Page 70 of The Blood Moon Hunt

Suddenly, a soft voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Miss Selene?”

I turn to find Gerald standing nearby, his hands neatly folded in front of him. His presence is as unassuming as ever, yet there’s something calming about it.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Gerald says gently, his eyes filled with concern. “What’s the matter?”

“I... I thought I heard someone,” I stammer, still catching my breath. “I thought I heard Damien.”

Gerald tilts his head slightly, studying me. “I see. But he’s not here, is he?”

“No.” I shake my head, still scanning the room as if Damien might materialize at any moment. “I know I heard him.”

He regards me carefully, as if weighing whether or not to believe me. “The manor can play tricks on you at times. It’s been known to... disorient people.”

I swallow hard, my thoughts racing. "It’s more than that. Something is happening, something I don’t understand."

Gerald looks at me with the patience of someone who’s seen far more than he lets on. “You’ve been through a lot, Miss. This is a strange place, and you’re not used to its... ways. Why don’t you come with me? We can talk as I walk you back to your room. It might help to clear your mind.”

I nod, biting my lip as I glance around the darkened hall. “I don’t know what’s real anymore,” I admit softly, wrapping my arms around myself. “This whole thing feels like a nightmare. They say I have these powers, and I’ve felt them, but I can’t control them. Not really. It scares me.”

Gerald’s eyes soften, and he gestures for me to walk with him. “It’s understandable to be frightened. You’re in the middle of something much larger than yourself. But you’re not as powerless as you think.”

We walk slowly down the hall, the silence stretching between us, and I feel an odd comfort in Gerald’s presence. He’s different from the others—calm, steady, almost like a tether to reality in this twisted game.

We reach the small sitting room connected to my bedroom. There's a fire already lit inthe hearth. He gestures for me to sit, and I do, pulling my legs up beneath me. He takes the chair across from me, folding his hands in his lap.

“Can I ask you something?” I say after a while. Gerald nods, waiting for me to continue. “You’ve been here for a long time, right? You’ve seen the warlocks grow up in this place.”

“That’s correct,” he replies. “I’ve been in the service of the warlocks for generations.”

“Then tell me about Adrian,” I say, my curiosity getting the better of me. “What was he like... before all of this?”

Gerald smiles faintly, his gaze drifting as if recalling a distant memory. “Adrian has always been... ambitious. Even as a boy, he was quick to learn and even quicker to manipulate the world around him. His family is one of the most powerful warlock bloodlines. They take great pride in their knowledge of the arcane, and Adrian’s been groomed for this path since birth.”

“He seems... cold,” I murmur, thinking back to his sharp, calculating gaze. “But sometimes... I don’t know, it feels like there’s more to him.”

“Adrian has mastered the art of detachment,” Gerald explains. “He views the world through a lens of logic and strategy. But don’t mistake that for a lack of feeling. His loyalty to his family and their legacy runs deep, though it comes at the cost of his vulnerability.”

I frown, absorbing the information. “And what about Lucien? He’s different.”

Gerald chuckles softly. “Lucien is... passionate. He thrives on chaos and unpredictability. His family values strength above all else, and Lucien has spent his life trying to prove that he’s the strongest. But deep down, I think he fears that he’s not enough. That’s why he pushes so hard.”

“Fear?” I ask, surprised. “Lucien doesn’t seem afraid of anything.”

“Ah, but fear isn’t always obvious,” Gerald says. “For Lucien, it’s the fear of failure. The fear of not living up to his family’s expectations. It drives him, but it also blinds him.”

I nod slowly, the pieces falling into place. “And Ronan?”

Gerald’s expression darkens slightly. “Ronan is... complicated. He’s driven by a hunger for power, more so than the others. His family was never as prestigious as Adrian’s or Lucien’s, but Ronan has fought his way to the top. He’s dangerous because he has nothing to lose.”

I shudder at the memory of my recent encounter with Ronan, the intensity of his desire still fresh in my mind.

As Gerald stands to leave, a sudden thought strikes me, and I speak before he can step out of the room.

“Wait,” I say, my voice catching in the quiet. “What about Damien?”

Gerald pauses, his hand resting on the doorframe. He turns back to face me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he’s silent, and I almost regret asking. But then, with a slow exhale, he walks back toward the fire and takes his seat again.

“Damien,” he murmurs, his tone thoughtful. “He’s not like the others, is he?”

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