They call it The Game. The siren sounds. Men in skull masks and warpaint tear through the basement space like animals unleashed, fighting each other with a savagery I've never seen. I know I can't win. I can only surrender.

I run anyway. My bare feet fly across concrete as they chase me, their growls echoing off warehouse walls. When he catches me—pulls up his mask so I can see his face—I understand: it was always going to be him.

The man I've tried so hard to hate. The one who claimed me before this even began. And what terrifies me most?
I want to be taken.