“What happened?” Luna asked gently.
“I found him trapped in a collapsed watchtower. His leg was crushed under rubble. We were pinned down for two days. No food. No sleep. Just the sound of boots crunching outside and crows overhead.”
He flexed his fingers as if he could still feel the bite of the stone.
“I carried him back when the patrol finally passed. Thought I’d saved his life. But a week later, I walked into an ambush—arrow to the side. Couldn’t move. Gregory dragged me out under fire. Said we were even after that, but he’s been by my side ever since.”
“And Harlow and Knox?”
Damien released a slow, heavy breath, eyes drifting towards the door—like he heard something she hadn’t. “You should go to sleep. Morning will come before you want it to.”
With a huff, she pouted, but she did as she was told and shimmed down until she was lying flat on her back.
Seconds later, she felt his hand on her foot. His thumb pressed gently into her sole, calm, steady pressure; a whimper escaped her lips.
He said nothing. And neither did she—worried words would ruin whatever this was.
But nothing else happened. At least, not what she was hoping for.
He simply slid into bed and pulled her close, his arm draped loosely around her waist. For a moment, she let herself relax into it.
But something felt off.
He held her like he always did—but he wasn’t with her, not fully. His breathing was too even. His body, too still. Like he was waiting.
Not for her, but for the moment she let go.
Barely audible, Damien whispered, “If you want to keep your tongue, I suggest you quit using it.”
What the—
Luna’s eyes snapped open. Pale morning light slipped through the cracks in the curtains, soft but certain. The space beside her was empty. Frowning, she sat up and silently scanned the room. There was no sign of Damien, but the door was slightly ajar.
A male’s voice echoed through the opening. “Just cause you don’t like what I am saying doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
Sounded like Gregory.
“We’ll leave in a few hours,” Damien answered. “She needs herrest.”
“Since when are you so merciful,” Gregory retorted, his voice hard. “You realize the Darkened One won’t be if the exchange doesn’t happen soon.”
She flinched.What were they talking about?
Damien’s cold voice interrupted her thoughts. “You need not mention—”
The door clicked shut. Luna’s heart hammered, her blood roaring in her ears.
Did they work for the Darkened One? At the very least, they were somehow involved with him. “Exchange,” she whispered. The word was sour on her tongue, like rotten berries. What were they exchanging? The answer hit her so hard she almost flew off the bed.
He was going to exchangeher.
“That explains everything.” He’d played her like a fool . . . like Clyde had. She forced back a sob; he pretended to have her best interests at heart, but in reality, he was a self-serving prick.
He had lied to her—of course, he had. Everyone she’d ever known was a liar. Why would he be any different?
Pushing the blankets off, she rose to her feet, knees trembling. A heavy lump was lodged in her throat, it burned and ached at the same time.
She wished she could shed her skin and erase the memory of him: His touch. His warmth. Of the false sense of safety he’d lured her into it.
