Page 13 of The Blood Moon Hunt

Let the Hunt begin.

Chapter

Nine

LUCIEN DEVEREUX

Igrip the woman's hips tightly, my fingers digging into her soft flesh as I pull her back onto my throbbing member. She gasps, her body yielding to my dominant stance. I relish the sensation of her warm, wet heat enveloping me, her inner muscles clenching around my shaft.

I start to move again, setting a relentless pace. Each thrust is deep and purposeful, designed to claim every inch of her. The woman's moans increase in volume, her breath coming in ragged pants as I take her harder and faster.

Sweat beads on our skin, mingling with the scent of sex that fills the air. I lean down, capturing her mouthin a fierce kiss, my tongue plundering hers. She responds eagerly, lost in the intensity of the moment.

My hands roam her body, groping and squeezing, marking her as mine.

I piston into the woman, my heavy balls slapping against her ass with each brutal stroke. She cries out, her voice a symphony of ecstasy and agony as I ravage her. Her nails scratch at my back, leaving red trails in their wake.

I break the kiss, my breath hot against her ear as I growl, “Take it all, little one. Every inch of my cock, every drop of my cum.” My words are a dark promise, a vow to claim her utterly.

The woman's eyes roll back, her body shaking as she teeters on the brink of orgasm. I can feel her tightening around me, her walls fluttering in preparation for her release. I redouble my efforts, pounding into her with unrelenting ferocity.

The woman's screams echo through the clearing as I drive into her with reckless abandon. Her pussy clenches around me, milking my cock for all it's worth. I can feel her approaching climax, her body tensing in anticipation.

With a final, savage thrust, I bury myself to the hilt inside her. The woman's back arches, her toes curling as she shatters around me. Her orgasm rips through her, wave after wave of intense pleasure washing over her.

She gasps beneath me, her body trembling as themagic surges between us. She’s soft, willing, and completely unaware of what’s happening—of the way her soul is slowly being siphoned into me. I feel the power flow from her in waves, intoxicating, almost enough to dull the sharp edge of my instincts. Almost.

But not quite.

I rise, letting her body go limp, her soul now hollow. It’s all so routine, claiming these souls—empty vessels afterward, none the wiser to what they’ve lost. With a flick of my wrist, my clothing materializes back onto me, a small smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. They never know what hit them.

I glance around the clearing, my attention drifting as the chaos unfolds around me. Warlocks claiming their prey, souls pouring out into the night. It’s a show—always has been. But tonight, there’s an undercurrent, a tension that lingers in the air, something different.

I spot Ronan near the edge of the clearing. He's just gotten up from claiming another soul. He stands, his eyes sharp as he watches the scene with far more interest than usual. I stride over to him, noticing how his gaze flicks between two figures standing at the opposite end: Damien and Adrian. They’re deep in conversation, though the tension between them is almost palpable.

“What’s this?” I ask, my voice low as I approach Ronan. “Damien and Adrian having a lovers’ quarrel?”

Ronan grunts, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t like it. They’ve been on edge since we started. Something’s going on.”

I follow Ronan’s gaze, watching Damien’s stiff posture, the way Adrian stands too close, too smug. It’s rare to see Damien unsettled, but there it is—clear as day in the way his magic hums, just beneath the surface.

And then I see her.

She’s running, her dark hair flowing behind her as she makes a beeline for the manor. There’s something about the way she moves—purposeful, not like the other prey. As if she knows more than she should. And the power. It pulses in the air, emanating from her even now, like a beacon.

Ronan follows my line of sight, his brow furrowing. “That one...there’s something different about her.”

I nod slowly, my mind already working through the possibilities. “She’s not human. Or if she is, she’s not like the others.”

“That would explain why Damien can’t keep his eyes off her,” Ronan says with a low growl. “Or why Adrian’s chasing after her.”

We watch as Adrian finally breaks away from Damien, his lips curling into a smug grin before he darts off into the woods, following the girl. There’s something unmistakable about the way he’s moving—like a predator who’s just caught the scent of his prey.

Damien doesn’t follow. He just stands there, staring after Adrian with a clenched jaw, the air around him crackling with restrained power.

Ronan’s eyes narrow, a dangerous glint in his gaze. “He’s hiding something.”

“Of course he is,” I say, crossing my arms. “But Damien’s always been the Order’s favorite. He plays by their rules, keeps his cards close to his chest. Adrian, though... he’s the type to push boundaries.”

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