THE BLOOD MOON OATH
The marble floor gleamed under Adunni’s heels as she walked deeper into the candlelit ballroom, each step cutting through murmurs and curiosity. In a room filled with silk, diamonds, and secrets, she moved like a storm in velvet.
Luca DeLuca didn’t greet her right away.
He stood at the edge of the balcony in a tuxedo so sharp it looked dangerous, one hand curled around a glass of wine the color of blood, the other shoved in his pocket. Those golden eyes locked on hers the moment she entered — dark, unblinking, predatory.
“You came,” he said, voice a low scrape of gravel and silk.
“I’m here for the artifact,” Adunni replied, her chin lifted. “Not the theatrics.”
He chuckled, slow and deliberate, like he already knew she was lying.
“And yet… your heartbeat’s telling me a different story.”
Her pulse did skip — once. But she didn’t flinch. “Your ego’s bigger than your empire.”
He stepped closer, closing the space like gravity, until she could feel his heat in the breath between them. “You know what I think, Adunni?”
“I’m not interested in your thoughts.”
“I think your body recognizes mine. On a level your mind hasn’t caught up to yet.”
Her breath hitched, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she held his gaze — fire to fire.
“Be careful, DeLuca,” she murmured. “I bite back.”
His eyes darkened, glowing faintly gold. Just for a second.
Then he leaned in, not touching, just a whisper of heat against her jawline. “Good,” he said, his voice nothing but breath. “I like a woman with teeth.”
