Page 83 of The Blood Moon Hunt

The magic bursts out from me, surging from the altar with raw, untethered power. The shockwave ripples through the clearing, and I can feel it—not a precise strike, but a force of nature, a wave of energythat I’ve learned to ride. The shadows and lesser warlocks recoil, pulled back by the sheer magnitude of the magic that moves through me. For a brief moment, they scatter, giving the others room to breathe.

I stand there, breathless but steady. Not in control—but in harmony with the power flowing through me.

They turn to me, shock evident on their faces, but there’s something else there too—a mixture of awe and fear.

“What the hell was that?” Lucien pants, his chest heaving as he leans on his sword for support.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “I had a vision,” I begin, my voice shaking slightly, “and I know what we need to do.”

Adrian steps forward, eyes narrowing as he studies me. “What kind of vision?” he asks, his voice low and cautious.

I hesitate, not wanting to reveal everything I saw—the burning witches, their screams, the fury in their eyes as they called for vengeance. “It was... about the altar. The witches. The curse. If we want to break the Order’s hold, we have to bind ourselves together. Here. Now.”

Lucien scoffs, wiping blood from his lip. “Are you out of your mind? We're fighting for our lives here, and now you want us to go through some ritual?”

I shake my head, frustrated. “This isn’t just about escaping. If we don’t break the curse, it’s never going toend! The Order will grow stronger and you'll never be truly free.”

“I’ve known that for a while,” Damien says quietly, his eyes meeting mine. “But how do we know we can trust this... vision?”

I look at him, my heart pounding in my chest. His face is etched with skepticism, but there’s something softer in his gaze. Vulnerability. “I don’t know if you can trust the vision,” I admit, my voice low, “but you have to trust me.”

Silence falls over the clearing, tension thick between us.

“And what exactly is this plan?” Lucien asks, his tone mocking. “We all just hold hands and hope for the best?”

I glare at him, forcing myself to keep my composure. “No. It’s not about hoping. We need to bind our powers together. The Blood Moon will give us the strength to challenge the Order.”

Lucien shakes his head. “And you think binding ourselves to you will fix this? You think we can just... fight them off with this—” He gestures around us at the flickering light from the altar, “—stone slab?”

I feel my frustration building, but I hold it in. “No,” I say slowly. “The witches power is imbued into this stone. They are bound to it. I can tap into that. They're cursed in much the same way as the Order is. If we don'ttry, the Order will continue to control you. This is the only way to fight back.”

“Witches?” Adrian’s brow furrows. “You spoke with them?”

My stomach twists, but I force myself to explain. “Yes. The Order—your ancestors—hunted them, burned them alive, trying to harness their power. They want me to do the same to you. To harness your power and destroy you with it.”

The tension thickens. Lucien looks incredulous, while Adrian remains silent, his eyes glinting with a mixture of curiosity and something darker.

Lucien’s jaw tightens, and I see the doubt written on his face. “So, why would we agree to this? You've been told to kill us."

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. “The witches wanted revenge. But, I don't. I want to destroy the Order, but I'm not going to kill all warlocks to do it.”

The warlocks exchange glances, their skepticism evident.

"Which is why I think there is another way. Just as your ancestors found another way to harvest souls. I think it's the key to destroying the Order without sacrificing," I gulp, "well, everyone."

“And you have this ‘other way’ figured out?” Damien asks.

“I think...” I swallow hard. “I think it has something to do with pleasure. Desire. That’s how warlocks havealways been able to take power, right? By feeding off the souls of others in moments of ecstasy? Maybe... if we channel that energy together, we can become strong enough to defeat the Order without anyone dying.”

A stunned silence falls over the clearing as the weight of my words sinks in. It’s a dangerous gamble, but it’s the only alternative I can think of.

“And you expect us to just... go along with that?” Lucien’s voice is hard, disbelieving.

“I don’t expect anything,” I say, feeling the vulnerability in my voice. “But if you trust me—if you believe in what I’m saying—then we can do this.”

The warlocks stare at me, their expressions unreadable. I can feel their hesitation, their fear. But there’s something else too—a glimmer of hope.

Damien steps forward, his voice soft. “I trust you.”

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