Page 232 of Trick or Stalk

For one ridiculous second, I think about the mask. The bookstore. Being chased between shelves. A gloved hand around my waist.

I push the memory away.

“What are you asking?”

Hades steps closer. Close enough that I have to tilt my head back.

His voice drops. “I'm asking whether you'd run.”

My heart slams against my ribs. “From you?”

“Yes.”

I stare at him.

He's serious.

“You want me to run from you?”

His expression darkens. “I want you to decide whether you want to run from me.”

Everything inside me stills.

Because there’s a difference.

The Masked Man didn't ask.

He appeared. He chased. He decided.

And as fucked up as it is, I liked parts of it.

But this⁠—

Hades is standing in front of me. No mask. No distorted voice. No darkness hiding his face.

And he's asking.

Giving me the choice.

My pulse pounds harder. “What happens if I say no?”

“We keep walking.”

“That's it?”

“That's it.”

“And if I say yes?”

His eyes drag slowly over me. “Then you run.”

I swallow. “And you?”

“I catch you.”

My thighs clench. He didn’t say chase. He said catch.

Fuck.