Luna’s face contorted with confusion. “What does that mean?”
“You’ll see,” Marion replied with a sing-song tone, patting Luna’s shoulder. “I best go find Gregory now before he decides to call it a night and leave me hanging . . . again.” With that, Marion quickly left, spinning on her heel and heading back towards the dance floor.
Luna blinked hard. Her mind raced to catch up with all that had been said. Clearly, she was in the dark about something. That was more than a little unsettling. She turned to Damien, whose eyes were narrowed on her, studying her. “Do you care to explain what that was all about,” she asked.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out several coins and placed them on the counter for the bartender. “I believe she’s trying to sleep with Gregory.”
Luna smacked his arm. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
He looked down at the spot she had touched. Fear pulsed through Luna as she realized what she had just done. “I hit you.” She’d just hit a unicorn. Did she have a death wish? She must. That, or she was just plain stupid. The effects of alcohol could only be blamed so much. The contents in her stomach curdled. “I didn’t, um . . . I—”
“It’s funny,” he mused. “Others would be begging for their lives right now. And regardless of their pleas, they would’ve found themselves in a rather dire situation.” He held her gaze, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly. “But you,little swan, have nothing to fear from me. The casualness in which you behave is refreshing.”
Was that a compliment? His words sparked something in her traitorous heart, and her cheeks warmed. Before her eyes could give away her thoughts, she glanced down at the coins he had dropped on the counter only realizing now that someone had to pay for the food she’d eaten.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’m not usually this dependent on anyone, I swear. I can take care of myself.”
“Are you feeling better?”
She rose from the table, testing her legs. Her steps were steadier, but an overwhelming sense of discomfort and unease began to settle over her, making her feel even worse than she did before. “I do, but—”
“Good,” he said as he looked towards the windows where the light was fading. “It’s getting late. Do you have a place to stay for the night?”
“I plan to go home?”
“You’re going back?”
What had he expected? Of course, she was going home. That’s where she lived. “Why do you sound surprised?” Her stomach rolled, her insides groaning. Had the food been spoiled?
“That you’re returning to your captivity? Mmm . . .” he mused as if he was actually trying to figure something out. “It’s hard to narrow down the reasons. Perhaps because a sane person would take their freedom and run?”
Her mouth flattened. “I’mnota captive.”
He only snorted—clearly, still not believing her—but he let it go. “If you must go back, allow me to escort you. It would ease my mind to at leastsee you got there safely.”
Leaving in the company of a unicorn probably wasn’t the best idea, but neither was walking alone. Surely, if he meant her harm, he would have acted by now. The nauseous feeling in her belly amplified. Not wanting to argue, because she doubted he would have let her go alone anyway, she gave him a small nod. “You can if you wish.”
There was no direct route from the tavern to the palace roads, so Damien led Luna through a series of narrow alleys steeped in darkness from the towering brick buildings lining the streets. There were no lanterns, the only light guiding them was the light from the stars that littered the sky above and the sun’s rays peeking over the horizon.
Luna walked slowly, hugging her arms around her stomach. Sweat formed on her brow, her insides felt like liquid and every step exhausted her.
Damien kept pace beside her, his gaze flicking to her each time her steps faltered.
Once, when she paused to steady herself against a wall, he murmured, “You don’t have to go back. I can take you somewhere else.”
“Not an option.” Her family would notice if she wasn’t there tomorrow, and as fun as today had been, it couldn’t be her life. She leaned her cheek against the cool brick, allowing it to soothe her head. If she got through tonight, she would swear off alcohol forever. She pressed her hand to her chest, willing her lungs to expand so that she could take a full breath. “But thank you for all you have done.” Her voice was breathy, barely a whisper. Each word was a struggle to get out. “If you weren’t there when I was bleeding, who knows what would’ve happened.”
Maybe King Hendrix was right to implement all of the restrictions he had in place for her, they surely had been keeping her safe.
Swallowing, she forced the bile rising in her throat down.
His mouth tightened, but he didn’t press.
She pushed away from the wall, forcing herself onward—then froze. A horrible tingling sensation pierced the tips of her fingers as she reached for her one constant comfort in life, only to find it gone. Like a capsizedboat sinking to the bottom of the ocean floor, she dropped to the ground. Disbelief swarmed her mind. How could something so precious to her suddenly be gone? Her hands flew over her body and the ground, searching for the chain or the pendant.
“What’s wrong?”
“My necklace . . .” Her eyes scanned the ground behind them. “I lost it.” Had it fallen off while they were walking? Or maybe when she had been dancing?
