Page 7 of The Blood Moon Hunt

Damien steps forward again, his voice deepening as he speaks. “The Hunt begins now,” he announces, and the seriousness in his tone makes my heart skip a beat. “And remember—nothing is as it seems.”

The moment the words leave his lips, the crowd responds in unison, their voices echoing through the room. “Nothing is as it seems.”

A chill runs through me, and suddenly the red neon lights begin to flicker, the world around me darkening until we’re plunged into complete darkness. My heart lurches in my chest as panic claws its way up my throat. I can’t see anything—not even my own hand in front of my face.

And yet... I can still feel him.

I can feel Damien’s eyes on me, even through the darkness. It’s like a tether between us, a current of energy that binds me to him, keeping me still even when my instincts scream at me to run.

The air shifts again, colder now, and for a moment Ihear nothing but the pounding of my own heart. I reach out, searching for something to ground me, but my fingers meet only empty space. It’s disorienting, and my pulse races faster, my breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

Then, slowly, the lights begin to rise again. But when they do, my stomach drops.

I’m no longer in the club.

I’m in a cage.

Cold metal bars surround me, and as I glance around, I see that I’m not alone. The other women who stayed are in cages too, scattered across a forest clearing that wasn’t there before. The air smells damp and earthy, the trees towering above us, their branches casting long, eerie shadows over the ground.

My heart races, panic rising as I take in the scene. In front of us, lined up and watching us like predators, are the men. All of them. The ones from the dance floor, the ones who wore the skull masks—they’re all here. And at the front, separated from the rest, stand the four men from the platform. Damien is in the middle, his eyes locked on me, just as they were before.

But the other men... they’re different now. Feral. Their eyes gleam with hunger, their movements jerky and wild, like animals waiting to be released from a cage of their own.

Terror surges through me. This isn’t a game. This is real.

I glance at my friends, hoping they’ll see the danger too, but Lila is smiling, still convinced this is all some elaborate show. Tessa looks curious, and Evie is practically vibrating with excitement. They don’t get it. They don’t see the danger we’re in.

But I do. And I know that if we don’t get out of here, we’re all in serious trouble.

Chapter

Five

DAMIEN

The clearing is still, save for the shuffling of the prey inside their cages. My eyes scan the rows of them, lingering on Selene. I know exactly where she is—could pick her out from a mile away. There's no way Adrian, Ronan, or Lucien haven’t felt it too, the subtle thrumming of her power in the air, but whether they’ve pinpointed it to her yet, I can’t say. Not yet.

I fold my arms, watching the various expressions of the women trapped inside their cages. Some of them are terrified, clinging to the bars, eyes wide and darting around as if they’ve just realized this isn’t the game they thought it was. Others look like they think they’re at some elaborate Halloween amusementpark ride, unaware of the danger that’s about to unfold.

But Selene—she’s different. She’s not panicking, nor is she dismissing this as a joke. She’s watching, her eyes sharp and calculating, as though she’s starting to piece together exactly what’s at stake. Her body is tense, coiled, but there’s no panic. Only awareness.

That awareness makes me nervous. I can feel her pull, that undeniable magnetism unlike anything I’ve felt before. Her power hums in the air like a live wire, and I know that once these cages are opened, it won’t be long before the others sense it, too. Even in the frenzy of the Hunt, they’ll find her.

What are you, Selene?I think to myself.

She can’t be human. I know that much. Not with the way her magic sings to me, like a signature etched into the air. It’s similar to how I recognize the magical signatures of the other warlocks—distinct, alive, and undeniable. But hers is different. Stronger. More... dangerous.

It can’t be...I push the thought away, but it gnaws at me. Witches have been extinct for centuries, hunted by warlocks for the power of their souls. Unlike humans, a witch’s soul isn’t just consumed; it provides a warlock with protection and power for life. Every warlock knows that. And yet... Selene’s power signature feels similar. Too similar.

If she’s a witch... if the others realize it...She won’t survive this.

My thoughts are interrupted by a sharp, invasive pressure in my mind—the Order. Their presence is unmistakable, a voice that cuts through everything.It’s time, Damien. Begin the Hunt.

I grind my teeth, pushing their command from my mind. It’s always like this—imposing, ever-present, but I have no choice but to obey. I step forward, forcing myself to remain composed.

At exactly midnight, I begin the ritual, muttering the words under my breath. The phrase we’ve always used for centuries: “Nothing is as it seems.” It echoes from my lips, and the others join in, the words hanging in the air like a curse.

The moment the phrase is complete, a deep gong reverberates through the clearing, the sound vibrating through the ground beneath us. The cages shimmer for a brief moment, the magic holding them dissolving into the air until the bars are gone.

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