Page 71 of Prey

“Well, shit. Nik’s officially lost his mind over pussy, must be golden.”

“Fuck all of you.” But there’s no real heat in the words.

“Have fun with your month-long sexcation,” Darius says cheerfully. “Try not to actually break her brain. Crazy women are fun; vegetative women are boring.”

“I’ll handle the Hendricks execution,” Raphael offers. “You focus on your… project.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Send pictures,” Theon calls out.

“Fuck off.”

I end the call and pocket the phone, my attention returning to Jenna. She’s awake now, those pale gray-green eyes shift to the observation window. Even through the one-way glass, she seems to sense me.

A month. Thirty days to dismantle her psychological defenses and rebuild her as someone who belongs entirely to me.

My cock hardens as I imagine her naked in the forest, running desperately through the trees while I hunt her down. The moment I tackle her to the ground, pin her beneath me, and claim her in the dirt with nothing but moonlight as witness.

She’ll fight at first. Her body will struggle even as it responds. But I’ll take her again and again in the wilderness until sheassociates being hunted with being filled. Until the sound of my footsteps tracking her makes her wet with anticipation rather than terror.

And when I finally plant my child inside her, when her belly swells with proof of my ownership, she’ll understand that she was always meant to be mine.

I press my palm flat against the glass and imagine her naked and pregnant, begging me to hunt her through the woods one more time.

One month to make that fantasy reality.

I push off from the window and head toward her door to her cell. Time to begin her real education.

25

JENNA

Istare at the supplies he’s left for me like they’re venomous snakes. The running shoes are my exact size. He’s probably measured every inch of my body while I was unconscious. The athletic wear looks expensive and is designed for performance. The canteen is military-grade, built to last.

The note sits on top, written in a careful, precise handwriting that makes my skin crawl and my pulse quicken simultaneously.

You have a two-hour head start. When I catch you, I breed you where you fall. Run, beautiful.

This is hisconditioning. I recognize the technique from studying predator psychology during my weeks hunting collectors. Turn the victim’s survival responses into sexual triggers. Make escape attempts into foreplay. Transform the prey’s natural instincts into tools of submission.

And my traitor of a pussy is already responding to it.

I move to the small window, pressing my face against the reinforced glass. The compound stretches out in all directions—dense Wisconsin forest broken by clearings and what looks like a lake in the distance. Rolling hills covered in pine and oak createnatural barriers. I spot what might be a service road cutting through the trees to the east, but it’s at least two miles away.

He knows this terrain already. He’s not offering me a chance at escape—it’s elaborate theater with my body as the stage.

But waiting in this cell for him to decide when and how to break me isn’t an option either. At least running gives me movement and a physical outlet. It gives me agency, even if it’s just an illusion that I have some control over what happens next.

I pull on the athletic wear. The fabric is soft against my skin, a moisture-wicking material that will keep me dry during exertion. Even his choice of outfit is tactical—keeping me comfortable enough to run longer, making the chase more satisfying for him.

The sports bra fits perfectly. The shorts hug my hips like they were tailored for me. I lace up the running shoes, surprised by how well they conform to my feet.

I’m getting wet thinking about how carefully he’s planned this. How much thought he’s put into every aspect. How thoroughly he intends to possess me.

The electronic lock clicks open with a soft beep. I freeze, staring at the door that’s held me prisoner for a few days. Now it’s an invitation. A starting line.

Two hours. That’s what he’s given me. Time to get deep enough into the wilderness that the chase will be worth his while. Far enough that when he catches me, we’ll be alone with nothing but trees and sky as witnesses to whatever he plans to do to my body.