Page 17 of The Blood Moon Oath

My cock stirs at the memory, a traitorous reminder of just how much she affected me. I’ve bedded women before, plenty of them, but none have ever sparked this kind of hunger in me. Not even the rare human ones who dared to play at taming a warlock’s lust. There’s something about her—something Ican’t quite put my finger on, but it calls to me in a way I haven’t felt in years. Decades, even.

She’s not just strong. She’s dangerous. That display at dinner wasn’t just an accident; it was a warning. Yet, even as I acknowledge the risk, I can’t stop the way my body reacts to her. The way my thoughts stray to what it would feel like to have her beneath me, clawing and scratching, fighting me every step of the way.

But she’s not human. She can’t be. Humans don’t wield power like that. Could the stories be true? The tales whispered in the dark about what might rise if the balance between our kind and theirs ever shifted? It seems impossible, and yet…

I take a deep breath, willing my cock to calm and my thoughts to steady. If she is what I think she might be, it changes everything. Not just for me, or for Ghost and Reaper, but for all warlocks.

I take another sip of the amber liquid, letting it burn down my throat. The firelight flickers, casting her image in my mind once more. Her fierce defiance. Her trembling power. Her beauty that’s as lethal as her will.

And that dress.

Ghost swears he’s done with women, his disdain for them practically written in stone. Yet he put her inthatdress, a deep red number that clung to every curve, teasing every glance. It was unlike him—calculated, perhaps, but still revealing something he wouldn’t openly admit. Ghost doesn’t make mistakes, so the choice of that dress? That was no accident.

I glance at the glass in my hand, the amber liquid trembling as I swirl it again. Ghost knew exactly what he was doing with that dress. He’s no fool. But the way she looked in it—the wayIlooked at her in it—was proof of just how dangerous she really is.

The way the fabric skimmed her skin, the plungingneckline drawing the eye like a moth to flame... My jaw clenches at the memory. My cock stirs again, hardening as I picture her standing there, defiant and furious, not realizing how she commanded the room without even trying. The dress was a trap in itself, designed to showcase the very thing she didn’t want us to see—her vulnerability and her power, all wrapped up in that maddeningly irresistible package.

I swallow hard, shifting in my chair as the thought lingers. The desire to rip that dress from her, to reveal the skin beneath, to see her undone... It’s visceral, primal, and unwelcome. I’ve had plenty of women—too many, perhaps—but none of them ever looked at me the way she does. Like she sees through me. Like she’s daring me to try and break her, knowing she’ll fight me every inch of the way.

And I would fight her. Not just to conquer her, but because I know she’d fight back. She wouldn’t crumble, wouldn’t surrender easily, and that would make her submission all the sweeter.

I rake a hand through my hair, trying to banish the image of her from my mind. But it’s no use. The dress, her defiance, the fire in her eyes... They’re seared into me now, an unwanted brand that stirs something darker, something I thought I’d buried long ago.

Whatever she is, she’s not just a threat. She’s a temptation. And both could be our undoing.

The door creaks open, and Ghost steps in, quiet as always. His silver rings glint in the low light as he shuts the door behind him, leaning against the frame. There’s something sharp in his expression, more so than usual.

“I had to kick Reaper out of her room,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact but with a flicker of annoyance.

I raise an eyebrow, setting the glass down on the polished table beside me. “Is she still in one piece?”

Ghost nods, crossing his arms. “She is. What’s more interesting is how she was responding to him.”

“Responding?” The word slips out before I can stop it, my curiosity piqued.

Ghost steps closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “Reaper was enjoying himself. Playing with her in a way I haven’t seen before. She wasn’t completely shutting him out, either. There was something...mutual there.”

I lean back in my chair, the leather creaking beneath me. This is a complication I don’t need. “She could be dangerous for the three of us,” I mutter, my voice low.

Ghost’s lips twitch into something resembling a smirk. “She could be dangerous for the two of you.” His tone carries a subtle jab, and I stiffen.

“Oh, that’s right,” I say, leaning forward slightly. “You’ve sworn off women, haven’t you?” The words are out before I can think better of them.

Ghost’s face hardens, the smirk vanishing like smoke in the wind. I curse myself internally. “Ghost?—”

“Don’t,” he says sharply, cutting me off. He rolls the ring between his fingers, his eyes fixed on the fire. “We need to figure out what she is. That should be our focus. Whatever she is, it’s what’s allowed her to hunt our kind so efficiently.”

I nod, taking the out he’s offered and changing the subject. “Agreed. But everything about her is unstable. As we saw at dinner, pushing her too hard could backfire on all of us.”

“And we can’t forget about Rothgar,” Ghost adds, his voice grim as he straightens. “His position in the hierarchy is growing stronger. He’s close to challenging us.”

I scowl at the name, my grip tightening on my glass. Rothgar. The bastard has been circling for months, gathering allies, testing our strength without outright declaring his intentions. “He’s not ready yet,” I say. “He doesn’t have the support he needs.”

“Not yet,” Ghost concedes. “But it’s only a matter of time. He’s been working the smaller tribes, picking off the weaker ones to bolster his numbers.”

“He’s a vulture,” I growl. “Feeding off scraps and pretending he’s a predator.”

Ghost’s expression darkens, his usually calm demeanor slipping for a moment. “We’ll have to deal with him sooner or later.”

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