Everything was going according to plan: Nina had been retrieved for the Darkened One, Arleen was safe, and soon his family would be whole again. They would even meet his swan.
He should have felt relieved. Victorious, even.
Yet as Damien strode into the demonic temple, unease writhed in his gut, tightening with every step he took.
Something inside him was screaming, drowning out every rational thought except one.
Luna.
He needed to see her. Once he set his eyes on her, everything would feel right in the world again . . . it always did around her.
She had this holy goodness about her, a kindness that could not be dulled by lies, betrayal, or even brutality. It made the darkness within him settle. Despite all she’d been through, she still assumed the best of people. How he wished he could see the world the way she did, but a life raised in the Shadow Kingdom had left him without that ability.
Still, she made him want to try . . . made him want things he had no right to.
Skies above, when had he become such a sentimental fool?
In Grythorn, he’d told himself that saving Luna was a strategy. He had sensed her power, her light, from the first moment they met, and something in him had been drawn to her ever since, helpless as a moth to flame.
When the magical tracker from the Darkened One had landed him in front of Luna instead of Nina, Damien had figured it was a coincidence—a mistake in the spellwork.
Then he’d seen Luna . . . felt her power, hidden deep within her, calling out to him. Like a bond snapping into place.
After that, he told himself his determination to protect her, to guide her, to earn her trust, had nothing to do with the pull he felt towards her, or the way his chest felt lighter around her.
He’d been lying, though.
Nina’s screams echoed through the temple, ringing in his mind. He cringed. She was so distraught, far more than Damien ever imagined she would be.
But he tried to put his mind at ease; the Darkened One had given his word that Nina would come to no harm as long as she broke the curse she had put on him, and Damien was inclined to believe him. After all, if the Darkened One truly wanted to harm her, wouldn’t he have killed her rather than exiling her all those years ago?
Surely she was smart enough to undo the curse and be on her way, right?
He sighed and resigned himself to his fate. After he saw Luna, he’d hop in that carriage with Nina and make sure everything went over smoothly, if only for Luna’s sake.
The hinges creaked as he pushed open the door leading to the common room.
Arleen sat at the table with Marion, fingers wrapped around a mug of steaming tea. She looked . . . calm. Perhaps a little tired, but otherwise fine. It surprised him. He would’ve thought that being a prisoner of the Darkened One, the terror of being forced to marry such a wicked being, would’ve left its mark on her.
Yet here she was, her equine-like ears forward as she quietly listened to Marion, her eyes still holding that softness that had always made her seem untouchable by anything ugly.
It did nothing to ease the knot forming in Damien’s chest.
It was no wonder the Darkened One had picked her as a bride. Monsters like him were drawn to innocent, kind things for the sole purpose of seeing them ruined. And Arleen was pure—all bright laughter and reckless hope, wandering too close to danger without ever seeing it. When their father announced their engagement, Damien knew he had to save her; she would never survive a man like the Darkened One.
Corey stood at the counter, flour dusting her arms and smeared across her cheek as she kneaded dough in quick, efficient motions.
It all looked so normal . . .
Arleen’s eyes found his. “They’re gone now?” Her smile wobbled, then steadied. But he didn’t have time to analyze that.
“Um—no.” His gaze swept the room again. “Where’s Luna?”
Marion answered, “I think seeing Nina this morning was too much for her. She hasn’t come out of her room yet.”
“Actually,” Corey corrected, not looking up from the dough, “she left. Said she needed air or something. That was . . . a little while ago.”
The words hit him like a physical blow.
