Page 32 of The Blood Moon Hunt

Chapter

Eighteen

SELENE

The woods stretch endlessly before me, and my heart pounds in my chest as I weave through the trees. The shadows—those dark, crawling things—are still behind me. I can feel them, closer than before, creeping at the edges of my vision like tendrils of smoke, ready to engulf me. The cold morning air bites at my skin, but it’s the shadows that chill me to the bone. My muscles burn as I push forward, desperation fueling each step.

I glance over my shoulder, the shadows growing, moving unnaturally fast. They're closing in, and I know that if they catch me, there’s no escaping what comes next. Fear twists in my chest, and I stumble, nearlyfalling as my foot catches on a root. But then, something changes.

There’s a sudden shift, an invisible barrier that I seem to cross without realizing. The shadows... stop. They writhe at the edge of the treeline, like they’re tethered to some invisible boundary, unable to move forward. My breath comes in ragged gasps as I glance around, confused.

When I look up, I freeze.

The manor stands before me, rising from the mist as if conjured out of nowhere. Its towering stone walls loom, shrouded in the early light of dawn. Dark ivy clings to the edges, crawling up toward the windows, which are like empty eyes staring down at me. I hadn't seen it before—not until I crossed that unseen line—and now that it's here, the shadows that chased me seem to retreat, almost like they’re afraid of this place.

Relief surges through me, but it’s tainted with suspicion. I hesitate, my feet rooted to the ground. Is this place truly a safe haven? Or is it just another trap in this twisted game?

I step forward cautiously, scanning the grounds. It’s quiet here, too quiet for comfort. The woods at my back seem alive with menace, but this place... there’s a strange stillness to it, almost as if time itself has slowed down.

Movement in the garden catches my attention. A figure, bent over, tending to the earth. He looksso out of place here, among the creeping vines and the dark stone walls. The man stands, brushing dirt off his hands, his graying hair catching the soft light of dawn.

I move forward cautiously, my instincts telling me to stay on guard. He doesn’t seem to notice me at first, but when he does, he turns slowly, as if he’s been expecting me.

“Nothing to fear,” he says, his voice calm and steady. He gestures to the garden tools scattered around him. “Just a caretaker.”

I stop a few paces away, still unsure. “Who are you?”

He smiles kindly, his worn face softening in a way that makes him seem more human than anyone else I’ve encountered in this nightmare. “Name’s Gerald. I’ve been here a long time, keeping the grounds. You’ve nothing to worry about from me.”

His words, though gentle, do little to ease the tension in my body. “How do I know that?”

Gerald chuckles lightly, wiping his hands on his pants. “If I was anything like those men chasing you, you’d know by now.”

I narrow my eyes, still not convinced. “Do you know about the Hunt?”

The question pulls a somber expression from him. He lets out a long breath, his eyes growing distant, as if remembering something long forgotten. “Aye, I know about the Hunt. Seen more than a few of them in my time. None of them ever ended well.”

I frown, stepping a little closer. “What do you mean?”

“No human woman has ever made it past the first night,” he says quietly, his voice laced with a sadness that makes my skin crawl. “They’re claimed by the morning, their souls taken. It’s always been that way.”

A chill runs through me. No one makes it past the first night? But I did.

“I’m still here,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.

Gerald looks at me for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as if seeing me in a different light. “Maybe you’re not like the others.”

“I don’t think I am,” I murmur. "I don’t think I’m even human."

His gaze sharpens at my words, but he says nothing for a long moment. Finally, he whispers under his breath, “Nothing is as it seems.”

The familiar phrase echoes in my mind. I’ve heard it before, from Damien and the others. Hearing it from Gerald—a man who seems so far removed from their world—makes it all the more eerie.

“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice quiet, my heart pounding. “What do you know?”

But before he can answer, I hear footsteps behind me.

Lucien.

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