A Hunter for Luna (Tales of Ruin #1)

1. Luna

CHAPTER ONE

LUNA

I pressed myself further into the shadow under the window seat, holding my breath and pulling my magic as tight to my skin as I could. Useless as it was, only good for unraveling other people’s spells, the feathery texture of it made me easy to find if I didn’t control it.

It was hard to concentrate on reigning in my magic, but the fear of being found made a good motivator. There would be even more pain when I was found.

Sofia, the governess hired to teach my sister to control her magic, rose from the settee she shared with my sister and walked toward my hiding place. She was plump and favored very wide skirts, though she moved as lightly as wind gliding over waves. Turning when she reached the window seat, she draped her skirts to the sides of her as she seated herself, the flowing dull green fabric providing additional concealment as the heavy footsteps approached.

Father had returned.

“Now, Rose, can you demonstrate for me again the Sun’s Fury?” Sofia’s voice, calm and kind, soothed almost as much as the rose scent she wore. Despite my father’s orders, she always found a way for me to watch the lessons, even if they didn’t really work with my magic.

I shifted so I could peek out of the tiny gap between Sofia’s skirt and the edge of the seat.

Rose cupped her hands, scrunching her face in concentration. Her long blonde curls bobbed as she nodded, her blue eyes focused on a point just above her hands. Her pale starlight magic swirled, then clumped into a warm silver-gold light a finger’s breadth above her palms. I squeezed down on my magic as it stirred, wanting to disrupt the energy she’d gathered.

My useless, useless magic.

The door crashed open, and our father strode in.

The light sputtered out, Rose’s hands trembling. Her anxiety hung in the air, almost tangible as our father walked into the room. At ten, she’d learned, as I had, not to provoke his temper.

Sadly, I did that by breathing.

Sofia rose, her skirts rustling, and I knew she inclined her head even though I couldn’t see it. “My lord. Have you come to observe Rose’s lesson?”

“No.” His voice, warm and smooth, carried an undernote of anger, and his presence filled the small schoolroom like dark smoke. “Where is Lunetta? I require her presence.”

“I have not seen her since Rose’s lesson began. As per your order, I saw her out the door before the lesson began,” Sofia replied with perfect truth.

She’d closed her eyes after shutting the door on me.

Father’s magic, sourced from the moon, coiled through the room, only to meet the slow burning fire of Sofia’s, preventing it from tunneling under the seat or entering the side of the room where she stood.

“Move, woman,” he said with soft menace.

“This is the best place for me to illustrate Rose’s lesson, my lord. I’m afraid I can’t accommodate your wish.”

He stepped closer to her, the glossy leather of his boot near my eye. My heart hammered and I fought the urge to pant.

“Do you know what I could do to you?” he asked, his voice soft as summer rain. I cringed inside. The angrier he became, the softer he spoke.

He towered over her. A large man, with strong hands, accustomed to the sword and fighting. Once he grabbed you, you couldn’t get free, no matter how hard you tried.

“Do you remember the penalty for harming one of Soulrider’s apprentices?” she asked, her tone and volume as smooth as if she were asking what sweetener he preferred in his tea.

In the pause, Rose and I hardly dared breathe. Father had raged when Canta, Rose’s mother, hired Sofia to teach Rose. She’d called in a favor owed to her family, and the Sorcerer Soulrider had sent his least favorite apprentice. But even his worst apprentice was better than any other teacher in the city.

Only Sofia knew what her contract with the Soulrider to teach Rose said, and she often invoked it in moments like this.

And Soulrider’s reputation was not merciful or sweet.

Father turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

"Continue," Sofia said after a moment, her voice unruffled. She reseated herself.

Even Father feared to anger a Sorcerer. For a man cursed with uncontrollable rage, he managed to find a modicum of control when his target might be more powerful than him.

Strange how even though I kept growing, my father’s fists never became smaller. The maids would have reported by now that I’d ruined sheets with blood when I became a woman a week ago, and I wanted to avoid the beating.

“Remember, when you call your magic, that you need to limit the power you call by focusing on the effect. Less power makes a low-level standing effect continue even if you aren’t concentrating on it. Here, come sit by me so I can see how you call the magic better.”

Sofia spoke for any remaining magic father had left to listen. She could feel the subtlest magic, and her words were a warning to me and Rose to continue with the pretense.

Rose’s skirts, pale blue silk threaded at the hem with lace with gold, fell over what open space remained.

“Let’s practice Flare now,” Sofia said.

I bit my lip. Flare would disrupt any effects Father had left in the room, and it was a basic spell. One that everyone needed to know. One that I did simply by existing.

The dancing twisting lines of Rose’s magic, soft and silky like a hair ribbon, stampeded over me like a cat running after mice. The heaviness in the room lightened.

A few minutes later, the heavy thud of the front door echoed through the corridor.

Did I dare to crawl out from my hiding spot and find another? While the pale wood of the floor was cold and hard, there was a warmth being with my sister and Sofia, the people I loved.

The blue skirt moved, and Rose’s head appeared upside down. “Come out!” she whispered.

She backed away, and I crawled out. She sat on the floor next to me.

"Happy Naming Day, Luna," Sofia said softly, her green eyes warm.

Oh! When I’d seen Father on the street from an upstairs window I’d forgotten.

"This is from Mother, me and Sofia," Rose added with a small smile. She handed me a small, wrapped package. When our fingers touched, her sun-kissed skin glowed against my pale hand.

"Thank you," I whispered, unwrapping it to find a delicate gold charm of a bird with wings spread, the symbol of freedom. A chain was threaded through a loop on the top of the bird's head.

"Put it on," Sofia encouraged, and I did, the charm sparkling in the light before I tucked it under my dress of unbleached linen. Canta did what she could, but Father gave her no money for clothing for me.

Since my mother had been executed as a witch and a curser, he’d taken her dowry in recompense for being tricked into marrying her. I was penniless, and lucky I got food and a roof. He told me this often, and mocked Canta for her weakness of using her own money to clothe me in finer clothing than the servants.

The door banged open, and there stood Father.

No warning. Nowhere to run.

Before any of us could move, he had crossed the room, his hands like iron around my arm.

I bit my lip and swallowed my cry of pain as his fingers dug deep into my arm. Making a sound wouldn’t stop him and would upset Rose more. He yanked me to my feet, past Sofia and Rose. Rose clutched Sofia, whose green eyes glittered with anger.

I tripped trying to match his longer stride and he dragged me several paces on the floor before I recovered my feet. I stepped on my hem, and the cloth ripped, tangling my steps further.

"Where are you taking me?" My voice broke as he pulled me outside. He’d threatened to sell me to a brothel when I became a woman, but I’d never thought he would actually do it.

But now I was a woman, and he could.

My bones creaked as he tightened his grip. "You’re a woman now, Luna. I’m taking you to your husband."

He yanked me into his study and threw a small bundle of cloth at me. My hands trembling, I hurried to unfold it.

It was a dress similar to the one Rose wore, though the fabric was a little finer. I looked from the dress to him in time to have my ear boxed.

I yelped with pain.

“Hurry up! Dress! I can’t have you looking like a pauper, even if you are one. And if I see you again, I’ll have the value of every coin I had to spend on it out of your hide.”

Dressing as fast as I would, I still wasn’t quick enough and took another blow on my back. Then he grabbed my arm and dragged me to the courtyard.

The new shoes hurt as I tried to keep up with him, pinching my toes with unyielding leather. The heels clacked on the rough stones.

Our old carriage awaited at the end of the walk. I didn’t recognize the pair of horses hitched to it; they were fine and glossy and stamped their hooves impatiently. The de Spoleto coat of arms was plain on the door, inlaid in ebony, though the wood was scratched and unpolished. By the time we reached the carriage, I was limping from the pain in my feet.

Father shoved me inside, hopping in behind me. That was scary. He never sat in the carriage when he could ride. As it jerked into motion, I huddled in the opposite corner, watching him warily.

He leaned forward, his light brown eyes hard on mine, like a hawk on its prey. I pushed myself back into the thin dusty cushion.

"Make him happy," Father ground the words out.

I had no idea what exactly that meant. Make sure the cook prepared his favorite foods?

My mouth was dry as the carriage bounced over the stone road, jostling me hard enough I had to clench my teeth to keep from biting my tongue. Father’s glare didn’t waver from me, and it was hard not to shake.

Finally, we arrived at a towering mansion on Noble’s Hill, where the wealthy aristocrats lived in Legnali. The little resort offered cool breezes and the sea in the summer, and cold and storms in the winter. Unlike the rest of the aristocrats, Canta, Rose and I lived here year-round. Father preferred Kalion, the capital.

Father’s family, the de Spoleti, were old but not rich, a cadet branch of the Imperial family. We were poor compared to the luxury that the families in this part of town lived in.

The carriage had barely stopped before Father grabbed my wrist again and jumped out. My knee banged the step painfully, making me limp even more. He dragged me through the gate, past carved stone walls encircling the yard, and down a path leading to the house. By the time we reached the door I’d almost lost the fight against tears of pain.

The door opened, revealing a tall thin man with receding black hair looking down his nose at us. “Lord de Spoleto. Lady d’Alvarez is in. Follow me.”

He turned left immediately, and the next room over was a study. A rug from Unfrijan covered the floor, all jeweled color and sinuous twining lines. The walls were lined with shelves, all in a dark wood, filled with scrolls and books and interesting little knick knacks. A woman waited near a massive desk, which had nothing on it but a single feather pen. The wood gleamed with polish.

She was tall, as tall as Father, with smooth bronze skin and black hair swept up in what looked like hundreds of thin braids elaborately coiled on top of her head. While her face was angular and sharp, her pale brown eyes were warm as she smiled.

The rose silk of her elegant gown was embroidered with golden flowers that matched the hairpins securing her hair. I clasped my hands together, awkward in my new clothing. Since I was apparently already married, I didn’t need a new gown or a red veil to cover my hair for the ceremony.

I hoped Canta and Rose would pack up my few belongings and protect them from being thrown out or burned as my mother’s had been. Her wedding veil was the only thing I had of hers.

“Lunetta. I’m Vala d’Alvarez, your new mother. It’s good to see you again, the last time we met you were a babe in arms.” Her voice was husky and rich and she walked forward and extended her hands to me.

Her perfume surrounded me, the sweet jasmine with the bitter notes of myrrh underneath.

"My lady," I managed to reply as I took them, my dread giving way to cautious hope. If she was kind, perhaps this new life would be better. If this wasn’t a cruel trick, or my husband wasn’t a monster. Knowing Father, he probably was.

Where was my husband? Surely, he and his father would be present to greet me too.

“Marco is ill, and Benedetto is detained until this evening,” Lady Vala said kindly, as if reading my thoughts. Then, in a cooler tone, “Emilio. Thank you for bringing her. My steward will remit the bride price as agreed later today.”

The dismissal was obvious.

I flinched at his expression, then he nodded to her curtly. “Vala. May the absent gods keep you.”

“And you,” she responded.

After a moment, my father's footsteps faded away. My feet throbbed in time with my heartbeat. I didn’t want to glance down, but I was afraid I was bleeding into my new shoes.

Vala pressed my shoulder. "Your rooms are upstairs. I’ll walk you to them.”

She would show me instead of handing me to a servant? I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

A few steps down the hall she paused, glancing down. “Foolish girl! You should have told me your feet were injured!”

She clapped her hands. A flurry of activity followed as servants converged, one picking me up and another easing the shoes off. My feet were bleeding.

At the sight, another ran to fetch the herb master down the street. Yet another started cleaning the splotches of blood I’d left when the shoes came off.

The grandeur of her home passed in a blur as I was rushed upstairs, very different from my home. When we reached my room, the servant settled me in a chair made of fine woods and deeply cushioned in blue velvet with golden trim. From where I sat, the attached bathing chamber was clearly visible. The opposite wall was covered by a huge tapestry depicting the founding of Kalion, the stitchery and color exquisite.

So much luxury!

A round man in a plain robe walked in, carrying a large black satchel. He bowed to Lady Vala, then said, “Young lady, I’m told you injured your feet. Would you show them to me?”

I nodded and tugged the hem of my skirt up, He knelt beside me, examining my feet. “Fetch me warm water and a towel.”

He twisted his fingers, the natural moon-fueled shadow of his magic brightening to the warmer shade of a healing spell. I grabbed my magic, pulling it up so it wouldn’t drink up all the energy without permitting it to heal my feet.

I twisted in my seat as he cleaned my foot, then applied the magic to my cuts. Despite my best efforts, my magic consumed part of his and he frowned, looking at my foot.

His expression made me nervous, and I glanced at Lady Vala. She was staring at my foot too, and a satisfied smile curved her lips.

“That will be all, herbmaster. My steward will pay you.”

He rose, bowed and left.

“I’ll leave you to get ready,” Lady Vala said as two more servants, both young women, walked into the room. One of them carried a tray with a crystal bottle and glass, the other headed to the bathing chamber where I heard a rush of water.

The liquid in the bottle sparkled with magic. I drank the glass the servant gave me, feeling strange as my magic gobbled up whatever it was supposed to do. There was no way I could keep it from doing that when the magic went inside me.

“I’d like to bathe alone,” I said when the tub was full, steaming, full of fragrant oils.

They waited at the door as I submerged into the warmth. The water washed away the dust and fear sweat. I closed my eyes, letting the water soothe my aching muscles, the scents of jasmine and another flower lulling my senses.

Perhaps I could invite Sofia and Rose and my stepmother to visit once I’d met my husband. Since I’d be pregnant then, and a member of the d’Alvarez family. Father would have no power over me. I could protect them.

If my husband wasn’t just like Father. Lady Vala didn’t seem beaten down like Canta was though, so I dared to hope.

When I emerged from the bathing chamber, wrapped in a huge towel that was soft as a cloud, a new dress and jewelry had been laid out. My other clothes were nowhere to be seen.

“The evening meal will be served soon. Do you want help dressing?” asked the older of the two women.

I nodded. These gowns, rich fabrics trimmed with ribbons and delicate flowers of lace, were even finer than Rose’s. Lacing on the back meant I would need help getting it laced up. I’d never worn something fitted like that.

The silk dress whispered around me. One maid’s quick fingers tucked it up and pinned it along the hem; it had been made for someone taller than me. Even so, it was beautiful.

The other maid combed my hair out and braided it up with quick efficiency, pinning it with jeweled combs.

The powder they dusted on my face made me sneeze.

Indoor sandals were kind on my feet as I walked down the staircase. When I came to the lower floor, Vala met me in the hall. "Beautiful."

I followed Vala to the dining room where food was laid out on a side table. It smelled delicious and looked complex. Sauces and meat and bread and side dishes…Rose and I usually ate porridge and fruit, or bread and cheese. Elaborate meals were for adults.

But I was an adult now.

Watching Vala, I mimicked her choices and then carried my plates to the table. A slice of meat with a light sauce, rice, and a green dish I assumed was a vegetable. She passed over most of the food. I took more than she did. I was hungry enough to risk looking greedy or foolish.

The meat and sauce were very rich, the rice savory with a seasoning I didn’t recognize. The green dish was sour enough to make my mouth pucker.

Vala laughed at my expression. “It’s an acquired taste.”

I swallowed quickly and took a bite of the meat to chase the taste away.

"Are you aware of what is expected when Benedetto returns?" she asked when I was done chewing.

I shook my head. "That I should do my duty and make him happy."

She set her goblet down carefully. "Ah, I was afraid your father raised you in the strict form. What will happen might be a little uncomfortable, but Benedetto will fulfill his duties swiftly and then he'll be gone again."

I waited for her to continue.

"He seeks retribution for his older brother's death." Vala glanced away, sipping her wine. “This quest keeps him from home. You’ll live with me and his father until you’re old enough to keep your own household.”

I nodded again. If something happened to Rose, I’d do my best to avenge her. Since her mother and mine had been married in the strict form, our father owned us until he passed us to our husband and could do whatever he wished with us. I was safe from him as long as my husband didn’t reject me, but Rose was still under Father’s hand.

His friends’ opinions influenced his decisions. He didn’t want to look bad in their eyes. It would lose him status. I’d always thought that’s why he hadn’t sold me to a brothel.

Dessert, sliced fruit in cream, was brought to the table and we finished eating in silence.

Lady Vala’s voice broke my chain of thought. "Go to your room and rest now, Lunetta. Benedetto will be here soon."

I paused. “My Lady, once my husband comes home” I flushed, “may I invite my sister and her tutor to visit?”

She smiled at me. “Of course!”

The sun had nearly kissed the horizon, filling the dining room with dull golden light. Vala lifted a finger and a servant hurried forward to escort me upstairs. In my room, with the help of a maid who’d been waiting for me, I was unlaced and undressed, the jewelry put away in a small chest near the mirror.

The nightgown the maid pulled over my head was soft and white and shockingly transparent. Worry nagged at me, but the exhaustion of the day folded over me. My eyelids drooped as I climbed into my bed. I’d wake if footsteps approached my door.

The sound of the younger maid slipping into my room woke me, “He’s here. You need to be above the covers so he can see you,” she whispered, snapping her fingers to summon a tiny flame to light the bedside candles.

I moved the covers and sat up. She went to the wall and pushed the tapestry to the side, slipping out through a hidden door.

Vala’s voice came clearly through the shut door to the hall. "All you have to do is what comes naturally. Just pretend she’s another man’s wife, you seem to have no problem lying with them.” The tone was sharp and tart.

The door swung open, revealing my husband. He was even taller than his mother, with sharp golden eyes, black hair and tanned skin. His tunic didn’t hide broad shoulders, and he wore a sword at his hip, even indoors. Leather gloves were clenched in his left hand.

His expression was annoyed and harassed; someone being nagged.

Despite what the servant had said, I tugged the sheet toward me.

The air chilled. His expression morphed from annoyance to disgust, lips thinning, his fury a presence in the room with us. He took another step in, staring at me, and I braced myself for a blow.

He was like my father. All my hopes crumbled.

"This is a child." He snarled, turning away as though the sight of me burned his eyes. "Dead gods, did you really think I’d fuck that , Mother?"

The door slammed behind him, hard enough the tapestry rippled in the breeze.

What should I do now?