The forest was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that pressed into his bones and whispered secrets into his ears.

Stefan knew its rhythm intimately. The soft sigh of the wind moving through the towering pines. The brittle crunch of leaves beneath unseen paws. The faint murmur of the brook threading its way through the moss-laden earth. It was all so familiar, so unchanging.

This was home.

Nothing else could soothe his frayed nerves or restless spirit the way the wilds could. The forest demanded nothing of him, offered no judgment. Here, he could simply be.

But peace like this is fleeting.

Killing in the army had been simple. A duty. A task. Perhaps even an honor. The weight of his rifle, the orders barked in his ear, the certainty that his actions served something greater—all of it had given him purpose. And if serving his country had been fulfilling, serving the cult... well, that was something else entirely.

He’d tried to stay away. God knows he’d tried.

Глупец.

He should have known better. Duty was a chain, and his father had always known how to yank it.

His father was aging. He was the Moon Son.

It had been inevitable, then, that the summons would come. And when it did, Stefan had answered without hesitation. He had returned to the cult, to the oppressive weight of its traditions, to take his place as the heir—the next Moon Father.

He would be groomed for it, molded into the perfect successor to carry on the legacy of sacrifices. Of manipulation. Of oppression wrapped in flowers, solitude, and whispered promises of tradition.

Not that he agreed with all of it. His father’s methods had always left a bitter taste in his mouth—twisted and ruthless, like poisoned honey.

Несъедобно.

There was nothing palatable about it.

And among all those vile practices, the Summer Hunt stood as the worst.

The rifle in his hands was slick with blood—warm, sticky, and cooling far too quickly. He knew the feeling too well. The blood of enemies. The blood of game. And now, the blood of his own brothers.

All for the prize.

He’d warned her. Over and over, in letters that grew more desperate with every passing month.

Stay away. Don’t come back. This place will devour you.

But she hadn’t listened.

His father had been explicit: you stay.

Young, fertile, and perfect in every way for the cult’s purposes. The shrinking numbers of new recruits, the aging population—none of it mattered to the Moon Father, so long as women like her could be bound to their ways.

And Stefan?

He had two choices.

Participate in the Hunt and catch her himself. Or let another man do it.

So he chose the lesser evil—or at least that’s what he told himself. It sounded noble in his head, but as the shot rang out, striking her in the thigh, the justification felt like ashes on his tongue.

She stumbled, fell, and he was on them in moments, his breath a harsh rasp against the stillness of the forest.

"You knew what this place was—what it would demand of you—and yet, here you are," he snarled, his voice low, rough, and vibrating with barely restrained fury. His hands gripped her ankle, dragging them back toward him as they scrambled against the dirt.

"Did you think you could waltz in for a holiday? Make small talk over the fire and then leave untouched?" He leaned closer, his words biting. "This isn’t a vacation, Милая. It’s a trap, and you walked straight into it."

His grip tightened, his fingers stained crimson with blood.

"This place will eat you alive. If I don’t..." His voice cracked, just slightly, betraying the storm beneath the anger. "If I don’t do what needs to be done, someone else will. Someone far less patient. You made a mistake coming back here, and I can’t fix it for you."

He paused, the fury giving way to something rawer, darker. Resignation. Grief. Love, twisted into something unrecognizable.

"I’ve spent my whole life trying to protect the people I care about, and yet here you are, walking back into the lion’s den like none of that matters. Do you even see what it does to me? How hard it is to let you go?"

His jaw tightened, his knuckles white as he dragged her closer.

"And now I have to hunt you."