Ginevra occupied my mind the whole time, but there were other things I needed to focus on.
The following night, I found myself in a luxurious dance club where Damien had been spotted on a few occasions. I passed through a throng of creatures of the night—vampires, shapeshifters, demons, wizards... you name it. The air buzzed with their energy, but none of them mattered. Not right now.
Getting into this place had been a struggle, but now I understood why. If Night Hunters were to bust this club, it would be nothing short of a massacre.
Where are you, Damien?
I scanned the room, hoping to spot him amidst the chaos. Finding an unoccupied settee, I took a seat, my eyes darting from face to face. Every person I glanced at held a secret—some I could almost taste, others I could barely sense. But none of them felt like Damien.
I grabbed a drink from a passing waiter, my hands restless. I tried to focus my senses, to pull something out of the air, anything that would point me in his direction.
Then, I felt it.
A woman on the far side of the dance floor was watching me. Her gaze was steady, calculating, and unnervingly intense. Was she watching me? Or was she looking past me? I couldn't tell, but instinct told me to stay alert.
I didn't want to make eye contact, so I kept my focus elsewhere, continuing my search. But the woman's gaze remained locked on me, and a creeping sense of danger began to coil in the pit of my stomach.
I knew the feeling all too well—something was off.
I should leave. Now.
I stood up quickly, my instincts kicking in, telling me to get the hell out of here. But as I turned toward the exit, the woman appeared right in front of me.
"Going somewhere?... Hunter," she purred.
I was about to sidestep her when a handful of people seemed to materialize out of nowhere, positioning themselves behind her in a protective stance.
One of them was unmistakably a vampire, the others likely werewolves. This night was about to get a whole lot worse.
I narrowed my eyes at the woman, who I assumed was a witch. "Get out of my way."
A few clubgoers had started to notice the tension brewing between us and quickly distanced themselves, sensing the danger. Through the sea of bodies, I spotted Damien standing at the exit. He gave me a sly smile, one that felt like it mocked me, and then—just like that—he slipped out of the club.
Shit. I had to catch up to him. If I let him get away now, I may not get another chance like this.
"I won't say it again, woman. Out of my way."
I took a step toward the exit, but before I could make any progress, I was hurled backward with such force that it felt like the entire club had just thrown me aside. I flew through the air, crashing against a table before tumbling across the floor.
"Think again!" one of the men with the witch shouted, his voice thick with menace.
I staggered to my feet, but two of them—both with hands engulfed in flames—were already approaching.
"Oh, come on," I muttered under my breath. This had to be the second-worst day of my life. It was one thing dealing with vampires and werewolves, but magic users? That was next-level bad omen territory.
Within seconds, their bodies were completely consumed by fire, flames licking at their skin like living things. The entire club erupted into chaos. Screams filled the air as people scattered, panic spreading like wildfire.
"Burn him," the witch commanded, her voice steady and cold.
A chill ran through my bones, deeper than any cold I had ever felt. There was a time in my life when death held no fear for me. I'd faced it without hesitation, without flinching. But now, standing here, surrounded by flames and the threat of magic, I knew this wasn't something I could easily escape.
A serpent of fire slithered through the nightclub, burning everything in its path. The air crackled with heat as it advanced, leaving a trail of scorched destruction. It surged toward me, and I barely managed to hurl myself out of its way, the flames licking at the edges of my jacket.
What was I without my runes against the night world? The temptation to use my angelic runes burned in the back of my mind, promising a quick end to this madness. But I knew better. Even if I emerged victorious, it would be short-lived. The consequences would be dire—chains, imprisonment, or worse, my head displayed on a pike as a warning to others.
"I've only just learned to use my wolf form. How am I supposed to get out of this?" I cussed internally.
The odds were stacked against me. My gaze darted around the room, scanning for a way out. If I shifted, I might be able to fight or at least make a break for the exit. But deep down, I knew the truth—I couldn't take them all on.
With a deep breath, I allowed the shift to take over. My bones cracked and stretched as fur rippled across my skin. In seconds, I was on all fours, a mass of claws and fangs. I lunged toward the exit, desperation fueling my every move. But just as I neared freedom, a ball of fire erupted in front of me, its searing heat forcing me to skid to a halt and leap back.
"Ncaww, did you turn into a puppy?" the woman cooed mockingly, her voice dripping with superiority.
She sauntered toward me, each step elegant, as if she had all the time in the world. Her predatory grin widened as her eyes roved over my wolf form. "Your fur would look perfect around my neck, don't you think?" She ran a slow hand over her neck as if imagining how I would look hung around her.
Her taunts made me angry, but I didn't move. I couldn't afford to make the wrong step, not now. I growled low in my throat, the sound a warning, but she only chuckled. This was a game to her—a game I had no choice but to play.