She was falling for him; it made her uneasy. Could she trust her instincts? The last time she had been in love, things hadn’t gone well. Clyde had played with her heart . . . all so he could have a unicorn’s power in his back pocket, and to climb in status.
Perhaps his betrayal warped her perception of things now. It was hard for her to believe someone could be this generous—this kind—without an ulterior motive.
Yet, here Damien was. He asked nothing of her and promised her safety all the same. Comfort. Knowledge. Freedom. Everything and anything she could ask for, he was ready to deliver.
They continued moving through the glacier-crushed lands, and by the time they reached the river winding towards Kalt Ravine, the sun had started to sink in the sky. They stopped by the riverside, giving themselves and the horses a much-needed break.
Cupping her hands, Luna drank from the river; the cold water cut through her exhaustion as it slid down her throat.
Damien stood in bushes taller than a horse’s head, his hands rummaging through their leaves for deep blue-violet berries. He picked one, tossed it up in the air and caught it in his mouth. When he caught her looking, he grinned. “Saskatoon berries grow wild in these parts. The darker the colour, the sweeter they are.”
“Can I try?” Luna asked.
Damien grabbed another berry off of the bush and said, “Open up.”
Luna parted her lips, and he tossed the berry. It soared through the air, but she reflexively flinched away as the berry came down near her face. “Let me try again,” she practically ordered, and after a half-dozen failed attempts, she demanded that he just pass her some.
Sweetness exploded on her tongue. She quickly grabbed more, stuffing her face full. This was a true treat after days of eating only stale bread, cheese, and dried meat.
“That smile,” Damien whispered, his voice low. “I don’t think you know what you do to me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What do I do?”
His lips pressed together, and he shook his head; yet another question he wouldn’t answer. He did that a lot—remained silent or distracted her by asking a question of his own. She was about to call him out on thisbehaviour when he suddenly scooped her up into his arms and dashed further into the bushes.
“Wha—”
He placed a finger to her lips, beckoning her to be quiet.
She gave a slight nod, holding her breath as she strained to hear what had made him so tense. Someone was singing; soldiers wouldn’t do that. She slipped from Damien’s grip, peering through the leaves.
A small group trudged along the riverbank: two men, a woman, and several children, all sunburnt and threadbare.
Luna stepped out and gave the group a small wave. Damien followed, but he didn’t replicate her friendly gesture.
The wind tugged at the long black hair of a man who looked up, his gaunt face splitting into a grin. “You headed to Kalt Ravine too?”
Damien frowned deeply, and after a long pause, he replied, “We are.” His voice was as cold as the icy river water they had bathed in.
“Guess we are heading in the same direction then,” he answered cheerily, as if Damien and Luna were his long-time best friends. “I’m Sael.” He held out a hand, reaching to shake Damien’s.
Damien folded his arms across his chest.
Undeterred, he dropped his hand and nodded towards the woman. “This is my wife, Ly. The kids running around are ours . . .” His gaze slid to his male companion as he added, “But, the baby is his, Taemin.”
Ly gave a tight smile, gently rocking the sleeping infant strapped to her chest. Despite the rags she wore, she was utterly gorgeous with her ebony hair braided tightly against her head.
Taemin stood behind her, with tired brown eyes; his charcoal hair was cropped short and streaked with silver. He was thin—too thin.
Sael continued, “If you have anything to spare . . .” He gestured to the children clinging to Ly, eyes hollow with hunger. “It’s been days since they’ve had a proper meal.”
Luna didn’t have to look at Damien to know exactly how unmoved he was from their misfortune. She turned, reaching for the pack on Barley’s back, but Damien blocked her with his arm.
“Don’t. Humans can’t be trusted, no matter how small.”
She huffed and pushed past him. Whatever his history was with humans, it was clearly affecting him now and in the worst way possible. These people didn’t seem like much of a threat; they were barely surviving.
“Please, Lu—”
