Most definitely not, but she nodded her head. “We were dancing,” she whispered. “You turned into Clyde . . . and he said such horrible things.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched. “Want me to go back and remove his tongue?”
“Kind of.” The very thought dissolved the tension in her body. “Does that make me a terrible person?”
“There’s nothing you could do that would make me think that.”
He pushed off the ground, rising to his feet.
He meant it.He would really go back to exact her revenge if she asked him to.
Luna reached for him, grabbing his wrist to pull him back. “Don’t be silly.”
He hesitated—his fingers flexing—then slowly, cautiously, he interlocked them with hers.
She exhaled, her voice barely more than a breath. “Please.”
A quiet war played across his face in the dim light; his lips parted like he wanted to say something, but instead, he gave in. His arm ghosted around her shoulders, pausing for a breath before pulling her close. Even then, he held her like glass, as if unsure of how he should comfort her.
Clutching his arm, she held it to her chest, grounding herself in his warmth.
With a quiet sigh, he adjusted, gently guiding her body to rest against his. She fit into him like she’d always belonged there, like a key clicking into place.
His breath stirred her hair. “It’s okay to be scared. Just know you don’t have to be.”
She believed him more than she had ever believed anything in her life. With him, she felt safe—probably because he was more dangerous than anything she feared.
Her hand found his chest, putting her palm over his heart. “Why . . .” The question caught, too fragile to finish. She swallowed and tried again, softer this time. “Why help me?”
He gave her a gentle squeeze, and in that quiet gesture, she was reminded of what he’d said—he didn’t want to be her hero. But how could he not be? He had saved her . . . and was still trying to help her even now.
She hated how much she needed that, needed him. Even without her illness, she still felt so vulnerable.
Before sleep took her, she thought she heard him quietly speak, but she couldn’t be sure she hadn’t imagined it: “I’ve been asking myself the same thing. I don’t think I really had a choice, though.”
Chapter 23
Hazelwood Village
Another day of riding passed, and it felt like they’d been travelling for months when they finally arrived at a village unlike any Luna had ever seen or imagined. Buildings and paths had been constructed around thick blue-barked trees, encompassing them in a way that made Hazelwood seem like it was a part of the forest itself.
There were no stones leading from each dwelling to another, only a dirt trail showing where people often walked. Luna followed Damien as he led their horses to what looked like stables. It could barely be described as a proper building, with four crooked tree posts that had notches in them to hold up a patchy roof. Rather than pony walls, wooden fences made from logs separated each horse into its own stall.
“I don’t like this,” Damien said, walking past the empty stables with the two horses still in tow. “It’s too quiet.”
Luna looked about, considering the dimming light from the nearly-set sun. “Maybe this place has an early bedtime?”
“Mmm,” Damien mused, “I—” Whatever he saw as he stepped from behind a thick trunk stopped him dead in his tracks. In a blink, he transformed; shadow magic swarmed her, forming a shield. Only this time, the shadows were much darker . . . Almost like he’d drawn a curtain around her, and to see out, she had to angle her head.
His magic continued to pool around him, stretching out to cover the ground like a blanket.What’s going on?She had been about to ask Damien, but a subtle shake of his equine head stopped her.
In a voice so quiet, she could barely hear, he warned, “Not a word.”
“Hello, Damien.” A sinister voice rang out before a rather lanky-looking white unicorn with three horns trailing down his forehead appeared. His snow-white features made him look angelic, but with the way Damien visibly stiffened, Luna knew there was nothing holy about him. “I didn’t expect to see you lurking about these parts. Did you decide to give up on your mission and have some fun instead?”
“No, Harlow. I have better things to do than rampage through villages like a bunch of rabid dogs.”
Luna stiffened; his chuckle sent a shiver down her spine. There was a reason there were no villagers insight . . . and it wasn’t because of an early bedtime. Her throat bobbed.
