CRIMSON MOON

CHAPTER ONE (Selene’s POV) The city of Ravenshade was a graveyard of secrets, its streets paved with whispers and sins. It was the kind of place where the shadows had eyes, and the air was thick with the scent of rain and blood. I moved like a phantom through the darkness, my twin daggers strapped to my thighs, the comforting weight of my weapons anchoring me in the moment. The target tonight was a vampire—Lord Vincent Devereaux. One of the oldest, most dangerous creatures to ever crawl out of the underworld. He had power, wealth, and an insatiable thirst for dominance. And I was going to kill him. The intel led me to an abandoned cathedral on the outskirts of town. The place reeked of death, a lingering perfume of decayed roses and old blood. Gargoyles watched from the rooftop, their stone faces cracked with age, as if they had seen too much horror to remain unscathed. I stepped through the ruined entrance, my boots silent on the cold marble. Then I saw him. Not Devereaux. Someone worse. Damian Blackwood. Chained to the dungeon wall, his body bruised, his shirt torn, his dark hair falling messily over his forehead. Blood streaked his jaw, but his eyes—those goddamn golden eyes—locked onto mine with an intensity that hit me like a blade to the ribs. My breath caught. No. No, this wasn’t possible. Damian Blackwood was supposed to be dead. Five years ago, he had walked out of my life and straight into the hands of my enemies. He had disappeared without a word, without a trace. And now here he was, looking at me like he had been waiting for me all along. "Selene," he rasped, his voice hoarse, filled with something I couldn’t name. Rage. Relief. Maybe both. I took a step forward, my instincts warring against the ache in my chest. I wanted to kill him for leaving me. I wanted to touch him to make sure he was real. Then a slow, measured clap echoed through the cathedral. I turned sharply, my blades already in my hands. Devereaux stood at the altar, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. His suit was pristine, his posture relaxed—a king in his domain. "Ah, the infamous Crimson Huntress," he purred. "Come to collect my head?" I tightened my grip on the daggers. "Something like that." His smirk widened. "And yet, here you are, standing in front of an old flame, looking positively shattered. My, my. Fate is cruel, isn't it?" My pulse pounded, but I didn’t waver. "Let him go." Devereaux tilted his head. "Why should I?" Because I needed answers. Because despite every betrayal, every scar Damian left behind, some foolish, broken part of me still cared. And I hated myself for it. "You don’t need him," I said. "Your war isn’t with the wolves. It’s with me." Devereaux stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "Oh, Selene. It was never about the wolves." His smile sharpened. "It was always about him." Then he moved. Too fast. One second, he was yards away. The next, his cold fingers were wrapped around my throat, lifting me off the ground. I gasped, my daggers falling from my grip. "Selene!" Damian roared, the sound raw with desperation. He strained against the chains, his muscles tensing, but the silver shackles burned into his skin, holding him back. Devereaux’s grip tightened. "You were always a fascinating creature. But I wonder… how much are you willing to bleed for him?" The world blurred around me. My lungs screamed for air. Then, through the haze, I saw something. A shift in the shadows. A glint of gold. Damian’s chains snapped. And the next thing I knew, the room exploded into chaos. --- (Damian’s POV) Pain was nothing new to me. I had spent years buried beneath it—bones breaking, skin burning, my body a vessel for suffering. But nothing compared to the agony of watching Selene fall. Something inside me snapped. One second, I was bound. The next, I was free, the broken chains clattering to the ground. I lunged. Devereaux barely had time to react before I was on him. My claws tore through his suit, slashing across his chest. He snarled, his fangs bared, but I was already moving, already shifting. The beast inside me surged forward, my body contorting, stretching, transforming into something monstrous. Fur erupted across my skin. My vision sharpened, colors bleeding into a nightmarish clarity. The scent of Selene’s blood filled my senses, drowning out everything else. She was hurt. He had hurt her. And I was going to tear him apart. Devereaux recovered fast, faster than any vampire I had fought before. He twisted out of my grasp, his movements a blur, but I was already anticipating his next strike. This wasn’t just a fight. This was war. The old cathedral trembled with the force of our battle. Columns cracked, stone shattered beneath our blows. Somewhere in the chaos, Selene was moving—I could hear the rapid rhythm of her heartbeat, the sharp intake of her breath. Then, suddenly, Devereaux was gone. Vanished into the night like a ghost. Silence fell. I stood there, my chest heaving, my claws still extended, the beast still clawing at the edges of my control. Then I turned. Selene was on the ground, coughing, her fingers clutching at her throat where Devereaux’s hand had been. Her red leather jacket was torn, her hair disheveled, but she was alive. Relief crashed over me like a tidal wave. I took a step toward her. "Selene—" "Don’t," she snapped, her voice rough. Her eyes were burning, furious and broken all at once. I froze. She shoved herself to her feet, her breathing unsteady. "I don’t know what game you’re playing, Damian, but I’m not part of it." My jaw clenched. "It’s not a game." "Then explain," she said, her voice cold, her hands curling into fists. "Explain why you left. Explain why Devereaux had you locked up like an animal. Explain why the hell I shouldn’t put a dagger in your heart right now." I exhaled slowly. I had spent five years in the dark, running from a truth too dangerous to speak. But Selene deserved the truth. Even if it destroyed us both. I met her gaze and said the words I had been dreading. "Devereaux didn’t just capture me, Selene. He cursed me." The blood drained from her face. And in that moment, I knew—this was only the beginning. CHAPTER 1: THE PAST NEVER STAYS BURIED (Selene’s POV) Ravenshade was a city built on bones. Its streets were slick with rain, its alleyways filled with secrets, and its skyline was a jagged mess of forgotten towers and crumbling cathedrals. A place where the supernatural and the damned walked side by side, hidden in plain sight. I should have been used to it by now. Instead, I was standing in a cold, abandoned warehouse, watching a man I swore I would never see again. Damian Blackwood. The werewolf who vanished from my life five years ago, leaving nothing but a hollow ache in my chest and unanswered questions clawing at my mind. Now, here he was—bruised, bloodied, and looking at me like I was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. The air between us was thick with tension, the kind that made my pulse hammer in my ears. I hated that his presence still had that effect on me. Hated that some part of me still cared. "Start talking," I said, my voice sharp. "What the hell happened to you?" Damian exhaled, running a hand through his dark, disheveled hair. He was still the same, yet different—his body broader, his jaw sharper, his golden eyes darker, haunted. "You wouldn’t believe me if I told you." "Try me." His jaw clenched. "Devereaux framed me for murder. Had me exiled from my pack, stripped of my title. And then…" His voice dropped, rough and low. "He cursed me." The words sent a chill down my spine. Curses weren’t common, even in a world filled with monsters. Magic like that came at a price. A blood price. I folded my arms. "What kind of curse?" His gaze met mine, and for the first time since I found him, I saw something raw beneath the surface. Fear. Damian Blackwood was afraid. "You don’t want to know," he murmured. "Wrong answer." I stepped closer, my fingers itching to grab my daggers. "If I’m going to clean up your mess, I need to know exactly what I’m dealing with." His lips twitched in a humorless smirk. "Still the same Selene. Always ready for a fight." "Don’t test me, Blackwood." His smirk faded. He sighed, leaning against the rusted metal table behind him. "Devereaux didn’t just want me dead. He wanted me controlled. Whatever he did to me, it’s changing me." "Changing you how?" Damian hesitated. Then, in a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled up his sleeve. My breath caught. Dark veins twisted beneath his skin, pulsing with something unnatural. Something that didn’t belong. "Selene," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I don’t have much time." --- (Damian’s POV) The look in Selene’s eyes nearly undid me. She was a storm barely held together, all fire and steel, the kind of woman who never backed down from a fight. But right now, she wasn’t just looking at me—she was searching for the man she used to know. And I didn’t know if he still existed. I exhaled slowly, forcing the shifting under my skin to settle. The curse was getting worse. Each day, it pulled me closer to something monstrous, something unnatural even for a werewolf. Selene dragged a hand through her dark hair, her frustration evident. "So, let me get this straight. Devereaux exiled you, cursed you, and now you’re running out of time?" "That about sums it up." Her fingers curled into fists. "Dammit, Damian. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?" I wanted to tell her the truth. That I had tried. That Devereaux’s magic had kept me bound in the shadows, a prisoner in my own skin. But I couldn’t say that. Not when the past between us was already a minefield of shattered trust and unfinished business. "I didn’t have a choice." Selene scoffed, crossing her arms. "There’s always a choice. You just didn’t pick me." The words stung more than they should have. I pushed off the table, stepping toward her, closing the space between us. "If I had come back, I would have put you in danger." She tilted her chin up, defiant as ever. "I can handle danger." "I know," I murmured. "That’s what scares me." For a second, just a second, something flickered between us. Something that had been buried for years but never truly died. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. Selene sighed, shaking her head. "What do we do now?" I hesitated. "We?" "You think I’m letting you deal with this alone?" Her voice was sharp, but there was something else beneath it. Something almost… desperate. I clenched my fists. "Selene, this isn’t your fight." "Like hell it isn’t. Devereaux is my target. He’s always been my target. If he’s the one pulling the strings, I need to end this." I should have told her no. Should have warned her to stay away. But deep down, I knew the truth. Selene Vaughn was already in this fight. And whether I liked it or not, we were in it together.