The hunt is on.

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17HENRY

Bryce sprints into the forest immediately, but I wait until Stefan has disappeared into the trees so I can be sure he stays in front of me.

Once I’m beneath the dark canopy, I’m instantly distracted. The hunt grounds aren’t endless. They only go about three miles before they run into the granite face of the mountain wall. Some prey run the whole time, but experienced players like Miriam go to the same area every time.

I pick up her scent immediately beneath the pine overtones of the forest.

Out of the corner of my eye, a flash of white nightgown punctures the dark. I take off toward her, closing the distance between us in a few quick bounds, and step her into my arms.

She squeals as I shove her back against the nearest tree and kiss her. She bites my lower lip, her hands tugging at my hair to pull me closer.

Miriam smells so good, and there’s a new, illicit feeling to this, like I’m doing something more forbidden now that I have a fiancée. The more I feel my old life being swept out from under me, the more eager I am to enjoy every last moment of it.

I kiss Miriam desperately, trying to chase away the ghost of kissing Harlow that still lurks at the edges of my thoughts.

Lifting Miriam, I press her back against a thick tree trunk. She wraps her legs around my waist.

“Please, Henry.” Her plea sounds as desperate as I feel.

Her thighs are soft and warm under my hands. She presses her breasts into me, and I close my eyes. But my mind immediately flashes to Harlow in the boarding house, arching against me, kissing me with a fierce hunger.

Divine dammit! I need to replace that vision with something else.

I skim my lips down Miriam’s neck, and she shivers.

A twig breaks behind me and I freeze with my lips pressed to Miriam’s pounding pulse. She opens her mouth to speak, but I press a finger to her lips.

Another crunch of leaves breaks the stillness, and then a breeze sweeps from behind me, carrying the familiar, soft floral scent of Stellarium Blossoms.

Harlow. I hate that I know her by scent alone.

“Yes, wife? Did you need something?” I call over my shoulder. “Or do you like to watch?”

I can practically feel the irritation wafting off her.

I slowly release Miriam. She looks bereft, blinking up at me with startled doe eyes.

“Sorry, Miriam. It seems my wife-to-be doesn’t approve. Run along.” I smack her backside and she rushes away with an irritated glance over her shoulder.

Once the sounds of her retreat have faded, I turn. Harlow stands ten feet away, leaning against a thick tree trunk.

“Lovely, it’s not what you think. That’s my friend Miriam.”

“I have friends, too,” she says. “It’s not a big deal.”

I don’t like the jealousy that uncoils in my stomach when I think about how true that is. How many people have probably sat with her in dark corners of the bar, thinking they were going to get to fuck her only to wind up dead. I also think about the pretty bartender who smiled at her so tenderly, and for one insane, irrational moment, I hate everyone who has ever touched her.

I force the feeling away and turn on her. “You’re jealous.”

Her head snaps toward me. “Only of how delusional you are. I wouldn’t mind being out of touch with reality about now.” She waves her hand in the direction Miriam disappeared. “You didn’t need to stop on my account. It looked like you were just getting to the good part.”

“If you think that was the good part, you have an awful lot to learn. Don’t worry. I’m a very willing teacher.”

She tilts her chin up in challenge. “So am I.”

“If that was true, you wouldn’t be in these woods on a feast night hunt.” I start to circle her, slowly moving closer. She stays put, trying to look apathetic. But her heart pounds and all I read on her now is excitement.

I come up behind her and lean closer. “Want to play, Harlow? I’ll give you a head start.”

She tugs at her dark cloak. “Didn’t you want me not to run from you? Besides, I’m afraid I’m not properly dressed for the occasion.”

I continue to round on her and the cloak gapes open, offering me a view of her nightdress. Divine damn me—the material clings to her curves, and her nipples press against the thin silk.

“I don’t know. I think you’d manage okay,” I say.

A sly smile spreads over her face, and suddenly it’s not so clear which of us is the hunter and which is the prey.

I shake my head. That won’t do.

“You clearly came out here to snoop and I warned you not to come out here alone on a hunt night,” I say. “You could have received a very brutal welcome to our customs, all because you could not be bothered to listen to me.”

“You’re my fiancé, not my warden.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I grab her wrist and drag her into the forest. I can hear someone nearby already getting started, so I pull her down the narrow trail. We round a large rocky summit and start down the incline. When we reach the bottom, a soft whimper from the hollow of the rock overhang tells me we’re in the right place.

I know this place. It’s a small shrine to Kennymyra that was often visited during feasts before the fall.

Now it’s in ruins.

I squint into the dark to see a broad back covered in a familiar tattoo. It’s Bryce.

“Wha—”

I clap my hand over Harlow’s mouth and step behind her, pressing her back into my chest.

Bryce clicks his tongue, looking down at the blonde woman. “Naughty girl. I told you to hold still.”

He turns the woman around and bends her over the stone railing, yanks up her dress, and slaps her bare ass.

Harlow winces, but she doesn’t make a sound. My hand slides down to her neck, fingers resting above her thundering pulse.

Her gaze is riveted on Bryce as he pulls off his belt, folds it in half, and cracks it.

“Anything to say?” Bryce asks the woman.

He’s checking to be certain she’s still on board.

“No,” she rasps.

Between one breath and the next, he brings it down on the woman’s backside, and she yelps.

Bryce waits, belt raised. He’s experienced. He’s waiting for her to get over the initial shock to see if she’s going to say it was too much.

“More.”

The word is breathless, and it’s all the permission Bryce needs. He brings the belt down three times in quick succession. He gives the woman no time to recover before he wrenches her wrists behind her back and secures them with his belt. Then he drops to his knees and buries his face between her legs.

The woman moans loudly.

Harlow presses her back into me harder. Even in the half-light I can see her lips are parted in shock, her pupils dilated. Fuck me, she smells so good—like Stellarium Blossoms and nighttime in the forest.

My cock is stirring to life in the hope that the fun that was cut short earlier might be continued now.

The woman’s moaning swells until she goes rigid, her mouth open in a silent scream. Finally, she settles, and Bryce stands, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He grabs her long hair, wrapping it around his fist, guiding her up to stand on trembling legs. He turns her to face him.

“Kneel.”

Harlow’s jaw drops as the woman rushes to kneel and opens her mouth. Bryce doesn’t hesitate to free his cock from his pants and shove it into her mouth until she gags. He holds it there, grinning down at her watery eyes.

Harlow stares at them, open-mouthed, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. I wrap my arm around her waist, rest my palm to the thin silk covering her stomach, and press her against me so she can feel how hard I am.

Her head tips back, her gaze snapping to mine.

“Do you want that?” I whisper.

She frowns, but her gaze slides back to Bryce, who is now feeding his cock down the woman’s throat at a steady pace, using a fistful of her hair to guide her. She chokes and gags, struggling to take him.