The Blood Moon Hunt: A Dark, Paranormal, Why Choose Romance (Rites of the Blood Moon Book 1) by Morgan Mercy

Author:Morgan Mercy [Mercy, Morgan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-10-25T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Twenty-Eight

SELENE

The forest is endless, a labyrinth of trees that seem to close in on me with every step. The shadows are still behind me, slithering along the forest floor, relentless in their pursuit. I push myself harder, my lungs burning, my legs aching, but I can’t stop—not now. I can feel my magic bubbling just beneath the surface, but every time I try to summon it, it slips away, leaving me vulnerable.

My breath comes in sharp gasps as I fend off another wave of shadows, sending a pulse of energy toward them. It’s weak, barely enough to keep them at bay, but it gives me a moment to catch my breath. The cold air bites at my skin, and I shiver, more from fear than the chill. The shadows linger at the edges of my vision, waiting for me to falter.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.

Just when I think I can’t go any further, I break through the trees and stumble into a clearing. Relief floods through me as I spot a massive stone altar in the center of the space. The shadows that have been chasing me hesitate, retreating to the edge of the clearing as if something is holding them back.

The air here feels... different. Sacred, almost. I approach the altar cautiously, my steps slow and deliberate. The stone is ancient, weathered by time, and covered in markings I don’t recognize. As I reach out to touch it, a strange hum vibrates beneath my fingers, sending a jolt of energy through my body.

The markings—symbols and runes—are intricate, swirling together in a pattern that almost seems to come alive under my touch. There are carvings, too, images of four figures intertwined with lines of power, their forms shadowy but distinct. Something about it stirs something deep within me, though I can’t quite understand it yet. It’s like this place holds a key to something I’ve been searching for my entire life.

But just as I start to feel a sense of safety, a rustling in the trees pulls my attention away from the altar. I whip around, my heart pounding in my chest. Several figures step out from the shadows—lesser warlocks. Their eyes are wild, feral, and they’re looking at me like I’m the last prey left in the Hunt.

I instinctively reach for my magic, but it sputters weakly, barely a flicker of what it should be. There are too many of them, and I’m too drained. My stomach twists as they close in, encircling me.

My heart races as panic claws at my chest. I thought I was safe here, with Damien, Adrian, and Lucien watching over me. But now, I realize how foolish I was to believe that. The Hunt isn’t over—it’s only just begun.

One of the warlocks steps forward, a predatory smile on his lips as he raises his hand, magic sparking at his fingertips. I brace myself, ready to fight even though I know I can’t win.

Suddenly, there’s a loud crack, and the warlock closest to me is flung backward, crashing into the ground with a sickening thud.

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