Page 59 of The Blood Moon Hunt

As the climax builds within us, I feel a surge of power coursing through my veins, threatening to break free from my control. I grip Selene tighter, determined to maintain my focus on her pleasure alone.

"Damien..." she breathes, her nails digging into my shoulders. "Ronan... I need..."

"Need what, little moon?" I ask, my voice husky with desire. I trail kisses down her neck, nipping gently at the sensitive skin.

Selene arches into me, her hips grinding against Ronan's hardness. "I need to feel you inside me, filling me completely," she gasps. "Both of you, together."

With a fierce growl, I snap my fingers, my clothing dematerializing, revealing my chiseled torso. Ronan does the same, our muscles rippling under the moonlight. We position ourselves behind Selene, our erections straining towards her waiting entrance.

In a single, fluid motion, we enter her, our lengths sliding deep into her welcoming heat.

Selene cries out in ecstasy as we fill her, her wallsclenching around us. The sensation of being joined with her in such a primal way is intoxicating, and I can feel my control slipping further.

I pound into her relentlessly, driven by a primal urge to mark her as mine. Ronan matches my pace, our thrusts synchronizing as we ravage her body. The altar's energy surges, amplifying our pleasure and pushing us closer to the edge.

"Yes, yes, fuck me harder!" Selene screams, her voice echoing through the clearing. "Make me yours, Damien! Make me yours, Ronan!"

Our bodies slam together in a frenzied rhythm, the sound of flesh meeting flesh and our ragged breathing filling the air.

As we reach the peak of our pleasure, the energy around us reaches a fever pitch. The ancient altar beneath us pulses with power, the stone seams splitting open to reveal a swirling vortex of blue and purple light.

A deafening roar fills the air, shaking the ground beneath our feet. The energy surges through our bodies, intensifying our orgasms and leaving us gasping for breath.

When the light finally fades, we collapse onto the altar, panting heavily. Selene lies between us, spent but satisfied, her body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

"What just happened?" Selene murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

I prop myself up on my elbows, looking down at Selene with a mix of awe and concern. "It seems our lovemaking has awakened something ancient and powerful," I say, my voice strained. "The altar responded to our union, channeling the energy of our trinity."

Ronan sits up beside me, his brow furrowed. "This changes everything," he says, his tone grave. "If word gets out about what we've done here tonight, it could have far-reaching consequences."

I nod, my mind racing with possibilities. "We must keep this secret, at least until we understand the full extent of what we've unleashed. For now, we must focus on protecting Selene and ensuring that no harm comes to her because of our actions."

As if on cue, the shadows—those cursed creations of the Order—materialize at the edges of the clearing. They don’t advance, but they hover there, just outside the boundary, as if testing the invisible line that separates us. They ripple like smoke, dark and insidious, their forms barely recognizable but undeniably malevolent.

I glance at Selene. Her breathing quickens, eyes widening as she watches the shadows gather. Her fingers tighten on my arm. The clearing, once a place of eerie quiet, now feels suffocating, the weight of the dark entities pressing against the air. My instincts scream that we need to get out, but the shadows havesurrounded us completely, like hunters stalking prey, circling the altar where we stand.

“They’re not coming any closer,” Selene whispers, her voice strained but steady, her eyes darting between the shadowy forms.

“For now,” I murmur, feeling the tension in the air rise. I can’t shake the feeling that they’re waiting—waiting for something. Or someone.

As if summoned by the very thought, I hear it—footsteps crunching softly through the underbrush.

I look up, and my heart sinks. From the edges of the forest, emerging one by one, are the lesser warlocks—those who had been feral, lost to their hunger, the ones who had slipped into the hunt uninvited. They’ve come out of the shadows like predators, their eyes gleaming with hunger, their intentions unmistakable.

They encircle us, their gazes flickering from Selene to the altar, their feral instincts tugging at the edges of their barely-contained sanity. I feel Selene shift beside me, her breath hitching as she takes in the new threat.

The clearing feels smaller now, the air charged with dangerous intent.

We are trapped.

And there’s no way out.

Chapter

Thirty-Two

LUCIEN

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