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In the distance, something catches my attention—a branch snapping, too heavy to be wildlife. My pace quickens, heart pounding with exhilaration rather than fear now.

She’s close. I can almost feel her.

As I plunge deeper into the darkness, moonlight dappling the path before me, one thought burns brighter than all others:

The hunt is on.

Chapter 4

Andrew

My first primal play

“Iknow you’re there...”

My voice echoes through the moonlit forest, my breath coming in sharp bursts as I push myself to run faster. Turns out the first heavy branch snapping had been nothing so I turned my attention to other noises in the forest. Now, I’m sure I’m following her.

The sound of her movement ahead—twigs snapping, leaves rustling—pulls me forward like I’m tethered to her. My heart pounds against my ribs, half from exertion, half from the electric thrill of pursuit.

“Vivian... Come here, beautiful...” I call out, softer this time, almost a plea. The forest floor shifts beneath my boots, uneven and treacherous, but nothing could stop me from following her. Not when I’ve waited so long for this moment.

I push myself harder, leaping over a fallen branch, my lungs burning and legs screaming at me. I've been running after her for over twenty minutes and I’m not really a cardio fan. I wanted to do the cool “slow walking” that male characters do in dark romance novels, but… then she’d completely run away from me.

The sounds getting closer—she’s probably slowing down—keep me motivated and running, but I swear I was not prepared for how much I’d have to run. Or how confusing the woods would be at night. But my body hums with anticipation, with the primal excitement of the chase. This isn’t how I had planned it—or how fast it goes in the dark romance novels I read—but fuck, there’s something intoxicating about pursuing her through these woods, about earning what I want.

Then, I see her.

She’s standing in a small clearing, bathed in moonlight that filters through the canopy of trees. Her hands are still bound in front of her, and she’s looking at me with a mixture of defiance and judgment that makes my breath catch. The silver light casts shadows across her face, highlighting those incredible cheekbones, turning her auburn hair into something otherworldly. I’ve seen her under stage lights, under the harsh fluorescents of the venue, but here—illuminated by nothing but the moon—she’s fucking ethereal.

I slow my approach, suddenly aware of how wild I must look—hair disheveled, chest heaving, body dripping in sweat and eyes probably as feral as I feel.

“Vivian.” I breathe her name like a prayer.

She narrows those green eyes at me, then deliberately kicks a rock in my direction. It skitters across the ground, stopping just short of my boots. Before I can react, she turns and bolts, disappearing into the trees.

“Oh, you’re making this chase all the more exciting, Vivian!” I call after her, a grin spreading across my face underneath the mask. This wasn’t in any of the novels I’ve read—this improvisation, this long game of cat and mouse, and the stare down she gave me. But fuck me if it isn’t making my blood sing.

I take off after her, following the flash of her orange shirt through the trees. She’s fast—must be those cross-country running legs I remember from high school. The thought that she’s using skills from our shared past to evade me now sends a strange thrill through my chest.

“I can do this all night, cariad,” I shout, the loving nickname slipping out without thought. “But the longer you run, the more I’ll—FUCK!”

Maybe I can’t do this all night. My stamina sucks after what is now half an hour of intense running after playing an hour and a half of a rock concert. And I clearly can’t see a thing in the dark, like right now. Worse yet, this mask is annoying the fuck out of me.

Something buzzes past my ear, and I swat at it instinctively—another fucking bug. Christ, I hate them—and in that split second of distraction, my foot catches on an exposed root. I go down hard, my hands barely breaking my fall as I hit the forest floor. The mask falls from my face, the flimsy elastic not holding to my head, and the mask goes bouncing to the side. Pain shoots up from my palms as I get a mouthful of dirt and decaying leaves.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I mutter, scrambling back to my feet, spitting out forest debris. I scan the trees frantically. No sign of her. No flash of orange, no sound of movement. “Vivian?”

Silence. My heart rate spikes with something that isn’t excitement anymore.

Did she get too far ahead? Did she find the road? Is someone else out here? I can’t have someone else seeing this and taking it all out of context.

I get up and move forward, following the direction she was heading, my eyes straining in the darkness. “Vivian?” I call again, louder this time, a hint of genuine worry creeping into my voice.

Then I see it—a sudden drop in the terrain, hidden by the undergrowth. I stop just short of the edge, my boots skidding on loose dirt. Below is a steep slope that leads down to the river that cuts through these woods. And at the bottom, a crumpled form in an orange shirt.

My blood turns to ice. No. No. No.

“Vivian, are you okay?”