Was he trying to sweeten her up, lull her back into trusting him with that easy charm?
Raging-hot anger flowed through her like a river, but the only outward sign she allowed was the furious lash of her tail against her rump. She hadn’t expected a confession of guilt, and she couldn’t find it within herself to answer him. Despite knowing she needed to keep up the façade, she couldn’t even look at him.
Damien drew in a deep breath, shifting his weight so his hind leg rested on the tip of his hoof. “I should have told you the truth from the start. About . . .” He shook his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter now.”
She swallowed dryly, forcing down her temper and burying it, alongside everything else she couldn’t afford to feel.
He stepped closer, reaching out to nuzzle her neck.
Luna instinctively stepped back, putting space between them.
He stiffened, the movement halting in his muscles, and for a heartbeat, pain flickered across his face before he forced it away, his body going rigid with the effort.
His voice was clipped, princely manners sliding into place. “There’s a process we’ll have to go through to enter the realm . . .”
Luna pawed at the ground impatiently. “I said I was ready.”
Damien dipped his head in acknowledgment but didn’t move.
Instead, something in his posture eased slightly; the rigid line of his shoulders loosened. When he spoke again, his voice was low, a soothing murmur, “Guard your light. Don’t let their wrongdoings push you into darkness. They win if you give them that.”
Words of wisdom—ones she wasn’t ready to hear.
“I can’t talk about it,” she hissed, killing the conversation.
Damien didn’t argue. Just drew in a slow breath, turned, and guided her towards the stone, into Eloria.
Chapter 34
Eloria
As they crossed the barrier’s threshold together, magic pressed upon Luna’s body like a crushing weight. She struggled to move, to even blink. It was like drowning without water, like she’d slipped beneath some dark current, forced to hold her breath or be pulled under.
All sense of time and direction dissolved. Though her body moved alongside Damien, she felt suspended. Caught between two realms, belonging to neither. Finally, they finished passing through, and the sensation lifted.
Magic still lingered in the air, but it clung lightly now, no longer suffocating. It stung her nose, and her nostrils twitched, a low snort slipping free.
“Breathe slowly.” Damien’s voice was raw, barely a whisper, as if a single wrong word might shatter her. He stood with his legs locked straight, his neck stretched towards her, the tension in him plain—as if he were holding himself back from reaching out. “It takes a moment to get used to.”
She tried, pulling in a deep breath. In. Out. Again. Until the tightness in her chest eased.
The other side of the barrier opened to a strange room: mirrored walls, a garden of flowers, and a path that led to a single empty desk. No doors. No exits.
But she didn’t panic. Unnerving calmness wrapped around her, thick with magic; she didn’t fight it, didn’t have the strength to try.
She stepped towards one of the mirrors.
A white unicorn gazed back at her. A horn spiralled elegantly from her forehead, her white coat pristine. She was beautiful—or would have been, if not for her deformed hooves, roughly chopped mane, and the scar marringher leg where an arrow had once pierced her. But it was her eyes—deep, sorrowful pools of blue—that caught Luna’s breath.
She turned away sharply, unwilling to face herself.
Through the barrier hole, grass swayed. For a moment, she almost considered running back, if only to escape her reflection.
A man appeared from thin air, stepping into the room.
He looked . . . Well, he looked exactly like someone from this world might look. Large glasses perched upon his nose, brown hair tipped with silver curls, and white deer antlers crowned his head. His ears were long and furry; a brown tail flicked behind him. Without making eye contact, he sat behind the desk. A book—massive, wider than Luna was tall—materialized before him.
He placed a hand over it.
