Page 134 of Mine To Hunt

That is when I move. I step out of the car and open the trunk, retrieving the hammer I placed there earlier. The wooden handle fits firmly in my hand, the weight familiar. I close the trunk quietly and walk toward the trees.

There is no need to hurry. Inside the woods, their path is easy to follow. Broken branches mark where someone pushed through in a rush. Footprints press clearly into the damp soil. The trail leads me forward without effort.

After a short distance, I begin to hear them. Labored breathing. The sound of movement against leaves and dirt.

When I reach the clearing, I see him. His hand is wrapped around Iris’s wrist, pulling her toward him while she struggles to pull away. Something cold settles inside me.

I step forward and lift the hammer, bringing it down with controlled force toward his lower back. The impact drops him immediately, sending him collapsing onto the ground.

As he hits the dirt, I stand over him, the hammer still in my hand.

"She was mine to hunt. Now she’s mine to protect."

Chapter 41

Her

Ilie on the ground, my left hand pressed tightly over my face as I brace myself for the impact that I know is coming. My whole body shakes with terror, and my mind screams at me to stay hidden, to make myself as small as possible so that he cannot reach me.

Every muscle in me is tight, waiting for his rough hands to grab me or for his voice to cut through the air with another threat. But nothing happens. There is no grab, no sudden pain, and no cruel words. Instead, the silence stretches for one long, terrifying second.

Then I hear it. A sickening thud, the heavy sound of something blunt and powerful smashing into flesh with brutal force. Right after that comes a sharp cry of pain, raw and broken, like someone has just had the air ripped out of their lungs. My heart stutters in my chest.

Slowly, so slowly, I lower my hands from my face, my fingers trembling as they move. I turn my head toward the sound, my neck stiff and my vision blurry from the tears I did not even know were falling.

The stalker lies on the ground only a few feet away from me. He writhes in agony, both hands clutching his side as blood already seeps through his fingers.

He is not dead yet, but he is clearly broken, his legs kicking weakly against the dirt while his mouth opens and closes in shock. His voice cracks between curses and desperate pleas.

"Fuck… Oh God, make it stop." He gasps, the words coming out in wet, choking bursts.

Standing over him is the masked man. The sight of him hits me like a wave, and my emotions crash through me all at once.

Shock freezes my thoughts, making everything feel distant and unreal, as if I am watching a nightmare I cannot wake from. Disorientation follows right behind it, swirling in my head until I cannot tell up from down.

Fear is still there, sharp and cold, but it is layered now with a strange sense of recognition that makes my stomach twist. This feels inevitable, like some part of me always knew he would appear exactly when I needed him most.

The realization settles deep inside me. He was here the entire time, hidden in the shadows, watching every second of my terror. He never left me alone.

The masked man does not speak at first. He simply stands there, his head tilted slightly as he watches the stalker struggle. The stalker tries to crawl away, his nails digging into the earth as he drags his body forward inch by inch.

His face is twisted in pure terror now, eyes wide and glossy with tears. The man who hunted me has become the hunted, and thereversal sends a strange flutter through my chest that I do not understand.

Suddenly the stalker’s eyes lock onto the masked man, and recognition flashes across his bloody face. He gasps out the words in a broken whisper. "You…you…"

The masked man finally speaks, his voice calm and controlled, almost clinical, like he is explaining a simple mistake instead of ending a life. "Your sloppiness has always been your weakness."

The stalker’s breathing comes in ragged sobs now. He pushes himself up on one elbow, blood dripping from his mouth as he tries to bargain. "Please… Please don’t do this. I can disappear. You’ll never see me again. Just let me go. I swear I’ll never touch her."

The masked man does not move closer. He simply watches, the hammer still hanging loose in his hand. "Begging will not change anything. You crossed a line."

Tears stream down the stalker’s face, mixing with the blood. "I’ll give you money. All of it. Whatever you want. Just name your price. I have connections. I can make things right. Please, man, I’m begging you."

"You had your chance to walk away." The masked man replies, his tone never rising, never showing any anger. "Instead you chose to make her suffer. That choice sealed this moment."

I stay frozen where I am, my body refusing to move even though my mind screams at me to look away. This is the first time I am witnessing the masked man kill someone for me, and it changes something deep inside my chest.

The violence feels so real now, not like a distant story but something heavy and permanent. Every sound of bone cracking under the threat of that hammer echoes in my ears, and the weight of what is happening presses down on me until I can barely breathe.