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Ari winced apologetically. “Uh—no. Not until it’s over or you let them close enough to unmask, but then you risk the chance of losing.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Last year, it could literally be anyone. The guy next to you in class, someone in your dorm building, or a random student who had never interacted with their Marked before the Hunt.”

“Talk about keeping enemies close,” Roxxi mused.

Layla frowned. “This is likeSenior Assassinall over again.”

“Yeah, if you swap water guns for psychological warfare.” I laughed.

We carried everything else to the dining nook and settled around our table to eat.

Ari took a bite of pasta and then tapped away on her cell a few times. “Like I suspected, they’ve added onto the official site about a rule change being announced, but it isn’t up yet.”

I sighed, taking another bite of my food, covering my mouth before speaking. “I don’t think I want to know. This is really good by the way, Ari.”

She beamed. “Thank you.”

Layla set down her fork, fidgeting with her napkin. “How exactly is The Hunt won? What’s the benefit of holding out instead of withdrawing?”

Cloe pushed her plate aside and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “From what I’ve read so far, Huntsmen have to actively pursue their assigned target for a minimum number of set hours. I haven’t seen how many yet. Not consecutive. It has to be documented in some way. Then, once they have the green light from the faculty overseeing this whole ordeal, they have to ‘capture’ their target in front of at least one non-Marked student witness.”

“We really should have paid more attention to this last year. What does capturing entail?” Roxxi asked.

Arianna answered this time. “It varies, but it has to last at least four minutes.”

“That’s not so bad. Four minutes isn’t a long time,” Layla pointed out.

“Yeah, no. We don’t know where or when this would happen, and I’m not keen on someone who will have gone out of their way to scare the shit out of me and make my life hell day after day, holding me captive for any amount of time. I’m sure it would feel like a damn eternity by that point.”

She went quiet for a moment, her appetite clearly gone. “Well, if we’re Marked, there’s nothing we can do about these people in masks. The car thing can’t be okay, though. The Hunt has rules, so there’s no actual harm.”

“Besides mental trauma,” Roxxi confirmed, her eyes trained on her own phone. “But hey, according to this, there’s a way to win for us too. If you last the whole duration without being caught—no capture, no submission—you win instead. Your name gets engraved on a plaque in the theater auditorium.”

“Does it say what happens if we don’t win?”

Roxxi’s brows rose. “Besides the obvious? You’re listed on your Huntsman’s scorecard like a war trophy.”

I tried to think positive thoughts, finding that harder and harder to do as I scrolled through the archived Hunt threads on my phone. “Maybe we should find a bunker and ride this out in there.”

“Good luck with that,” Cloe laughed. “Did you see the post from last year where they flushed a girl out of her cellar with a smoke bomb?”

“Nope, somehow missed that one.”

Roxxi cleared her throat. “According to the FAQ, Marked are determined by an auction system once a list of names makes it through a pre-betting process. Huntsmen can join only by invitation. They then pay to play and put bids on who they want to Mark, or choose to get someone at random. If they win and complete The Hunt, their payout doubles. If they lose?” She shrugged. “Crowsfell keeps the money.”

“That’s exactly how it works,” Ari confirmed. “Monetary amounts are kept private until everything is said and done. We don’t even get to see how much we’re worth.”

“This is all so…” I fished for the correct word.

“Archaic,” Cloe supplied.

“It’s more than just a name on a wall, then? You can actually earn money from this?” Layla questioned. From her tone, it was clear she’d just taken a different kind of interest in this whole ordeal. From her perspective, the money probably meant something more. I was aware enough to know survival looked different when your options weren’t stacked with privilege.

“We’re learning about this right along with you, but it seems like it,” I told her honestly, reaching for my tea again.

Roxxi pushed her plate aside and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

“When are we telling the guys about this?”

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