Page 63 of The Blood Moon Hunt

Adrian sits across from me, leaning back in his chair, his eyes sharp as they watch me. He hasn’t said much, but I can feel the weight of his gaze, studying me, as if I’m some puzzle he’s trying to solve.

“What are they going to do to me?” I ask,my voice breaking the long silence. “The Order. Why are they so desperate to get to me?”

Adrian raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into that familiar, calculating smirk. “You already know, Selene. You’re not like the others. You’re not just some human girl caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

I shake my head, looking away. “But... I don’t understand. I’ve done things, terrible things with each of you, and?—”

“Stop that,” Adrian interrupts, his voice firm but not unkind. “That’s your human nature speaking. Guilt, remorse... they’re shackles, Selene. And you’re so much more than that. You have to let go of these petty emotions if you ever want to unlock your full potential.”

My heart pounds, and I glance back at him. He’s watching me intently, his eyes narrowing slightly. “But I don’t even know who I am.”

Adrian’s gaze softens, just a fraction. “I think you have an idea. The power you’ve shown, the way you’re drawn to us... to me, to Damien, to Lucien, and even to Ronan. It’s not a coincidence.”

I look down at my hands, twisting them together in my lap. “The altar. The symbols. What do they mean? I saw them light up after... after I was with Ronan.”

Adrian’s eyes darken slightly, his fingers tapping against the armrest. “The altar is old, far older than the Order itself. Those markings, they’re not just decorative. They’re part of something...significant.”

“Significant how?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He leans forward, his eyes locking onto mine. “The altar is a conduit of power. What you saw was a fragment of its magic being awakened. There’s something about you, Selene, something tied to that magic. You may have already sensed it—the way the power around you reacts when you’re with us, when you touch any of us. It’s not just desire. It’s something more.”

I swallow hard, my pulse quickening. “And what do you think I am?”

Adrian’s smirk returns, but it’s softer this time. “I think you’re a witch, Selene. Perhaps the last of your kind.”

I blink at him, the words hanging in the air, heavy and surreal. "A witch?" My voice comes out shaky, barely a whisper. The term feels so alien, so impossible. How could I be a witch? “No... I’m not... that can’t be right. I’m just?—”

“Just what?” Adrian interjects, tilting his head slightly, his gaze piercing. “Just a human? Just ordinary?”

I want to shout, to tell him that this is absurd, but my throat tightens, and the denial dies on my lips. My whole body feels like it’s on edge, teetering between reality and something else, something I can’t explain.

“This... this must be some kind of nightmare,” I mutter, hugging myself as if trying to ground myself insomething familiar. “Witches aren’t real. They’re fairy tales, old stories to scare children. I’m just... me.”

Adrian chuckles darkly, taking a step closer, his presence looming over me. “Fairy tales, yes. But every fairy tale is rooted in truth. You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The power inside you, stirring, growing stronger with every day that passes.” His eyes narrow as he searches mine. “You’ve already wielded it, even if you don’t fully understand it.”

I shake my head, stepping back instinctively. “No, it’s not... it’s not like that. I can’t... I don’t know what this is. It doesn’t make sense.”

Adrian watches me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, his voice softens, becoming almost gentle. “Tell me about your family, Selene. Were there any women who weren’t like the rest? Anyone who... disappeared or was kept away from the others?”

I frown, my mind racing as I try to grasp the meaning behind his question. “My family?” I repeat. “No, they’re... just normal. Politically connected, always wrapped up in appearances and social events. Nothing like... this.”

“Think,” Adrian insists, his gaze sharpening. “Look deeper. There had to have been someone. A woman who stood out, who didn’t follow the rules.”

I bite my lip, forcing myself to think back, to memories I hadn’t revisited in years. My family has alwaysbeen strict, bound by tradition and expectations. The women were always poised, controlled, dutiful... but...

“There was one,” I murmur, the memory surfacing slowly. “My aunt, Vivienne. She was... different. She never married, and my family barely spoke about her. She left when I was little. No one ever talked about where she went, and when I asked, they’d always brush it off, like she didn’t exist.”

Adrian’s eyes gleam with interest, and he nods. “Disappeared. Did they tell you why?”

“No,” I reply, shaking my head. “They just... ignored it. She wasn’t like the rest of them, though. I remember that. She was always kind to me. Different, in a way I can’t explain.”

“There you go,” Adrian says, as if it all makes perfect sense. “Maybe Vivienne was like you. Maybe she felt that same power, that same pull, and your family didn’t know what to do with her.”

The words make my stomach churn. Could that be true? Had Vivienne been like me? Could she have been... a witch?

“This is crazy,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “It doesn’t make any sense. I’m just a normal person. I don’t even know how to control whatever this is inside me, and you’re telling me I’m something out of a storybook?”

“You’re more than that,” Adrian says, his tone low and intense. “You’re the last of somethingancient, something powerful. The Order wants you because of it, and if you don’t learn to control it, you’ll either be consumed by your power... or by them.”

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