dilated, turning the pale blue dark. He’s looking at me like I’m someone he’s been starving for.

“Why me?” The question comes out before I can stop it.

Above the mask, a flicker crosses his expression. “You fit the parameters.”

“Bullshit.” I’ve seen that look before—not on him, but I know what desire looks like when it’s trying to hide. “You don’t watch someone for eleven days because they fit parameters.”

His stillness changes. Before, it was controlled. Now it’s the stillness that comes right before violence.

But he doesn’t move or strike, simply watches me.

“You took others before me.” Not a question... “So I’m just one more. Routine.”

“Yes.” But his voice catches on the word, and his hands flex again at his sides.

“You were hard when you took me.” I watch his chest stop mid-breath. “Do you usually get hard?.”

“Careful,” he warns.

But I can’t stop now. Because I need to understand this, I need to find the crack in whatever system he’s built around himself. “Eleven days? You could have taken me on the first day. But you watched. You learned things about me that have nothing to do with…” I gesture at the room. “Whatever this is supposed to be.”

He moves so fast I don’t have time to flinch. His hand slams against the wall beside my head, his body caging mine without touching.