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The creatures causing the chaos are werewolves. Ten in total and I can smell the FHB flowing through them. Wolves and FHB are a bad combination. It addles their brains and enhances the animal part of them.

I take off my jacket and hand it to Renfield, because it’s Italian and I’m fond of it, then I walk into the field.

The first wolf doesn’t hear me coming. I take its head off with one hand, and I’m already moving before the body falls to the ground.

I haven’t unleashed this part of myself since the night I saved Luna from Nix’s henchmen in the bookshop.

It feels good.

It feels too good.

As I pull out the guts of the second and third wolves that go for me, I realise Luna will have to come to terms with this if she’s going to truly love me.

When I catch the fourth by its throat and bite into it, I wonder whether she already has; she saw the video footage of what I did to Steven. She saw me in the bookshop, and she still wants me.

But she doesn’t know the worst of it yet; she doesn’t know all of it.

The remaining six are easier to kill. They’re running away from me instead of toward me, and Renfield’s men have them closed in. When I’m done, I’m dripping in blood and glad I made the decision to take off my jacket.

I lick my lower lip, even though wolves taste as bitter as hell, and smooth back my hair.

Luna would be impressed by this. I know she would.

But then another thought occurs to me; if there is a part of her that would enjoy watching me kill these wolves, the same part that enjoyed seeing what I did to Steven, could Nix be right?

Could she be drawn to his darkness the way she’s drawn to mine?

Renfield is speaking, but I hold up my hand to make him stop because my phone is vibrating.

A voicenote from Kim. I hold the phone to my ear and press play.

“Pretty sure whatever’s going on at the campsite is a distraction. Because Luna’s ex-boyfriend just turned up at your door and he’s decidedly undead. Get back here. Now.”

“Fuck…”

“Lucien.” Renfield has seen my face. “What⁠—”

“Deal with this,” I roar at him, gesturing to the field, already running.

When I arrive at the mansion, the gates are closed. But the metal bars look like they’ve been pulled open to allow space for someone to step through them.

I jump through and move at lightning speed toward the house. When I stop in front of it, I sense Luna. But I cannot see her. All I can see is a gaping hole where my conservatory used to be.

I scan the wreckage. The air smells of darkness; a scent you only recognise if you’ve seen enough terrible things to know that evil leaves behind a stench that cloys in the back of your throat and makes you want to scrub your skin clean of it.

“Luna?” As I whisper her name, I see movement up ahead.

She’s alone. Scrambling to keep her footing on top of the wreckage as she grabs at it with bare hands.

Around her the shadows are pulsing.

“Kim!” she yells, tossing aside a large piece of metal from the framework of the conservatory. “Kim!”

“Luna.”

She doesn’t hear me. I catch her wrists, and she rounds on me with a snarl. As her eyes meet mine, I realise they’re completely black.

“He’s under there.” She’s shaking so hard I can feel it in my own bones. “Kim’s under there but they won’t work, Lucien, I keep telling them and they won’t listen. The shadows. They won’t⁠—”