Ruin (Rhodes #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,31

quicker into my arteries as we advance further. The bent trees are like servants welcoming their masters.

The hounds run in the same direction, their barks intensifying.

With a sharp kick of my boots, Jet sprints, catching up to the hounds in no time. When a deer appears, jumping left and right, trying to elude the hounds, Wind manages to speed ahead of us.

Dylan smirks as he passes me. “This one is mine.”

Hell, it isn’t.

One hand on the reign, I slip my other in my jacket and retrieve a knife, kicking Jet. “Go, Jet! Go!”

The distance separating me from the deer is about twenty five metres. The hounds keeping it caged.

I throw the knife, smiling when it lands straight into its neck.

It falls on the ground, and I guide Jet to it. The hounds surround us in victory barks. The deer splays on the ground, blood streaming onto the grass. Its eyes remain wide, still clinging to life.

The beauty of its struggles strikes me. How beautiful. And utterly needless.

“It’s not dead,” Dylan says, Wind halting next to Jet.

I smirk. “It’s still my kill.”

“We’re only in the first round.” He unleashes his Remington 7600, charges it, and fires two clean shots. Each in the deer’s eyes.

“Old habits die hard, huh?” I ask in a mocking voice.

“I don’t like the look in their eyes.” Dylan’s voice and face are detached. Yet, his grip tightens around the weapon.

I twist the reigns lighter, allowing Jet to turn in little circles. “I thought you got rid of that weakness already.”

“What weakness? My humanity?” His voice rises. “I’m not like you. I can’t just cut it loose.”

I smile, mocking. “Look where that got you.”

“It’s much better than where it got you.” He spins Wind around. “You’re becoming more and more like your psycho father. The similarities are disturbingly disgusting.”

My jaw ticks, but I maintain my smile. “It can’t be helped. We share the same genes.”

“Let’s hope you don’t share the same fate.” Without a glance, he propels Wind forward.

Screw Dylan’s provocations. If he wants a reaction then he better try harder.

The stable boys collect the deer’s corpse as Dylan and I follow the hounds. Their noses kiss the ground in search of another target.

“What about Celeste?” Dylan signals Wind to keep up with Jet’s cantering pace.

Of course. Celeste. Sometimes, I wonder if he’s a masochist for obsessing about her after what she’s done to him at The Pit. But since he thinks he hates her, let him continue down that route.

“Tristan informed you about her before me, didn’t he?” I ask.

“Sure.” His poker face springs pure irritation. One day I’ll punch him. Ideally to death. “What’s your plan?” he asks.

“Lure.”

He raises his eyebrows. “No hunting?”

“She’s a snake and therefore, a better stalker than me. I’ll wait until she comes on her own.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

I shrug. “Then I will have to make her lose at her own game.”

The bloodhounds erupt in mad barks. The Dobermans sprint to the sound with their signal aggressive one.

‘Release Mae in the forest, and have the Dobermans rip her to shreds.’ Aunt’s frosty voice slows my pace.

‘I have done that before. It’s quite entertaining,’ Father says.

I thought I’m the one who’s supposed to kill her.

‘We’re only laying down options to make her death more interesting.’ Aunt’s voice takes a gentle firm tone, the one she used to scold us with as children.

Dylan’s shout pulls me from the conversation with my demons. “This one is mine!”

Wind scurries ahead of us in a renewed chase, the clinks of his hoofs and the waving of his long, thick tail mocking me.

“We won’t lose, Jet,” I murmur with a caress to his neck, before kicking him. “Go!”

The hunt lasts longer than we expect. I lose by two targets. Only because I run out of knives.

The last deer twitches on the ground after Dylan shot it in the leg. The animal’s frantic eyes search around, as if there’s an exit between the hounds surrounding it. Blood gushes from its wound, but the deer still struggles to a standing position.

It’s like Mae. She’s frightened out of her mind but insists on rebelling and faking courage. What’s the point if she’s going to lose anyway? She will always be the deer about to be ripped apart.

“Eat,” I