Gregory was in mid-story, recounting his escape, and Luna welcomed the distraction. It gave her mind something solid to hold onto, pulling her thoughts away from the camp and everything that had happened there.
After they had separated outside Grythorn, he’d led the guards far south before losing them. He ditched the gown in some nameless village, then went north to Kalt Ravine. “I couldn’t believe how many guards were out looking for you two,” Gregory said, with a small whinny. “The skies must have blessed me since none of them recognized me without that awful dress.”
“And now we know the perfect disguise for you if a situation ever calls for it,” Damien said with a snort.
Gregory swished his tail, prancing ahead with his nose high. “Sign me up for another ball gown diversion any day,” he said, but the joke stumbled a little at the end. He glanced back, as if realizing it might’ve landed wrong. “You know . . . anything’s better than walking through this wilderness.”
“It wasn’t that bad . . .” Damien looked over his shoulder at Luna, his eyes soft. “I had some pretty nice company with me.”
She dropped her head, letting her muzzle brush against the stalks of grass. How could they laugh and tease after everything? Just existing took everything she had. How she wished she could go back to the last night they’d shared before everything shattered.
Undisturbed by her silence, Gregory rambled on, oblivious. He marvelled at how every village he passed already had guards searching for her. Damien chimed in, recounting how a baby’s cry had distracted the guards long enough to ease their suspicions about Luna’s identity. The memory tightened Luna’s chest like a closing fist.
“We weren’t that lucky,” she said hollowly. “Taemin betrayed us. That’s how the king’s men found me.”
Damien gave no sign he’d heard her. He simply kept walking, his back rigid, his face hidden. Not a word. The silence between them was heavier than any accusation. Yet Luna felt the words as surely as if he’d spoken them:I told you humans couldn’t be trusted.If only she had listened. Maybe she would’ve escaped him and the king alike. Maybe none of this would have happened.
But there was no point in chasing what-ifs.
Better to just keep walking. One step at a time, until she figured out what came next.
Sensing the tension but unsure how to fix it, Gregory dove into another story. He talked about winning the horses in a poker game—bridles, saddles, and all—and when that ran dry, he spoke of the weather, the trees, anything to fill the silence.
Damien slowed his steps, matching Luna’s pace, brushing lightly against her side. She stiffened, her muscles locking so tightly it hurt. Instinct screamed through her veins—not again, not again, not again—and she jerked away, moving so sharply she nearly stumbled.
And then, she froze.
The world narrowed to the feeling of her skin—too tight, too raw—straining against the fear that clawed at her chest. Her hooves planted themselves uselessly in the dirt. She didn’t dare move. She didn’t dare breathe. Her heart battered itself against her ribs, but the rest of her stayed locked, like a trapped prisoner.
She knew it was Damien—Damien—and not the humans who had carved agony into her bones—but her body didn’t care.
Terror didn’t listen to reason. Terror was a knife pressed against her, humming with memory.
Damien must have seen it, sensed it—because something in his expression withered before he turned away, like he couldn’t bear the truth written so plainly between them.
She feared him. Feared everyone.
And if she were to dive deep within herself, she knew she blamed him for it.
He turned away quickly, but she noticed the way something inside him folded inward, wounded deeper than any blow could reach.
Shame burned through her, hollowing her out. Hot and acid-sharp, it filled her chest until she could barely breathe.
She hated herself for it.
Hated how easily she recoiled, how she stood there now, trembling like some beaten dog.
He hadn’t touched her, not really. Still, she couldn’t stop it.
Maybe she deserved it.Deserved all of it.
“Eloria isn’t far from here,” he said, the familiar mask of calm sliding into place. “You’ll be safe, unreachable to humans soon.”
Safe.
She almost laughed—almost choked on it.
There was no safety anymore.
