Page 59 of Mine To Hunt

Dr. Nathaniel turns and notices me, his face lighting up with recognition. "Iris? What a pleasant surprise running into you here."

I smile back, a mix of surprise and slight awkwardness washing over me. "Hi, Dr. Nathaniel."

He collects his packed lunch and approaches my table. "Do you mind if I sit for a minute?"

I gesture to the chair across from me. "Not at all. Please have a seat."

He sits down, placing his bag on the table. "So, what brings you to this cafe? It’s a bit outside your usual area."

I take a bite of my sandwich before replying. "I recently started a part-time job at a newspaper nearby. The Daily Chronicle. I’m working as a content writer in their crime department."

Dr. Nathaniel's eyebrows lift slightly. "The Daily Chronicle?" He says. "I know someone there. Hazel Carter."

I blink, a little surprised. "You know Hazel?"

"We've crossed paths a few times." He says casually. "She's very sharp. Demanding, but fair."

I nod, thinking of the way Hazel had scanned my first article like a hawk. "Yeah… that sounds about right."

Dr. Nathaniel leans back slightly. "That sounds like an excellent opportunity. How is it treating you so far?"

I shrug lightly. "It’s challenging, but I’m enjoying it. Keeps my mind occupied."

He smiles. "Occupied minds are often healthier ones. If it ever becomes too much, feel free to bring it up in our sessions."

I appreciate his concern. "I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks."

He checks his watch. "I should get going. Enjoy the rest of your lunch, Iris."

I wave as he stands. "You too, Dr. Nathaniel. See you at our next appointment."

The brief conversation leaves me with a sense of normalcy, helping to ease some of the morning's tension as I finish my meal and head back to work.

Chapter 18

Him

Istand in the dim light of my flat. The restless energy that has been gnawing at me all day feels like a heavy weight in my chest, urging me to chase that rush again.

I open the lid of the terrarium with steady hands, as Mercy raises her head slightly, her tongue flicking out as if she knows what is coming next. I reach in and lift her gently onto my arm, feeling the familiar coolness of her scales against my skin. The anticipation builds inside me, pushing away the dullness.

I prepare the small vial and the extraction tool, positioning her fangs carefully over the edge. "This venom is going to be worth every drop, Mercy." I say to her, my voice filled with that certainty that makes everything feel right. "It’ll make the moment perfect when I finally use it."

She strikes the tool as I apply the right pressure, and the clear liquid begins to drip into the vial. I watch it collect slowly, the sight stirring a deep satisfaction within me because this is preparation for the ultimate claim.

"You always give me what I need without question." I tell her, stroking her head lightly with my finger. "This will bring thathigh I crave so much, the one that makes the world feel alive and under my control."

I cap the vial once it is full enough, and place her back inside the terrarium with care. The boredom fades completely now, replaced by the electric hum of purpose as I pocket the venom. She is the one it is meant for, and today feels like the right time to end the wait.

I drive to the alley near her place, parking a safe distance away to avoid any chance of being noticed too soon. The high starts building as soon as I step into the shadows, waiting for her to appear.

It is that same thrill that courses through me every time I think of her, making my blood sing with possession and the promise of breaking her completely. She belongs to me in a way that no one else ever has, and just the thought of seeing her ignites that fire inside, making everything else feel insignificant.

I lean against the wall, my mind focused on the plan for today. I intended to kill her tonight, to feel that ultimate rush as her life slips away under my hands, confirming my control over her entirely. The venom is ready for that final step, and the anticipation makes my pulse quicken.

I spot her getting off the bus, and the high intensifies immediately, flooding my veins with that addictive energy. She walks with a cautious posture, her shoulders slightly tense as if she carries the weight of constant vigilance.

Her pace is hurried but controlled, like she wants to move through the space without inviting attention. I note the way she keeps checking her surroundings, her head turning every fewsteps, already marked by a fear that makes her movements more deliberate.