Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
The solarium! The thought struck like lightning, illuminating everything. Katya’s sanctuary, that humid jungle hidden behind glass walls. It was far from the library, full of places to hide among the tropical overgrowth, and most importantly, Hunter might not think to look there, since Katya’s wing was typically preserved for his sister’s privacy. He’d expect her to run to the upper floors, to lose herself in the maze of bedrooms.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are…”
She changed direction, her feet finding purchase on the cold floors as she sprinted toward the glass-walled paradise. Her thighs burned. Her calves screamed. But fear—exquisite, arousing fear—drove her forward.
His echoing steps stopped, and she grinned, sensing that she’d confused him.
When she entered the solarium, the shift in temperature with her sweat dampened skin caused her to instantly overheat. Pausing to catch her breath, her sense of hearing was deafened by her heavy breathing. But she could sense him. Even here, through the closed door and down the long corridor, she could feel him, the phantom sensation of being tracked crawling up her spine like fingers, like breath on the back of her neck.
Sprinklers kicked on and she flinched. They hissed quietly under the growth of leaves, adding to the already humid air. The trickle from the fountains in the coy pond added to the white noise, making it harder to hear.
The solarium air was thick with vapor, moistening her lips as she rapidly breathed. Opening and closing her fists, she struggled to control her trembling hands. Swallowed by tropical heat that wrapped around her like a living thing, the temperature shift felt almost violent. Her skin coated with moisture, and her clothes clung to her dewy flesh. Breathing felt like drowning in warm honey.
Leaves ruffled, startling her. But she saw nothing. Sometimes birds got trapped in the solarium and she wouldn’t be surprised to find other small critters scurrying around in the dirt. Or maybe it was him, already here, biding his time before he pounced on his prey.
She moved deeper into the solarium, past the orchids that preened in jewel tones of purple, sapphire, and crimson. Past the palms with their massive fronds that whispered secrets as she brushed by. Past the wicker furniture where she’d sat with Katya, discussing monsters and survival.
Almost certain she was alone, she moved to the far corner where massive ferns created a natural alcove, their branches cascading like a living curtain, and she wedged herself behind them, trying desperately to control her ragged breathing.
The sprinklers cut off.
Silence.
The sudden absence of sound was somehow worse than his haunting taunts. Her heart didn’t slow. It accelerated, rabbit-fast, hummingbird-frantic.
She pressed her back against the glass wall, the cool surface a shocking contrast to the humid air, to her overheated skin. Condensation formed where her body touched the glass, outlining her in moisture.
Where was he?
Seconds crawled by like hours, each one an eternity. She strained to hear anything over the hum of the fountain, over the drip-drip-drip of condensation falling from leaves like rain in a miniature jungle. Over her own pulse thundering in her ears like drums, like thunder, like the end of the world approaching.
Maybe he’d gone the wrong direction. Maybe she’d actually—
The solarium door opened.
Not with a crash or a bang, but with a soft click that might as well have been a gunshot for how it made her entire body jerk. The soft snick of the latch seemed to echo forever in the humid space, bouncing off glass walls, reverberating through her bones.
Marigold’s hand flew to her mouth, palm pressed hard against her lips to stifle the gasp that wanted to escape, the whimper building in her chest. Through the fern fronds, she could see the doorway, but couldn’t make out if anyone stood there. Just shadow and light, reality distorted by tropical foliage and her own fear.
Then she heard it. A low, rumbling sound that resonated in her bones, in her teeth, in the base of her spine as Hunter took a long, deep inhale and let out a satisfied growl.
“I’m getting warmer, Lisichka.” His voice was pure gravel, rough as stone scraping stone. “Your scent’s intensified… Fear and arousal. Such a pretty combination. Like honey and smoke.”
She pressed harder against the wall, making herself as small as possible. Her thighs trembled, muscles quaking with the effort of staying still, of not running, of not making a sound. Whether from fear or need, she couldn’t tell anymore. They’d merged, become the same thing. A dark wanting that pulsed between her legs and squeezed her lungs.
Heavy footsteps punched into the stone floor, slow and deliberate. He was taking his time, drawing it out, savoring it. The hunter enjoying the hunt, the certainty of the catch more intoxicating than the capture itself.
“You chose well,” he continued, and his voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, bouncing off glass, filtered through plants, impossible to locate. “The heat…makes your scent stronger. I could track you blind in this climate, even with the perfumed air around the flowers. I know the smell of your wet cunt by heart.” He lifted a palm leaf as he strolled closer, his body a flawless compass to hers. “Could track it straight to wherever you’re hiding.”