Page 103 of The Darkest Hour

I quickened my pace.

All I could do was keep moving, keep pushing forward, and pray that whatever bigger predators were out there, they wouldn’t find me before I found a way off this cursed island.

Then. . .the rustling of leaves made me stiffen and stumble in my jog.

Shit.

A twig snapped.

No. It isn’t all in my mind. Someone is out there.

And then I heard something else.

Oh no.

A faint sound that wasn’t part of nature’s music. The sound of footsteps—human footsteps—crunching on the undergrowth behind me.

They were distant but growing louder with each passing second.

Havoc is coming. It has to be him.

I could feel his presence even from afar—a predatory aura that was both terrifying and intoxicating.

It was madness, but there was a thrill in this chase that I could not deny.

Fuck you, Havoc. I won’t be easy prey.

I pushed my body beyond its limits, my blood pounding in my veins like a war drum. My breath came out in short gasps; my lungs were screaming for mercy.

Sweat trickled down my forehead, stinging my eyes yet I didn't dare slow down.

He was near.

I knew it deep in my bones.

I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, the adrenaline pumping through my veins like fire.

Still, the footsteps behind me grew louder, closer, and I knew I couldn’t afford to look back.

Then, Havoc’s deep voice pierced through the darkness. “Wildcat, daddy’s home!”

Shit!

The fear that had been gnawing at me was now a roaring beast inside my chest, driving me forward with a single, desperate thought.

Don’t let him catch you.

The forest was a blur around me. Trees and shadows blended together into a chaotic mix of black and gray.

I want to look back, but I can’t. I just can’t.

But no matter how fast I ran, it didn’t feel like it was enough.

“Aww! Don’t run from my cock, wildcat!”

The sound of snapping twigs and rustling leaves was relentless, an echo of my own frantic pace, but with a darker, more determined rhythm.

“Wildcat!”

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