Shadow Moon Series Book 4

Agony.

It was a vice-like grip on his body as he navigated through the dense undergrowth. From a distance, this world had seemed enchanting, but being here in the flesh, it was a whole different story.

Deimos wrestled with the branches obstructing his path, their thorns slicing into his tender skin. A jolt of pain surged up his arm, and he released the branch, revealing a dark gash in his palm.

The red liquid pooled next to the wound, a stark contrast against his pale skin. He watched it for a moment before a wave of warmth washed over the injury.

“Damn it,” he growled, his blood seeping into the earth.

He knew from observing humans that their bodies were fragile, and healing took time. Cursing himself for volunteering for this, Deimos ripped a piece of his shirt and wrapped it around his hand.

He clenched his fist, biting back a sharp sting of pain. Satisfied with his makeshift bandage, he continued on, being extra cautious with what he touched.

As he trudged through the forest, Deimos found himself reflecting on when his troubles had started. Back to the day the gods had agreed to his plan.

The day he had first set foot on this physical plane with a mission. A mission he had once longed for, but now regretted.

Stepping into the dimly lit chamber, Deimos paused at the entrance, observing the three hooded figures hunched over a basin, their shadows dancing in the light.

The gods seemed frozen in place, just as they had been during their last encounter.

He cleared his throat to get their attention, then stepped fully into the room, the stone wall closing behind him.

The three figures remained still, their focus fixed on the world unfolding before them.

“You summoned me,” Deimos said softly, wary of making any sudden noises.

“Finally, we can begin,” Bellon’s deep, alluring voice echoed.

The pool’s light cast a silhouette as he turned slightly to face Deimos, the other two gods merely turning their heads in his direction.

“Thank you for coming so promptly,” Jupiter said.

“After careful observation, we have identified a female who we believe could be the one we’ve been searching for.”

Deimos felt a weight lift off his shoulders at Jupiter’s words. He was glad they saw what he saw in Nix.

She was a remarkable being and would make an excellent first witch.

“I’m relieved to hear that,” Deimos replied.

“But there are rules,” Bellon interjected, his voice laced with a hint of triumph.

“Firstly, you must not reveal your true identity to anyone but Nix. And even she might not believe you. Being in human form on the physical plane means you will have no divine powers. You wanted to know what it feels like to be human. Well, now you will.”

“Secondly,” Neptune continued, “Once you leave, you can only return once. And for whatever reason that might be, you won’t be able to go back.”

“And lastly, be wary of the human body. You will experience sensations beyond your imagination and feelings that will overwhelm you, no matter how strong you think you are. The final rule is no love. You may not, and cannot fall in love, as that is the one emotion denied to us,” Jupiter concluded.

Deimos listened intently to their rules, agreeing to most of them, except for the last. He had always been curious about love.

He understood anger, sadness, and envy, but love was a mystery. It came in different forms: love for family, love for friends, and romantic love.

Sometimes, he wondered if he was capable of love. But whenever he watched Nix, he felt something stir within him.

It was confusing, but he always pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

“I agree,” Deimos declared, choosing to keep his reservations to himself.

“Then be on your way,” Bellon said, turning his back on Deimos.

“Remember, we are always watching.”

Deimos exited the room with a slight bow as the wall shifted open, closing tightly behind him.

A wave of excitement washed over him at the thought of finally meeting Nix in person.

The sound of rushing water in the distance snapped Deimos out of his reverie as he continued through the forest.

His throat felt parched as he neared the water, his body craving hydration. He dropped to his knees by the pool, cupping water to gulp down.

The cool liquid soothed his dry throat, and he closed his eyes, savoring the sensation. Despite his discomfort, something as simple as drinking water felt incredible.

With a full stomach and a satchel filled with water, Deimos stood up, scanning the area. He knew where to go.

The vial in his bag weighed heavily against his shoulder, its soft hum acting as a beacon for his target.

Securing the bag tightly against his body, Deimos set off, following the stream downhill.

He was close to the village he was seeking and the woman who would change the world.

As the sun began to set, the forest was bathed in a red glow, giving it a magical aura.

Deimos reached the end of the stream, which gathered into a smaller pool.

A single trail led out from the tree-covered pool. He followed the path into another wooded area, this one more open with fewer trees and thorns.

A dull ache gnawed at his legs as he journeyed along the route.

With the sun completely gone and only the soft glow of the moon to light the way, Deimos felt a wave of frustration.

His body was weak, and his stomach was empty. After a day’s travel on foot, he realized this mission might be more challenging than he had anticipated.

Exhausted, he slumped to the ground, cradling his head in his hands.

Bellon’s words echoed in his mind, making the god seem right. Deimos doubted his ability to complete this mission.

Just reaching Nix was proving to be a daunting task.

With a sigh, Deimos closed his eyes, yearning for rest. But her face appeared in the darkness.

A face he had studied for longer than he cared to admit. A face he knew every detail of.

A face with a smile that could melt the coldest hearts. Nix was extraordinary, more than she might realize, and Deimos was her teacher—if he ever reached her.

A sudden wave of urgency washed over him as he thought of her.

The mere proximity to her, the anticipation of what was to come, it was enough to rekindle the energy in his legs.

With a swift movement, Deimos reached into the bag, his fingers curling around the cool glass vial.

The magic within it seemed to pulse against his skin, guiding him toward her with an unspoken promise.

He let the magic lead him, each step bringing him closer to her.