Page 51 of The Blood Moon Hunt

“Not me,” Ronan says, his grin widening. “You’re scared of her.”

I hold his gaze, unblinking, my blood boiling. He’s not wrong. There’s something about Selene—something I’ve never encountered before. Her pull ismagnetic, intoxicating. Every time I’m near her, I feel myself slipping, losing control. And I hate it.

Before I can respond, Ronan steps back, his tone turning mocking. “The great Damien, facilitator of the Hunt. Reduced to this. It’s almost sad. You know, you’re starting to remind me of the last facilitator. What was his name again? Oh, right—Alaric.”

I clench my fists, the sound of his name making the air around me feel charged with tension.

Ronan chuckles, clearly enjoying my reaction. “You remember what happened to him, don’t you? The Order stripped him of his rank when he got... too involved. Lost sight of the rules, let his personal feelings get in the way of his duty. And you know how that ended. Not just for him, but for his family too. They erased them all, didn’t they? No trace left. A little reminder of what happens when you step out of line.”

I grit my teeth, my entire body tightening with rage, but I keep my mouth shut. I won’t give him the satisfaction of a response. He’s trying to provoke me, to make me lose control, just like Alaric did. But I won’t make that mistake.

“You’re heading down the same path, Damien,” Ronan continues, his voice low and taunting. “I can see it. That girl... she’s gotten under your skin. You think the Order won’t notice? They already have. They’re watching you, waiting for you to slip up. And when you do, you’ll end up just like Alaric—forgotten, erased.”

I’m about to snap, to tell him exactly where he can shove his comments, when I feel it—Selene’s power. It’s faint, but growing stronger, pulling at the edges of my senses like a beacon.

“She’s close,” I mutter, ignoring Ronan’s jabs and stepping forward, focusing on the trail of power that Selene’s leaving behind.

But Ronan isn’t done. He leans closer, his breath hot with venomous amusement. “You’re going to lose her. Just like Alaric lost everything. And when the Order takes you down, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces. Maybe I’ll even take your place. The Order needs someone stronger, someone who knows where his loyalty lies.”

I shove past him, my pulse pounding, but the weight of his words sticks in my gut like a knife. Alaric’s fate is a constant reminder of the fine line I’m walking. One wrong move, one step too far, and everything I’ve built will come crashing down.

And worse, they’ll come for her.

But just as we push deeper into the forest, the shadows strike.

They emerge from the darkness, silent and swift, their inky tendrils stretching out toward us. I barely have time to react before I’m throwing up a shield, the cold weight of magic crackling through the air. Ronan is at my side, snarling as he flings a blast of energytoward the creatures. The shadows recoil, hissing, but they don’t retreat.

“They’re getting bolder,” I mutter, eyes narrowing as I ready myself for another attack.

“Or desperate,” Ronan adds, his jaw tight.

The shadows swarm, and we fight them off, side by side, though I can feel the tension between us growing with each blow. This isn’t a fair fight. The Order has sent more of them than usual, and it’s clear they’re after one thing—Selene.

Ronan fights with a ferocity that borders on recklessness, his power flaring bright against the darkness. He’s stronger than most, but he’s also impatient. And that’s always been his weakness.

I block another strike, sending the shadows spiraling back into the trees, but the brief moment of victory is shattered when I see her—Selene.

She’s standing a few feet away, watching us from the cover of the trees, her face pale, her eyes wide. She looks scared—but there’s something else. Determination.

“Selene!” I call out, my voice rough with urgency. “Stay back!”

She doesn’t listen. Instead, she takes a step closer, her gaze darting between me and Ronan. The shadows circle around her, waiting, hungry.

“Damn it,” I hiss, throwing up another shield asmore shadows descend. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

Ronan’s laughter cuts through the air. “She’s not as helpless as you think.”

I shoot him a sharp look, but before I can respond, the shadows strike again. This time, they’re faster, more vicious, their inky tendrils slithering through the underbrush with deadly intent. They lash out at us like living nightmares, dark claws tearing through the air.

I hurl a blast of energy, sending several of them spiraling back into the trees, but they reform, pulling themselves together from the darkness as if they were never harmed. Next to me, Ronan lets out a snarl, his own magic flaring in a brilliant, violent arc that cuts through several shadows, momentarily driving them back. But even his strength doesn’t seem to slow them for long.

We fight them off, barely keeping them at bay, but my focus is split. My gaze keeps darting to Selene—watching her, assessing her. She’s too close to the danger. My chest tightens with an anxiety I can’t shake. She shouldn’t be here. She’s in too much danger. Her power is still raw, uncontrolled, and I know these creatures can sense it, can smell it like blood in the water.

“Get back!” I shout at her, voice rough with fear, but Selene doesn’t listen. She stands frozen for a heartbeat too long, eyes wide, caught in the chaos of the battle unfolding around her.

I can’t stop glancing at her, my breath quickening. Every part of me wants to go to her, to pull her out of harm's way, but I’m locked in combat with these relentless creatures. A shadow lunges at me, claws extended, and I barely dodge it, throwing up a shield that crackles and sizzles as it absorbs the attack.

Ronan is next to me, fending off the shadows with brutal efficiency, but I know we can’t hold them off forever. There’s too many of them, and they’re growing more aggressive, more desperate.

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