Page 73 of The Blood Moon Hunt

He arches an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but before he can press me further, he straightens, his eyes focusing on something unseen. “Damien and Ronan have just arrived at the manor,” he says, his voice suddenly sharp.

My heart lurches at the mention of Damien’s name. “They’re here?”

Adrian nods, his expression unreadable. “Yes. But something feels... off. We should go meet them.”

I stand, still clutching the book to my chest as we leave the library together. My mind races with everything I’ve just learned, but there’s no time to dwell on it now. Damien and Ronan are back, and whatever is about to happen next, I can feel the tension building, like the calm before a storm.

Chapter

Thirty-Nine

DAMIEN

The manor’s towering doors slam shut behind us just as the last of the shadows retreat, their hissing forms dissipating under the weight of the protective runes. We’ve barely made it. I can feel the toll it’s taken on all of us. My legs ache, my lungs burn, and every pulse of magic I forced through the fight feels like a raw wound.

Selene rushes to my side, her eyes wide with worry. “Damien!” Her hands reach for me, but I hold up a hand, trying to calm her down. “I’m fine,” I say, though the pounding in my skull tells me otherwise. I glance to my left and catch Ronan watching us, jealousy burning in his eyes. I know that look. He’s seething with it, barely holding back from saying something reckless.

We stumble deeper into the manor, into the safety of its enchanted walls. The magic here is old, strong. Runes from Adrian’s bloodline, stretching back generations, still guard the estate. I feel it settling around us, rejuvenating our depleted energy, though it’ll take time before we’re back to full strength.

“I can help you,” Selene insists, her voice trembling slightly. Her eyes flick to the injuries on my arm, and I can tell she’s desperate to do something, anything, after what just happened in the clearing.

Adrian steps forward, his voice calm but firm. “They just need time. Our powers will heal us on their own. This is how it works.”

Selene hesitates but then reluctantly nods, stepping back as we settle into the grand sitting room by the fire. The warmth helps, but the tension is palpable, crackling like a live wire between us all. Ronan glares into the flames, his posture tense. Lucien leans back, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Adrian sits beside me, his eyes thoughtful.

We sit in silence for a moment, each of us gathering our strength.

“We need a plan,” I say, breaking the silence. “We barely made it out of there.”

Selene steps forward again, her expression resolute. “I know what we need to do.”

I look at her, surprised. “You know?”

She nods, her eyes steady. “I know about the Order’s curse. I know why they’re after me.”

For a moment, my heart stops. She knows about the curse? I hadn’t expected her to have uncovered this much. I wonder how much more she knows—about the Order, about me, and my own ties to the curse.

“You know about the curse?” Lucien asks, incredulous. Adrian leans forward, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studies her.

Selene takes a deep breath, then continues. “Yes. And I know what I need to do. If we’re going to end this, we need to go back to the clearing. To the altar. At the height of the Blood Moon.”

The room goes still. Lucien is the first to speak, his voice dripping with disbelief. “You’re joking, right? We just barely got out of there alive, and you want us to go back?”

Adrian nods in agreement. “He's right. The altar has power, yes, but we don’t know how it works or what will happen if we go back. We should wait for the Blood Moon to wane. Once its influence is gone, the Order’s power will diminish, and we can make our move.”

Selene’s frustration boils over. “No! It has to happen at the height of the Blood Moon."

Adrian raises an eyebrow at her. "If you can't say with certainty why, I'm not sure we can take such a risk."

Selene's anger grows. "Risk? Do you notunderstand? You can't back to your lives after this, pretending none of this ever happened.”

“Maybe for you, but not for us,” Ronan snaps. His voice is cold, biting, as he stands, his fists clenched at his sides.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Selene glares at him, stepping forward, her hands balling into fists.

“It means,” Ronan sneers, “that you might have something to lose, but we don’t. We’ve been doing this for centuries. We don’t need your power or your altar to survive.”

“Enough,” I say, my voice cutting through the rising tension. “I trust her.”

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