CRIMSON MOON

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER 3: SHADOWS IN THE DARK

(Damian’s POV)

The monster inside me was getting stronger.

I could feel it, pressing against my ribs, curling around my bones like a parasite. It wanted out. It wanted blood.

I stood over the vampire’s lifeless body, my breathing ragged, my muscles still locked in the remnants of my cursed transformation. I could still hear his final words ringing in my ears.

“You’re already too late. He’s coming for you both.”

Devereaux.

Selene was watching me, her daggers still in hand, her dark eyes scanning me for any sign that I wasn’t myself.

She wasn’t wrong to be cautious.

I had nearly lost control back there. And if she hadn’t stopped me, I didn’t know if I would’ve been able to pull myself back from the edge.

"How bad is it?" she asked, her voice tight.

I exhaled slowly. "It’s getting worse."

Selene didn’t look surprised. She looked angry.

"Then we don’t have time to waste," she said, turning away and striding toward the exit. "We need to find Devereaux before he finds us."

I hesitated. "And do what? Walk into his lair and demand he lift the curse?"

She shot me a look over her shoulder. "If that’s what it takes."

That was the problem.

Devereaux didn’t do anything without a price.

And I had a feeling that whatever he wanted from me, it wasn’t something I could afford to give.

---

(Selene’s POV)

The city was alive with shadows.

I walked through the rain-slicked streets of Ravenshade, Damian beside me, both of us silent as we moved through the alleys like ghosts.

I could feel the tension radiating off him, his body wound tight, his eyes scanning every corner like he expected an attack at any moment.

I knew that feeling.

It was the same one I had carried with me for years. The feeling of being hunted.

"We need information," I said. "And I know just where to get it."

Damian glanced at me, his golden eyes dark with suspicion. "Where?"

"The Black Thorn."

His jaw tightened. "You’re serious?"

"As a heart attack."

The Black Thorn wasn’t just a bar—it was a neutral zone, an underground den where criminals, bounty hunters, and supernatural creatures gathered to trade secrets, sell information, and drown their sins in whiskey and bad decisions.

If there was dirt on Devereaux, the Black Thorn would be the place to find it.

Damian exhaled, running a hand through his still-damp hair. "You really think anyone there will talk?"

I smirked, flipping my dagger between my fingers. "They always talk. Sometimes it just takes a little persuasion."

His gaze flickered to my blade. "Right. And by persuasion, you mean threats."

I shrugged. "Works every time."

Damian sighed, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he fell into step beside me as we wound our way through the back alleys of Ravenshade, where the real city lived—the one built in blood and betrayal.

The Black Thorn was nestled between two abandoned warehouses, its only sign a single thorny vine carved into the rotting wooden door. The moment I stepped inside, the scent of smoke, sweat, and alcohol wrapped around me like an old, familiar cloak.

Eyes turned toward us immediately.

Some with curiosity. Others with recognition. Most with fear.

Good.

"Selene Vaughn," a gruff voice drawled from behind the bar. "Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon."

I turned my gaze toward the bartender. Tobias Kane. A towering man with a jagged scar running down the side of his throat—a reminder of the last time someone tried to slit it. He was human, but he ran the Black Thorn with the kind of ruthless efficiency that earned him respect among even the deadliest creatures in Ravenshade.

I leaned against the bar. "I need information."

Tobias wiped his hands on a rag, giving me an amused look. "And what makes you think I have it?"

I slid a silver coin across the counter. "Because you always do."

His eyes flickered between me and Damian before he pocketed the coin with a sigh. "Fine. What are you looking for?"

"Devereaux," I said. "I need to know what he’s planning."

The second the name left my lips, the room shifted. Conversations dropped to murmurs. A few people got up and left altogether.

Tobias’s expression darkened. "You don’t want to go looking for him, Selene. He’s not playing by the old rules anymore."

"I don’t care about the rules."

Tobias studied me for a long moment, then sighed. "Word is, Devereaux’s been gathering something. Artifacts, spellcasters, creatures willing to trade their souls for power. No one knows what he’s building, but it’s big. Bigger than anything he’s ever done before."

My stomach twisted. That wasn’t good.

"And the curse?" Damian asked, his voice rough.

Tobias hesitated. "That, I don’t know. But I can tell you this—if Devereaux cursed you, it’s because he wants to use you for something. And trust me, you don’t want to find out what that is."

Damian’s jaw tightened.

I clenched my fists. "Where is he?"

Tobias shook his head. "No one knows. He moves constantly. But if you really want to find him, there’s someone who might be able to help."

I narrowed my eyes. "Who?"

Tobias hesitated, then leaned in slightly. "The Oracle."

Damian stiffened beside me.

I swore under my breath. "Of course. Because this night wasn’t complicated enough."

The Oracle wasn’t just some fortune teller with cheap tricks. She was old magic, something even the monsters of Ravenshade feared. No one saw her unless she wanted to be seen.

If she had answers… then that meant Devereaux’s plans were already in motion.

Tobias tapped the counter. "If you’re serious about this, you’d better move fast. Word on the street is, someone else is already looking for her."

"Who?" Damian asked.

Tobias’s gaze flickered toward him. "Devereaux’s second-in-command."

Silence hung between us.

I knew exactly who that was.

Lord Vincent Devereaux’s right hand, his personal assassin.

Lucian Graves.

Damian cursed under his breath. "Looks like we’re not the only ones hunting tonight."

I sheathed my dagger. "Then we’d better get moving."

We turned to leave, but Tobias’s voice stopped us.

"Selene."

I looked back.

His expression was unreadable. "Be careful. Whatever Devereaux is planning—it’s bigger than just you and Damian. This whole city might burn before it’s over."

I didn’t say anything.

Because deep down, I already knew.