Page 32 of Run Little Fawn

He doesn't answer, his gaze locked with mine in a silent battle of wills. And then, a slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face, a predator's grin that sends a shiver down my spine.

"Would you like to make the game a little more interesting?" he purrs, his voice like silk and sin.

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "How?"

He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. "You should already know, since I've caught you twice now in a matter of days. The rest of the hunts will pass quickly. You don't stand a chance."

My heart sinks, a cold realization settling in the pit of my stomach. He's right. I'm no match for him, for the resources and skills at his disposal. But before I can dwell on the hopelessness of my situation, he speaks again.

"But I can help. Give you techniques that will make you a more adept prey."

I pull back, searching his face for any sign of deceit. "And why would you do that?"

His lips curve into a smirk, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "For one thing, it would be more entertaining for me."

I let out a humorless laugh, the absurdity of the situation not lost on me. Here I am, sitting across from the man who's hunting me, discussing ways to make the game more exciting for him.

But what choice do I have? If he's offering me a chance, no matter how slim, I'd be a fool not to take it.

"Alright," I say, my voice steady despite the fear churning in my gut. "What did you have in mind?"

He leans back, his fingers still drumming on the tablecloth. "First, you need to learn to blend in. To disappear in plain sight. The key is to become forgettable, just another face in the crowd."

I nod, my mind already racing with possibilities. "And how do I do that?"

"Change your appearance. Your hair, your clothes, your mannerisms. Become someone else entirely."

It makes sense, in a twisted sort of way. If I can't outrun him, maybe I can outsmart him. Become a chameleon, slipping in and out of identities like a second skin.

It also confirms my suspicions that he's been hiding in plain sight before. That all the times I've felt like he was another face in the crowd weren't just my imagination.

"And then what?" I ask.

His eyes glitter with a dark intensity, a promise of things to come. "Then, you run. And you never look back."

His offer hangs in the air between us, a lifeline that I'm not sure I should grasp. My mind races with questions, doubts, and a nagging sense of suspicion. Why would he help me? What does he stand to gain from this?

Is it really that he wants to make things more "interesting"?

I meet his gaze, searching for any hint of deception, but his eyes remain inscrutable, a stormy gray that reveals nothing.

"Won't you get in trouble with the Order for helping me?" I ask.

A flicker of amusement crosses his face, his lips curving into a smirk. "They won't know."

My brow furrows in confusion. "How can you be so sure?"

He leans back in his chair, his posture relaxed, almost nonchalant. "I haven't reported that I found you yet, and the second hunt is over."

The revelation sends a jolt through me, a mix of surprise and unease. "Why?"

His gaze intensifies, a smoldering heat that threatens to consume me. "I wanted to give you time to consider my offer."

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "And if I refuse?"

He shrugs, a casual gesture that belies the gravity of the situation. "Then I'll have no choice but to continue the Hunt as is. But if you accept, I can pretend you gave me the slip for a day or so. While I train you."

The offer is tempting, a chance to even the playing field, to gain some semblance of control in a game where the odds are stacked against me.

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