Page 11 of The Blood Moon Oath

I stiffen as he circles me, his gaze making my skin prickle. “Don’t touch me,” I hiss.

He chuckles darkly, leaning in close, the scent of metal and something wild curling around me like a noose. “Oh, but you’ll like it when I do, I promise,” he purrs, his voice sinfully smooth, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. His next words are a whisper, meant just for me. “You’ll like it evenmore when we play. But don’t worry, I’ll wait until Alpha lets me have you.”

Alpha. The title confirms what I’ve suspected—Kael is the one in charge. It’s in the way they defer to him, the way they shift when he speaks, even Torin with his unhinged bravado. They call him Alpha because he’s their leader, their strongest, the one they all answer to. And from what I’ve seen so far, he knows it. It’s woven into the way he moves, the calm confidence of someone who’s never been bested.

I glare at Torin, my throat tightening with suppressed rage and something I refuse to name. But before I can spit a retort, Kael’s voice cuts through the air from behind him, smooth and commanding as always.

“Enough, Reaper. Back off.”

Torin grins, his fingers twitching like he’s itching for an excuse to ignore the command, but he steps back. Barely.

“You’ll excuse me if I skip your little dinner party,” I bite out, directing my anger at Kael now. His icy eyes meet mine, cool and unbothered, and he tilts his head slightly.

“You’ll come,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a dark smile. He leans in closer, his voice a low growl that drips with sinful intent. “In more ways than one, little huntress.”

The words send heat rushing to my face, but before I can snap back, his hand moves lazily, as if he’s plucking a thread from the air. Suddenly, the space around me shifts. It feels as though invisible cords wrap themselves tightly around my body, silken and inescapable, tugging me forward. My heart races as my feet move of their own accord, dragging me closer to the door.

My body jerks against my will, my feet dragging across the floor as I stumble to follow them. I try to fight it, digging my heels in, but it’s like trying to stop the tide. Kael flickshis wrist again, and the pull tightens, forcing me to keep pace as he strides toward the door.

“If you won’t come under your own power, you’ll come under mine,” he says, his tone calm but final.

Torin falls into step beside me, his movements fluid and predatory. He leans in close, the heat of him brushing against my skin. “Keep disobeying him,” he whispers, his voice dripping with wicked amusement. “The more you fight, the more likely they’ll give you to me. And oh, little kitten, I’d savor every second. I’d love to see what it takes to really break you. Would it be pain? Or maybe...” His lips brush near my ear, his voice a dark caress. “Maybe you’d beg for something else entirely.”

A shiver races down my spine, and to my horror, it’s not entirely from fear. His words are a trap, one that coils around my senses like a snake. My breath catches, and for a brief, shameful moment, an image flickers in my mind—his rough hands on my skin, those dark eyes devouring me.

What is wrong with me?

Anger surges, drowning the confusing ache building in my chest. I bite down on the desire threatening to unravel me, clenching my fists as if the motion alone can hold me together. I’ve spent years loathing warlocks, hunting them, swearing to destroy them. I won’t let some unhinged sadist mess with my head.

“Don’t hold your breath,” I manage, my voice sharp enough to cut, though the tremor in it betrays me.

Torin chuckles low and slow, a sound that’s both infuriating and maddeningly enticing. “Oh, I won’t. But you will, little kitten. You will.”

My jaw tightens as I force myself to focus on the room ahead, every step reminding me of the fight I have to win—not against him, but againstmyself.

We reach Kael’s quarters, though quarters is an understatement. The space feels like a grand hall, with vaulted ceilings and a long, dark wooden table set for a feast. A roaring fire bathes the room in golden light, and silver chandeliers overhead cast glimmers across the stone walls. The air smells of roasted meat and spiced wine, and my stomach betrays me, growling at the scent.

“Sit,” Kael commands, motioning to the head of the table. “We have much to discuss.”

I hesitate, my gaze flicking to Finn and Torin, who take their seats with an air of casual dominance. Finn lounges, swirling a goblet of wine, while Torin sits with one leg sprawled out, carving patterns into the table with a small knife.

Kael pulls out the chair across from me and sits with an effortless grace, his dark suit impeccable despite the day’s events. “You might as well eat. You’ll need your strength.”

I stay on my feet, crossing my arms. “Strength for what? Being your prisoner?”

His brow arches, and a ghost of a smirk touches his lips. “For answering questions. If you don’t, well…” He glances at Torin, who grins wolfishly.

“You’re lucky,” Torin says, leaning forward, the firelight catching the tattoos that snake up his neck. “I’ve been told I’m very persuasive. Shouldn't take long, unless you want it to.”

I shoot him a glare, finally sitting, if only to stop the conversation from spiraling further. My hands curl into fists on my lap as I try to ignore Torin’s leering grin and Finn’s sharp, watchful gaze.

Kael picks up his goblet, tilting it toward me slightly, the firelight catching the sharp angles of his face. “Let’s begin with introductions. I am Kael, and these are my brothers, Finn and Torin. Occasionally, we go by our tribe names—Alpha, Ghost,and Reaper,” he adds with a faint smirk, his gaze locking on mine. “But since you’re not part of the tribe, I wouldn’t expect you to address us like that. You, little huntress, may stick to our given names. For now.”

Torin grins wickedly, leaning forward just enough to make me uncomfortable. “Unless you’re begging. Then I might make an exception.”

“Torin,” Kael says without looking at him, his voice a quiet warning.

Torin raises his hands in mock surrender, though his grin never falters. “Fine. But I bet she’d sound sweet saying it.”

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