Page 2 of The Blood Moon Oath

Adrian turns his gaze back to Isadora. "So, witches are in danger. What do you propose we do?"

“In the past, witches learned control from their mothers, who passed down their knowledge, generation by generation. Without guidance, these new witches will be defenseless. A school—an academy—could help them learn, protect them, and prevent another massacre.”

Adrian’s gaze sharpens, and he leans back, folding his hands thoughtfully. “There is already a place like that—for warlocks, at least. It’s a long-standing institution where only the oldest and most elite families are accepted. The academy trains them in everything our bloodlines demand. My family oversees it.” His eyes flicker to me, contemplative. “But establishing a similar institution for witches could be… challenging. Mixing warlocks and witches in one place?” He shakes his head, a hint of doubt clouding his gaze. “That’s a risk not everyone may be willing to take.”

Isadora raises an eyebrow, her tone cool and resolute. “If coexistence is ever to be possible, that risk must be taken. We have a chance to create something new here, Adrian—something that could change everything for both warlocks and witches.”

He studies her for a long moment, clearly weighing her words. A reluctant nod eventually follows. “You have a point, but it’s more complex than it sounds. Not all warlocks will be receptive to this change, particularly the tribes in the north.” He glances at the others and explains, “The northern faction of warlocks—the Skarvolds—don’t adhere to our traditions of family hierarchy and status. They answer to power alone, and their ways are… brutal. Witches would be particularly vulnerable in those territories.”

A chill runs through me as he speaks. “Then that’s where we should begin,” I say, a newfound resolve in my voice. “If the northern regions are where the new witches will be in the most danger, then it’s the best place to start. We can’t afford to lose anyone—especially not when they’re just discovering who they are.”

Isadora’s eyes gleam with approval. “Selene’s right. Starting in the most dangerous places will give us the highest chance of protecting those most vulnerable. I can provide guidance,” she says, her gaze shifting back to me. “You may be the only one who can truly sense them, Selene. You freed the power of the witches when you took it from the Order. It may answer to you alone now.”

The weight of her words settles heavily in my chest. “So, I’ll be the one to find them?”

Isadora nods. “Yes. You have a unique connection to their power, and that will help you lead us to them. I’ll be there toguide you, to help you understand what you sense. But only you can forge this path.”

Adrian sighs, a glint of reluctant admiration crossing his face as he looks at me. “Then it seems you’re more vital to this plan than any of us. I’ll handle the academy side and ensure that our elite families understand what’s happening. Some might be willing to adapt their teachings to accommodate witches. But the Skarvolds and other independent warlocks… we’ll have to confront them more directly.”

Damien steps forward, his voice firm. “Then I’ll be with Selene. The Skarvolds and any other warlocks that threaten these new witches won’t stop us.” His eyes meet mine, intense and unyielding. “Wherever you go, I go.”

Ronan crosses his arms and nods, the corner of his mouth lifting in a defiant smirk. “Count me in, too. I’m not letting her out of my sight, especially in those regions.”

A warm but fierce gratitude swells within me as they speak. Lucien’s voice joins the others, steady and sure. “I’ll assist Adrian. It sounds like there’s a lot to do on this end if we’re to pull this off.”

Isadora nods approvingly, her sharp gaze settling on each of us in turn. “Then we each have our roles. I’ll begin gathering information about potential witches as Selene hones her abilities to sense them. We’ll travel to the northern regions and find any who might be awakening there.”

Adrian’s eyes narrow in thought. “We’ll need allies, even from factions that don’t adhere to our ways. Perhaps, with a demonstration of power and purpose, they’ll understand the importance of what we’re trying to achieve.”

Isadora holds his gaze, her face set with determination. “I believe we have a chance to bring real change. But we’ll need to act swiftly and carefully. With every new witch we find, the risk increases that otherswill, too.”

A weighty silence falls over the room as we each absorb the gravity of what lies ahead. Despite the risk, I feel a fierce resolve building inside me, a quiet understanding that this is the path I was always meant to walk.

“For a moment,” I say, looking around at the faces of the warlocks surrounding me, “it almost feels like we’re building something that goes beyond survival.” I meet Adrian’s gaze. “Something that could change the way things have always been.”

The fire crackles softly, casting flickering light across each of us, illuminating the unspoken promise binding us together. And for a heartbeat, as we look around the room, I feel that change begin to spark within us.

Chapter

One

SABLE WILDEWOOD

My footsteps are soft in the snow under my boots as I tail two warlocks who don’t even notice that they're being followed. Not unusual—they’re cocky by nature. They make their way down the road that leads into town, their laughter low, carrying through the empty night air like a warning.

They’re both tall, built like they spend hours every day honing their bodies into lethal shapes, with confident smirks and intense gazes that seem to peel back layers with a single look. One of them has tousled dark hair and a brooding expression that would make any sensible woman feel like he could save her, or ruin her—depending on his mood. His eyes, a startlingly deep shade of blue, roam the surroundings with a lazy kind of hunger.

The other one is lighter, with close-cropped blond hair and a sharp jawline that catches the low lighting just right. There’s an air of cocky nonchalance about him, a swagger that’s equalparts maddening and magnetic. His smirk is one of amusement, like he knows something about you that you don’t know yourself—and he’s just dying for you to find out. He’s the kind who could make anyone believe in whatever game he’s playing, right up until the moment he devours every last bit of them.

They move together effortlessly, like wolves in the hunt, eyes scanning with purpose. Just watching them puts a knot in my stomach, and not because of their looks—no, it’s the way their presence fills the space, their power humming like a warning signal only I can hear.

If I didn’t know who—or rather, what—they were, I might fall for their easy charm myself. But, I could never forget what their kind did to my family. The memories are etched deep, like scars that will never fade. I was fourteen when they came—warlocks with cold eyes and cruel hands, who took everything from me. My mother tried to fight them, but she was no match. And neither was I. I hid, trembling and helpless, watching as they stole the last shred of warmth from my life. When they left, all that remained was silence and ash, the smell of burned wood mingling with the memory of her whispered words.

My mother was one of the Mothers, part of a line of women tasked with protecting the balance between realms, who lived knowing that the Order had stolen the witches’ powers centuries before. The Order, ruthless and insatiable, had once roamed freely, burning witches at the stake to release their souls—until they discovered they could gain more power by taking their souls in moments of pleasure, bending witches to their will and consuming them. They didn’t just kill; they hunted, reveling in the chase, taking what they wanted. But my mother had always told me that this power they’d taken wasn’t truly theirs. She’d spoken in hushed tones about a prophecy, about the idea that thebalance could only be disrupted for so long before it snapped back.

After her death, I dedicated my life to stopping them—to hunting warlocks and ending them the way they ended us. I know what they are and what they’re capable of; I know how they use humans for their twisted needs, stealing bits of their souls until nothing is left. My mother had prepared me as best she could, passing down the knowledge of their realm and their power. I’d never been there—couldn’t even stomach the thought of it—but she’d taught me everything I’d need to know to survive, to make sure I was strong enough to hunt them.

I swore an oath to avenge the witches they burned, the families they destroyed. That oath has been my compass ever since, guiding me, keeping me on the path. I hunt because if I don’t, no one else will. I hunt because I can’t let them get away with what they’ve done. This isn’t just a mission—it’s my purpose, my life. And I’ll see it through until the end, or until it takes me.

---