Page 53 of The Blood Moon Hunt

My heart races as panic claws at my chest. I thought I was safe here, with Damien, Adrian, and Lucien watching over me. But now, I realize how foolish I was to believe that. The Hunt isn’t over—it’s only just begun.

One of the warlocks steps forward, a predatory smile on his lips as he raises his hand, magic sparking at his fingertips. I brace myself, ready to fight even though I know I can’t win.

Suddenly, there’s a loud crack, and the warlock closest to me is flung backward, crashing into the ground with a sickening thud. I blink in shock as Ronan strides into the clearing, his face twisted with rage. His magic crackles around him, violent and untamed.

“Get away from her,” he growls, his voice low and menacing.

The other warlocks hesitate, clearly uncertain. But Ronan doesn’t wait for them to decide. He unleashes a brutal wave of power, sending them scattering back into the forest. I watch, stunned, as he tears through them with a savagery that leaves no doubt in my mind—he’s protecting me.

Within moments, the clearing is empty again, the lesser warlocks driven off. My body sags with relief, but my heart still races as Ronan turns toward me, his eyes burning with intensity.

“You shouldn’t have run off,” he snaps, stalking toward me. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”

“Why do you care?” I shoot back, my voice shaky but defiant. “You’re all the same. You want to use me just like they do.”

Ronan’s eyes flash with something dark and dangerous. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming. “Maybe I do,” he admits, his voice a low rumble. “But I’m not letting anyone else have you.”

My breath catches at his words, my pulse quickening as the space between us disappears. There’s something primal in the way he looks at me, something that sends a shiver down my spine. I should be afraid, and part of me is. But there’s another part—a part that’s drawn to him, no matter how much I try to fight it.

We’re close now, too close, and I can feel the heat radiating from his body. His eyes bore into mine, and the air between us crackles with tension.

“I’m not yours to claim,” I manage to say, though my voice betrays me, trembling with uncertainty.

Ronan’s lips curl into a dark, predatory smile. “We’ll see about that.”

I take a step back, but he follows, his movements slow and deliberate, like a wolf stalking its prey. My heart pounds in my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s fear or something else entirely that’s making me tremble.

Before I can say anything more, Ronan reaches out, his hand brushing against my arm. The contact sends a shock of heat through me, and I gasp, my body betraying me once again. His touch is electric, setting every nerve in my body alight.

“Run all you want,” he whispers, his voice a low growl. “I’ll always find you.”

My breath hitches, and I can feel the pull between us—raw, undeniable, and dangerous. There’s no escaping it.

But I won’t let him have the last word. I square my shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. “I’ll make sure you regret it.”

He chuckles darkly, his eyes gleaming with amusement and something more. “I doubt that.”

The tension between us is thick, palpable. Neither of us is willing to back down, but the air is charged with something more than just anger. It’s heat, lust, and a dangerous sense of inevitability.

We stand there, locked in this silent battle, knowing full well that whatever happens next is inevitable.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

RONAN

The moment stretches between us, the air thick with heat and tension. Her defiance only stokes the fire inside me, makes the need to claim her burn even hotter. I step forward, closing the distance between us until there’s no more space left to run.

She holds her ground, her chin lifted in defiance, but I can see the way her chest rises and falls quickly, the way her eyes flash with something more than fear. I can feel it too—the pull between us, electric and undeniable. She doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s there, as real as the power thrumming in the air between us.

I reach for her, my hand cupping the back of her neck, my fingers tangling in her hair. I expect her toresist, to pull away like she’s done before. But this time, she doesn’t. She just stares up at me, her eyes blazing with both challenge and something more primal.

“You think you can fight me?” I murmur, my voice low and rough. “That you’re stronger than me?”

Her lips part slightly, and for a moment, I see the doubt flicker in her eyes. But then, just as quickly, it’s gone, replaced by that same stubborn fire that I can’t help but admire.

“Maybe I don’t have to fight you,” she breathes, her voice soft but sharp. “Maybe I can take whatever it is you think you have to offer.”

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