Hunted for the Holidays: A Virgin and Billionaires Reverse Harem Romance by Ryan Ramsay

Author:Ryan Ramsay [Ramsay , Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2021-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5 - Ron

June’s rosy perfume, lace with a silly strand of fear, was a delight to breathe in. I lunged from a rock and landed on a soft marsh of soil. It was good to be back.

She was afraid and confused. I get that. No one wants to be chased if the goal is to be devoured. The thing is, I wasn’t sure if the game was real or not. There could be a chance things would get weird. I had the option to go back home, laugh about what happened, make a few friends, and drink some ale before bedtime. But I was in a hunting game. I shouldn’t stop until the prey is in my hands.

That’s something I learned from my father.

Years ago, back in the Taiga, we lived off the ice throughout the year. It took months to shiv our canoes from the barks of well-cut trees, plant the delicate trappers and set them right under the bushels of snow. The bread that was stored above our heads in the cabins were stale, but still delicious especially when paired with. a warm tea, a small fire, and stories of the old country that my father loved to tell. We had no concept of time back then. There was only light and dark. You hunted when it was light and you were hunted by the grizzlies when it was dark. And it’s not even close to dark right now.

I pushed ahead, bathed in the harsh embers of autumn, my bare chest steeling itself as I ran and darted behind the trees to keep up the pace.

When I left the Bakhta all I wanted to do was stay in touch with my roots. Of course. it took me some time to understand the language of the herbs beyond my immediate home. The western world loved my opinions, and the easterns agreed with my methods. Soon, my vitamin and supplements business sold for more than I could ever spend in a lifetime. So I took my time to relearn everything my father taught me when I was younger. I spent months in the forest, living off the land. I returned to Bakhta for Christmas two years ago and celebrated with my father and his new wife over a bowl of marshmallows. Now, I enjoy being out in the wild, surrounded by creatures that served as reminder of my meager existence, of being alive in a cruel cyclical world.

A faint yell can be heard from a distance. I could smell her.

The nascent fragrance of her sweat was close. It was thick in the air. I stopped running. Catching my breath against a splintered log, I took a step back and surveyed the perfectly lined green. This lodge is fantastic in honesty and if the game was real, June would be a fine specimen to sample.

I must win.

I took a deep breath, prepared my heels, and began a light job through the green, following the smell of my prize, my mouth watering for what was about to come.

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