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“Already inside the castle, waiting,” the rider says. “He didn’t want to say it as much, but he’s excited to finally get to meet Romain.”
“Excited, yeah?” One of them answers, smirking.
“Putain de merde, what on earth is going on?” I finally snarl. I’m panting, a dangerous cocktail of nerves and anger. I’m scared, I’m tired, and anxious to see Edouard again. I’ve done so well in playing it cool the entire school year. In staying away from him during daylight. And aside from that one incident, he has never looked for me. He has let me admire him from a distance, my hand tire itself pathetically under the safe blankets of my bed.
“Will you let him, Alexandre?” Robin asks.
The rider—Alexandre—shrugs, and smiles my way. “If Edouard doesn’t mind. I heard he likes to kneel and be good. That’s good for Olivier, some gentle hands to take good care of him.”
“What the—” Awareness crawls through my system. “What?”
A crackling sound in the air has us all look up. For a second, I fear it might begin to rain, but the sky has been clear for days, with high, summer temperatures. Someone clears his throat through a speaker, the absurdity and recognition of that voice making the hairs on the back of my neck stand.
“Participants of the Wicked Chase.” It’s the creaking sound of the old man’s voice. The one who introduced us to the rules during the beginning of the games earlier tonight. “Outside in the forest, two of you are remaining, yet inside the castle, we are organizing tonight’s Initiation for only one of you. It will be a true party.”
“Party? Already? They still have one hour?” I hear Thurel ask behind me.
“He’s impatient,” Alexandre says, followed by a dry chuckle that does nothing to soothe my fretfulness. I don’t need to ask who he’s referring to.
“Make haste inside the castle, and find the location of our soirée. But be careful. On your way inside, you might come across the necessary challenges.” Someone cackles in the background. I’m not sure if that person is with the old man with the cane, or if it’s Thurel, or Robin, or Alexandre. It doesn’t matter either, my mind is turning foggy and my hand feels sweaty around the knife.
Thoughts are scattered all over the place. Memories of Edouard flood my defenses. There are so many of them.
On your knees, mon chat. There’s a good boy. If you stay like this until I come back, I’ll give you the reward you need.
“You have thirty minutes to make your way to your party!” The old man roars. “Thirty minutes to show us you’re worthy. Thirty minutes to alter your life forever.” The end of his phrase echoes through the night. Pour toujours.
Move. Move. Yet here I stand, frozen.
“There.” Robin points his way towards the castle. “That’s the way to go.”
“I know that,” I snarl. The tip of the blade in my fist scratches more flesh when I look over my shoulder, to where we started. Has it only been an hour that I’ve been out here? It would make sense that we finish the night at the same place. Still, I hesitate. Tonight’s rules were clear. Survive two hours in the woods and try to not get caught by the mask who’s out there to eliminate you.
Golden Mask. Handsome, dangerous, Edouard.
Then why do I get the feeling they’re now changing those rules?
CHAPTER 5
ROMAIN
Did I fall in love with him that first night? Possibly. Did some twisted, pathetic part of me love him for leashing me, for tagging me along, for including me in his life, whether it was a movie night with friends or an early night in bed? Yes. Edouard was all-consuming, demanding, arrogant, impossible, dominant, and sexy as sin.
And I fought him tooth and nail to be set free every evening so I could go and sleep in our trailer. She’d left me, had betrayed me, had sold my existence in exchange for her drugs, I knew that. I knew that. But she was fragile, and she was Maman, and she was all I had.
So I fought him. Edouard insisted on me sleeping in his room at night, but it was something I couldn’t give. Perhaps it was an argument I was destined to lose considering the circumstances, but it was equally one I was determined to win.
Those first nights when I was brought home, she’d snort at the sight of the golden collar around my neck. “So it is true.”
She never said more, but I could practically wipe off the dripping disdain from her voice. She despised me, while all I’d wanted to do was protect her. My shame made me feel guilty and forgive her addiction, even though I knew it was wrong. Cocaine and alcohol were slow killers, and though I didn’t want her to use, I’d failed to make her stop.
Meanwhile, I was fighting with my own lethal yearning—Edouard Beamont.
He made that fine line of hatred and love become dangerously blurred.
For his nineteenth birthday, the Dictator offered him a brand new, black Aston Martin. A beauty that cost more than my entire life. They threw a party that lasted until five in the morning and had enough food and drinks to feed an entire orphanage. The mansion was packed with countless uncles, aunts and cousins. With friends of the family, with lackeys of all levels, with entertainment for those lackeys. Maman was invited, but she sniffed herself unconscious and was escorted back to our trailer before the clock struck eleven. Father Benoît was there, sipping from a clear drink he claimed was water, and looking every bit the pious envoy of God.
It was without a doubt the biggest party I’d ever witnessed, even from my spot behind the transparent glass, where I lay, alone, huddled and collared, in my basket filled with pillows. I was allowed to watch the party, Edouard had said, but no one was allowed to watch me.
