Mr. Dreamy.She had called him that back at the tavern; that night seemed like ages ago, the memory someone else’s.
She clucked her tongue to the top of her mouth, a faint smile on her lips. “I suppose not.”
Time ticked by, and the skies above darkened. Luna hadn’t slept at all the previous night with everything that had happened, and her eyes were having trouble staying open. “I’m tired,” she finally admitted, shifting her weight in the saddle, acutely aware that she probably wouldn’t be able to walk once she got off the horse.
“I’ll find us a spot to camp for the night soon.”
Despite what he said, they continued travelling. The stars guided them towards their destination until it became too dark to carry on. With Barley still in motion, Damien swung his leg over the saddle and swiftly dismounted. He took the reins in one hand and gave Barley a pat on his neck. “We’ll rest here.”
Luna nodded and tried to move her legs, but they refused to cooperate. A frustrated sigh slipped from her lips. Why did she always end up as a damsel in distress around Damien? It needed to stop. If she was going to live the normal life she’d always dreamed about, she needed to become more independent, more capable.
She could do this. Getting off a horse couldn’t be too hard, could it? Sure, she sat pretty high up and had never dismounted before, but jumping was easy. She could do that.
Trying again to imitate his dismount, she swung her leg—which felt more like dead weight than muscle—over Pickles’s back. Turns out jumping was hard, but falling? Falling was rather easy.
Her boots hit the ground first, but the impact sent a jolt up her legs. For a split second, she thought she had it . . . until her knees buckled, and she collapsed unceremoniously onto her bum. A sharp sting shot through her as she hit the dirt, and she sucked in a hiss, exhaling hard in an attempt to force the pain out.
Damien looked down at her, a half-amused, half-worried smile on his lips; his hand was held out for her to take. “You okay?”
Admitting defeat, she accepted his assistance. “Just not used to riding.” On cue, her legs wobbled, knees buckling again, and she fell into him. He stood sturdy, as if he were a tree rooted into the ground, his arms around her torso, steadying her against him.
A few strands of hair had fallen in front of her face, and he brushed them back, tucking them behind her ear. Such a simple gesture that shouldn’t have carried any deeper meaning to it, yet her heart fluttered in her chest. Why was everything he did so alluring?
She stared up at him, her eyes wandering the forest hidden in his irises, noting the small flecks of amber and brown hidden within.
He shook his head, releasing a long, breathy sigh as his arms fell to his sides.
The spot where he’d been holding her went cold, the absence of his touch stark against her skin. A foolish part of her wanted to feign a fall just to feel his arms around her again.
“You’ve got to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” Her forehead creased.
He fiddled with Barley’s saddle, adjusting a strap that didn’t need adjusting. “Like I’m some knight in shining armour.” His voice was barely audible, as if he were confessing a sin.
She jerked her chin back, like he’d slapped her across the face. “It’s hard not to.”
“You should try.” His hands stilled on the saddle. “I’ve had enough of that look to last a lifetime.”
Luna frowned. “I don’t understand.”
He gave the strap a final tug, freeing the saddle and turning away to place it by a fallen tree. “Forget it.”
Her brows knitted together, but she said nothing, watching as he freed Barley from the bridle.
“I don’t want to mislead you,” he finally said, moving to Pickles and undoing the buckles of her tack. “After you transformed and knew what you were, I should never have let you out of my sight.” His voice was quieter now, each word measured. “There’s a reason why I came to that little human kingdom. And when you find out why, I don’t think you’ll be pleased.” He glanced at her as he carried Pickles’s riding equipment and set it by Barley’s. “I thought I could do what I came here to do and protect you at the same time—but I failed, and I’d rather you not put me on a pedestal I don’t deserve.”
Luna remained still, looking a little dumbfounded as she processed his words; she didn’t know if she had the ability to treat him indifferently.
Damien passed her bread and cheese from Barley’s pack, which she quickly began to eat and tear into. Aching hunger was new to her, and she hated it. This meal would tide her over, but it hardly compared to the meals back home.Not that it’s home anymore.Never again would she have her mother’s cooking—the thought turned the food bland, and she struggled to choke the rest down.
She looked towards Damien, only to find him by the water’s edge, his back to her—shirtless.
Biting her lip, her gaze swept over the broad expanse of his shoulders, down the lean planes of his back. Moonlight carved deep shadows across his muscles, highlighting every ridge and hollow. Scars wove across historso: Some were silvery and faded, others dark and fresh, like he’d fought a hundred battles—maybe he had.
A low grunt startled her and heat flooded her face as she realized he’d been talking. More than a little flustered, she scrambled for words, but they caught in her throat, coming out as an incoherent mumble.
His lips curled in a slow and knowing smile. “I’m gonna wash up,” he repeated, “to get rid of the remaining powder. You should do the same. This stuff is a dead giveaway that we’re unicorns.”
