Page 33 of Run Little Fawn

But still, the question nags at me, refusing to be silenced. "Why are you doing this, Lucian? What's in it for you?"

He leans forward, his elbows resting on the table, his face mere inches from mine. "More entertaining prey. I want an answer, Aria. Will you accept my help or not?"

The intensity of his gaze, the heat of his breath against my skin, sends a shiver down my spine.

I know I should refuse, that accepting his offer means playing right into his hands.

But what choice do I really have? If I run now, he'll catch me, and the game will be over before it's even begun.

"Alright," I whisper, my voice trembling slightly. "I'll do it."

A slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face, a predator's grin that sets my heart racing. "Excellent choice, little fawn."

The endearment sends a flutter through my stomach, a mix of fear and something else, something I'm not quite ready to name. He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against mine, a feather-light touch that sends sparks racing up my arm.

"And don't think I've forgotten about the other part of the game," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "I still intend to collect what's mine."

The implication hangs heavy in the air, a promise and a threat all at once. I know what he means, what he wants from me. My body, my surrender, a prize to be claimed at the end of this twisted hunt.

Part of me recoils at the thought, the idea of being nothing more than a trophy, a conquest to be won.

But another part, a darker, more primal part, feels differently.

Much differently.

I meet his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest, my skin flushed with a heat that has nothing to do with the wine. "I haven't forgotten either," I whisper, my voice barely audible over the rush of blood in my ears.

His smile widens, a flash of white teeth against tanned skin. "Good. Because I intend to savor every moment of our little game."

"And yet, you didn't before in the woods," I say, frowning. "Why?"

He pauses, as if he's considering it. "I wanted you to beg for it."

I stare at him blankly, realizing he's serious. With a strained laugh, I ask, "And you think I will? Beg you to take me?"

"I know you will," he corrects me with the confidence only a complete psychopath in his position can muster.

With that, he rises from the table, his movements fluid and graceful. Like a fucking panther. He extends his hand, an invitation and a challenge all at once.

I hesitate for a moment, the weight of my decision pressing down on me like a physical force. But in the end, I know I have no choice.

I place my hand in his, his fingers closing around mine in a grip that is both gentle and unyielding.

As he leads me from the restaurant and toward my hotel room—he knows the number already, I'm sure of that—I realize this round is going my way after all.

More than I ever anticipated.

Chapter Sixteen

THE HUNTER

My hand finds the small of her back as she fumbles with the keycard, a smirk playing on my lips.

The little fawn is nervous, her cheeks flushed, pulse fluttering beneath porcelain skin. I lean in, breath hot against her ear. "Need some help?"

She shivers, a delicious tremor. "I've got it." The lock beeps and she pushes inside.

I follow, a wolf stalking his prey right into the den.

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