It was too late; the man hurled the powder . . . but not at Damien.No.He threw it at her.
This wasn’t just a few little flakes—it was a handful. As the powder landed on her face, her bare shoulders and arms, the pain was indescribable. It seared through her as if it was melting her skin and burrowing into her pores as it tried to rip her magic away.
“Bastard!” Damien snarled, lowering his head to aim his horn directly at the guard.
The guard’s eye widened and he screamed, bolting in the opposite direction before Damien had a chance to release the magic gathering at its tip.
Coward.
Luna’s legs quivered, threatening to give out, but Damien was there, catching her before she could hit the ground. His shadows gently eased her onto his back. Through laboured breaths, she managed to balance herself on top of him.
“We are gonna make a run for it. Hold on tight,” he warned.
Though exhaustion and pain overwhelmed her, Luna threaded her fingers through his mane and clamped her legs tight on his sides. He moved slowly at first, making sure she would stay on, then he picked up his pace. Soon, they were at a gallop, racing through the woods and trampling over the flowers in the western garden.
Guards trailed after them, shouting at them to stop. Blasts of powder streaked through the air, which Damien did his best to dodge, but he didn’t slow his speed until they reached the front gates, where rows of men stood waiting, canisters of powder in hand.
Damien dipped his head, lowering his horn so its tip pointed directly at them in silent warning.Move or be run through.
Powder still clung to Luna, making it difficult for her to hang on as Damien charged forward. The guards shot off their canisters as they scattered, diving out of the way to avoid being trampled. White powder flew once again, and Luna curled into herself on Damien’s back, bracing for the burn. It didn’t come. Instead, a shield of blackness formed around them, protecting them. Damien’s magic absorbed most of the blast, but it wasn’t as strong as it had been at the protection ceremony, and several flakes seeped through.
He tried to manoeuvre his body, angling himself so the flakes hit him instead of Luna. As he moved, he stumbled . . . his strength clearly waning. She lost her balance and began to slide sideways on his back. Desperate to stay on, she dug her legs into his side and clutched his mane so tightly her knuckles turned white. Was it the strain of using this much magic—or was the powder finally startingto affect him?
He turned his head and, with his nose, gave her back a little push, helping her upright before continuing forward. The guards resumed firing shot after shot of the white powder, but they were close to the gate now. A cold weight settled in her chest at the sight of the sealed passage. Damien barrelled through the crowd of guards, his breathing rough and laboured, but he didn’t slow. Was he really going to try breaking through by ramming it? Apparently, so. Luna hung on for dear life. They were so close to freedom; she wasn’t about to fall off now and be left behind.
Damien sent out his black magic one last time, searing the gate right off its hinges. In one giant leap, he jumped over the fallen iron, and they were off the palace grounds. Luna couldn’t help the smile that spread across her lips. They escaped! She would have screamed in glee had it not been for all the guards now chasing after them down the street.
Damien weaved between buildings faster than a horse ever could. The distance between them and the guards grew, and soon, their shouts faded into whispers.
As they left the city behind, the cramped streets gave way to gentle rolling hills beneath an endless blue sky. Tall grass stalks grazed the bottom of her shoes as Damien galloped effortlessly through them, his powerful strides rhythmic and steady.
Luna had spent her entire life within the confines of the palace, yearning for freedom from its strict rules and constant safety. Yet now, with that freedom within reach, she found herself torn.
She was abandoning everything familiar, and the thought was as terrifying as it was exhilarating. As the thrill of their escape quieted, Luna became keenly aware of the sway of her hips matching Damien’s graceful movements. Her attention hyperfixated on every point of contact between them: The way his powerful muscles rippled under her, his warmth radiating through her legs, seeping into her skin.
She wasn't just riding a horse; she was riding Damien, a unicorn.
Something inside her tightened, and her mind wandered traitorously to a different kind of rhythm—hidden beneath tangled sheets, not with hooves and horn, but with his human body, with his hands roaming over her.
Instinctively, she squeezed her thighs, pressing them together in a desperate attempt to smother the feeling.
As if he could read her mind, Damien slowed to a trot, glancing back at her with an unmistakable expression of amusement. “As much as I enjoy being between your legs, we’re going to grab horses,” he said. His ears flicked towards a lone figure waiting ahead with three saddled mounts.
Heat flooded Luna’s cheeks, embarrassment scorching her skin. She released her grip on his mane as if that act alone would loosen this awareness.
She needed off—now.
The instant Damien shifted to signal her dismount, Luna hurried off his back. Exhausted, her legs trembled, and she was barely able to regain her balance before a familiar voice pierced through the tension.
“Took you long enough. I was starting to worry,” Gregory said.
The heat within Luna vanished instantly, replaced by a shard of ice that stabbed through her chest.
Gregory.
What was he doing here?
The last time she had seen him, it had been moments before Marion disappeared. She didn’t trust him one bit.
