Chapter 37Selene
Chapter
Thirty-Seven
SELENE
I wake to the sound of my own breath, soft and uneven, in the stillness of a bedroom. My body feels languid, the lingering heat from the night before and the long soak I took in a bathtub afterwards still humming through my veins. I blink into the darkness, feeling the weight of the silence settle over me. Adrian and Lucien are gone, and I’m alone.
The sensation of their touch still clings to me, lingering on my skin like an imprint I can’t shake off. But now that the moment has passed, confusion settles in, heavier than before. What am I doing? Why am I drawn to them like this? Each of them pulls at me in a way that defies logic. I can’t explain it. And what’s worse is that I can’t resist it.
Adrian says it doesn’t matter, that the guilt I feel over these encounters is just a product of my humanity. That my desires are part of something greater, something beyond my understanding. But isn’t my humanity the only thing I have left? Isn’t that what I am, at my core?
I try to reconcile the fire that burns through me whenever one of them is near, the way my body reacts instinctively, craving their touch. But it conflicts with everything I was taught, everything I believed. Growing up in a conservative family, I was taught to fear this kind of desire, to repress it, to see it as something sinful. Love and lust were things to be controlled, not given into. I had my first real kiss only a few years ago, and now... now I’m caught between four men who seem to ignite every part of me I’ve tried to keep buried.
My heart pounds as I sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. The manor is quiet—too quiet. The weight of what’s happened between me and Adrian, and then Lucien, settles like a stone in my chest. I’ve lost control. I’ve let them consume me, and for what? What does any of this mean?
And then there’s Damien. He was the first I felt that pull toward, the first to look at me like I was something more than prey. I can still feel his gaze on me, the way it pierced through all the walls I’ve tried to build. It’s not just the desire—it’s something deeper, something stronger. A bond I can’t shake.
Suddenly, I hear it—Damien’s voice. It’s faint, just barely audible, but unmistakable. My heart skips a beat, and I bolt to my feet, my pulse quickening. He’s calling me.
Without thinking, I rush out of the room, my feet padding softly against the stone floors as I race down the hallways. The air feels cooler outside my room, and the manor’s dark corridors seem endless as I follow the sound of his voice, my chest tightening with every step.
“Damien?” I call out, my voice echoing in the empty space.
I round a corner, hoping to see him standing there, but the hallway is deserted. My footsteps slow as I look around, confusion flooding my senses. I could’ve sworn I heard him.
Suddenly, a soft voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Miss Selene?”
I turn to find Gerald standing nearby, his hands neatly folded in front of him. His presence is as unassuming as ever, yet there’s something calming about it.
“It’s the middle of the night,” Gerald says gently, his eyes filled with concern. “What’s the matter?”
“I... I thought I heard someone,” I stammer, still catching my breath. “I thought I heard Damien.”
Gerald tilts his head slightly, studying me. “I see. But he’s not here, is he?”
“No.” I shake my head, still scanning the room as if Damien might materialize at any moment. “I know I heard him. ”
He regards me carefully, as if weighing whether or not to believe me. “The manor can play tricks on you at times. It’s been known to... disorient people.”
I swallow hard, my thoughts racing. "It’s more than that. Something is happening, something I don’t understand."
Gerald looks at me with the patience of someone who’s seen far more than he lets on. “You’ve been through a lot, Miss. This is a strange place, and you’re not used to its... ways. Why don’t you come with me? We can talk as I walk you back to your room. It might help to clear your mind.”
I nod, biting my lip as I glance around the darkened hall. “I don’t know what’s real anymore,” I admit softly, wrapping my arms around myself. “This whole thing feels like a nightmare. They say I have these powers, and I’ve felt them, but I can’t control them. Not really. It scares me.”
Gerald’s eyes soften, and he gestures for me to walk with him. “It’s understandable to be frightened. You’re in the middle of something much larger than yourself. But you’re not as powerless as you think.”
We walk slowly down the hall, the silence stretching between us, and I feel an odd comfort in Gerald’s presence. He’s different from the others—calm, steady, almost like a tether to reality in this twisted game.
We reach the small sitting room connected to my bedroom. There's a fire already lit in the hearth. He gestures for me to sit, and I do, pulling my legs up beneath me. He takes the chair across from me, folding his hands in his lap.
“Can I ask you something?” I say after a while. Gerald nods, waiting for me to continue. “You’ve been here for a long time, right? You’ve seen the warlocks grow up in this place.”
“That’s correct,” he replies. “I’ve been in the service of the warlocks for generations.”
“Then tell me about Adrian,” I say, my curiosity getting the better of me. “What was he like... before all of this?”
Gerald smiles faintly, his gaze drifting as if recalling a distant memory. “Adrian has always been... ambitious. Even as a boy, he was quick to learn and even quicker to manipulate the world around him. His family is one of the most powerful warlock bloodlines. They take great pride in their knowledge of the arcane, and Adrian’s been groomed for this path since birth.”
“He seems... cold,” I murmur, thinking back to his sharp, calculating gaze. “But sometimes... I don’t know, it feels like there’s more to him.”
“Adrian has mastered the art of detachment,” Gerald explains. “He views the world through a lens of logic and strategy. But don’t mistake that for a lack of feeling. His loyalty to his family and their legacy runs deep, though it comes at the cost of his vulnerability. ”
I frown, absorbing the information. “And what about Lucien? He’s different.”
Gerald chuckles softly. “Lucien is... passionate. He thrives on chaos and unpredictability. His family values strength above all else, and Lucien has spent his life trying to prove that he’s the strongest. But deep down, I think he fears that he’s not enough. That’s why he pushes so hard.”
“Fear?” I ask, surprised. “Lucien doesn’t seem afraid of anything.”
“Ah, but fear isn’t always obvious,” Gerald says. “For Lucien, it’s the fear of failure. The fear of not living up to his family’s expectations. It drives him, but it also blinds him.”
I nod slowly, the pieces falling into place. “And Ronan?”
Gerald’s expression darkens slightly. “Ronan is... complicated. He’s driven by a hunger for power, more so than the others. His family was never as prestigious as Adrian’s or Lucien’s, but Ronan has fought his way to the top. He’s dangerous because he has nothing to lose.”
I shudder at the memory of my recent encounter with Ronan, the intensity of his desire still fresh in my mind.
As Gerald stands to leave, a sudden thought strikes me, and I speak before he can step out of the room.
“Wait,” I say, my voice catching in the quiet. “What about Damien? ”
Gerald pauses, his hand resting on the doorframe. He turns back to face me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he’s silent, and I almost regret asking. But then, with a slow exhale, he walks back toward the fire and takes his seat again.
“Damien,” he murmurs, his tone thoughtful. “He’s not like the others, is he?”
I shake my head. “No... he isn’t. He feels... different. From the moment I saw him, I knew there was something about him. But I don’t understand what it is.”
Gerald nods slowly, as though he’s been expecting this question. “Damien wasn’t born into this world the way Adrian or Lucien were. His family wasn’t one of the ancient warlock bloodlines, tied to the Order for generations. In fact, Damien didn’t know what he was until much later.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, my curiosity piqued. “If he wasn’t born into this... how did he become part of the Hunt?”
Gerald leans back, folding his hands in his lap. “The Order has a way of... finding those who can serve them. Damien was chosen, handpicked by the Order itself. They saw something in him, something rare and powerful. His role as the facilitator of the Hunt isn’t just about overseeing the game—it’s about balance. He maintains the delicate equilibrium between the warlocks, the prey, and the Order. He’s their instrument, in many ways, though I suspect he resents it. ”
“Chosen?” I echo, my brow furrowing. “Why him?”
Gerald shrugs slightly. “Damien has an extraordinary strength, a connection to powers that most warlocks can only dream of. But it’s not without its cost. He didn’t seek this life, Selene. It was forced upon him. The Order gave him power, but in return, they control him. His life is tied to them, just as much as the other warlocks, if not more. But unlike Adrian and Lucien, who were groomed from birth for their roles, Damien was thrust into it.”
A chill runs down my spine at his words. “So... the Order owns him?”
Gerald’s lips press into a thin line. “In a sense, yes. His role as facilitator binds him to the Order in ways even he can’t fully break. He has more autonomy than the others in some respects, but the weight of his position is heavy. And the Order keeps him on a short leash, constantly feeding him power throughout the year. It’s their way of ensuring he remains loyal to them.”
I process this information slowly, feeling the knot in my chest tighten. “And the Hunt? What’s his part in that?”
Gerald’s gaze sharpens slightly. “The Hunt is his responsibility. He’s tasked with ensuring that everything runs smoothly, that the rules are followed, and that balance is maintained. But...”
“But what?” I press, sensing there’s more.
“But this year is different,” Gerald continues, his voice lowering. “The presence of the Blood Moon, the appearance of someone like you... it’s thrown everything out of balance. I suspect Damien feels conflicted about his role in all of this. You’ve changed something in him, Selene. I can’t say what exactly, but I know he’s torn between his duty to the Order and whatever bond he feels with you.”
A shiver runs through me, the weight of Gerald’s words settling over me like a heavy blanket. Damien, bound to the Order, yet somehow connected to me in a way that defies everything I’ve been told. It makes sense, and yet it doesn’t. He’s supposed to be their enforcer, their tool. But I’ve felt something else when I’m near him. Something protective, something more than just duty.
“I don’t understand,” I murmur, shaking my head. “If he’s tied to the Order, why would he—” I stop myself, realizing that even now, I’m not entirely sure what I’m asking. Why would he help me? Why does he seem so different from the others? Why does he feel so... protective?
Gerald watches me carefully, his gaze softening. “There are things even Damien doesn’t fully understand, I think. The Order may have chosen him, but that doesn’t mean they own his heart. He’s still a man, Selene. And men are often swayed by forces stronger than any magic.”
I feel my breath hitch, my heart pounding in my chest. Damien... a man caught between two worlds. Caught between his duty to the Order and whatever strange connection we share.
“Do you think he’ll... betray them?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
Gerald considers this for a long moment, then shakes his head. “I don’t know. But if anyone could, it would be him.”
The weight of those words settles over me, and for a brief moment, I feel like I’m drowning in all the unknowns that surround me. Damien, the Order, the Hunt... it’s all so much bigger than I ever imagined. And I’m right in the center of it.
“Why is it so hard to control my powers around them?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like they bring out something in me, and I can’t stop it.”
Gerald studies me for a moment before replying. “The bond between a witch and a warlock is... complex. They amplify each other’s power, sometimes in ways that neither of them can fully control. Your emotions are tied to your magic, and the warlocks... they evoke emotions in you, don’t they?”
I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I feel like I’m losing myself around them.”
Gerald smiles kindly. “You’re not losing yourself, Miss Selene. You’re discovering who you truly are.”
His words stir something deep inside me, a flicker of hope mingled with fear. “But I don’t know how to control it.”
“Perhaps you need to understand more about what you are,” Gerald suggests, his voice thoughtful. “The library here is vast, filled with knowledge from generations of warlocks. Perhaps you’ll find something there that will help you.”
I glance toward the shadowed corridors, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me. “You think I’ll find answers in the library?”
Gerald nods. “I do. You may find the guidance you need to master your power. But remember, Miss Selene, nothing is as it seems.”
Gerald rises from his seat, watching me carefully as I sit there, lost in thought. “You’ll find your answers, Miss. In time.”
I nod, though the uncertainty still gnaws at me. I have to find a way to understand all of this—before it consumes me whole.