Page 110 of Unlocking Ruin

My smirk fades as I slide it over my face. Neon pink floods my vision, hot and blinding. My breath fogs the plastic and heat prickles across my cheeks. Power hums beneath my skin, sharp and electric. The mask transforms me, turns me into the predator I was always meant to be.

Hiding behind a screen won’t save me now. To survive, I have to step into the light, teeth bared, mask on, an army at my back.

“It’s time for your trick. Sorry it took me a year to deliver it, but I promise it’s going to be good,” I gloat, my voice muffled, but carrying through the thick plastic.

“Run,” I order him.

He tilts his head, the vein in his neck pulsing wild and fast.

“I said, run.”

“Why?” he asks, his blue eyes roaming over my mask, half appreciation, half worry over this new version of me.

“I want you to know what it feels like to be plucked from your life and chased. To have no control.”

“I gave you control in the end.”

“Regret it?”

“Never.”

“Run.”

“So the hunted becomes the hunter,” he mutters as he widens his stance. I don’t miss how he flexes his ankle, preparing to run.

“I said run!”

A smirk flickers at his mouth. He steps back. “Fine.” Then he spins, faster than I expect for someone who’s been bound for hours, and bolts into the trees, up the slope toward his house.

I tear after him, wild and hungry. He weaves through the trees, but I’m right behind, every muscle honed from training with Cillian. I read him now, every flick of his heel, every twitch that betrays what prey will do next.

My calves burn as the incline steepens, but I trained for this climb. I knew chasing Steffen would be a fight. My only advantage is my size; I’m lighter, so I can jump and recover faster.

I notice that when he runs, his left leg seems to hurt, but he pushes through it, forcing his right leg to bear more weight.

The beginning of his house comes into view. Suddenly Steffen turns, catching me off guard. Instead of running forward, he comes right toward me. Arms open wide, he knocks the knife out of my hand. I lean back into my heels, ready to pivot, but he grabs me, tackling me to the ground. We roll; he hugs me tight toward him, trying to shield me from the impact. Then we’re sliding, only coming to a stop when he’s on top of me.

“I told you I would chase you no matter what, Little Thief. And that’s what this is, isn’t it? A chase.”

He beams as the pink glow from my mask covers his face.

“I hate you!” I shout in his face, as my eyes blur.

He shakes his head.

“I do!”

“Then why are you holding me so tight?”

Because I need you, I need an army. I need some place to rest my head, someone to keep me safe when I slumber.

I swallow and sink to the ground, but my hands hold onto him tighter.

He reaches for my mask.

“Don’t,” I snap, but a whimper of grief slips past my lips.

His fingers curl under the edge, pausing. “I am not scared of who you had to become to survive our world, Rylan. You looked at my scars and hugged me. Why would you think I’d be any different?”