The flames of the blowtorch cast eerie shadows against the concrete walls, flickering like specters in the dim basement light. Jay's eyes darted to the flame, his pupils dilating in fear as the realization of what was coming settled over him.
I took a slow step toward him, letting the faint hiss of the torch fill the space between us. It wasn't just about the pain anymore. This was about dismantling him, piece by piece, until he understood the depth of his sins.
"You wanted nature, Jay," I murmured, my voice soft, almost kind. "Well, here it is. You're not the lion. You're not the wolf. You're the rabbit, and it's hunting season."
His breath hitched, his gaze snapping to mine. For the first time since this began, he looked truly afraid. Not the fleeting kind of fear that fades with a threat—this was deeper. Primal.
"Wait…" he croaked, his voice a rasp of desperation. "Maya, don't—"
