12. Cato
Cato
We scour the forest, moving carefully and listening for any sign of predators.
Every snapped twig and shifting branch makes us pause, but we find nothing.
Only after we’re certain the area is clear do we finally move forward.
We comb through the forest, checking every trunk and cluster of trees, and the tediousness of it all makes me restless.
By the time we stumble upon the homestead, we’ve been out here for hours.
It’s laid out exactly as Nyx described—a long single-story home built nearly into the side of the hill.
Grass and flowers would’ve grown along the natural roof, but now there are only remnants of stubborn weeds sticking up through the inches of snow.
Old garden fences have fallen over, and a few trees lay across rows of plants that were once well-tended.
Ronan’s face is grim as he scans our surroundings.
The snow muffles the ambient sounds, and so far, it’s been quiet.
Aside from the occasional shifting of tree branches, we’ve only heard a few lightweight footsteps padding in the distance.
They belong to small creatures, but it’s unnerving.
The mood isn’t helped when the wind picks up, cutting across our skin and howling among the trees.
They’re denser here, limiting our range of sight.
Aryn glances up at the sky, nodding toward the smallest, brightest moon that’s half-hidden by the horizon. “We’ll lose the light soon,” he says.
Ronan looks around before latching onto the way Cameron shivers. I fight to hold my own chills back, but my body isn’t exactly obeying me right now. The cold is worse than I could’ve imagined. Back home, the worst I dealt with was a chilly night or a bad rain.
This is different.
It’s a new kind of enemy, one that can’t be beaten with knives or fists. It sinks into your bones like it’s trying to carve you open from the inside. Every breath burns, and my fingers are stiff and clumsy inside my gloves.
Still, I keep my face neutral. No one needs to see me struggling.
“Let’s take a look inside,” Ronan finally says. “This place looks abandoned, but we need to be sure. We can talk more when we’re out of the weather.”
He leads the way, forcing the rusted hinges open.
Wind hurls the door back and snow flutters into the dark room as Aryn and I bring up the rear.
We scout to make sure there are no signs of being watched before we push the door closed once more and give our ears a moment to adjust to the sudden stillness.
Inside, the light from the moons barely reaches through the windows, but it’s clear no one has been here in years. While the larger furniture remains, it’s covered in a thick layer of dust and draped in sheets of cobwebs.
“It doesn’t look like there was a struggle,” Aryn says as he opens a few cabinets. “There’s no damage to the property, and it looks like they cleared out all the personal items.”
“Wonder why they left, then?” Lillith muses.
“Could be any number of reasons,” Taryn answers. “Maybe resources dried up. Nyx is a vegetarian, so I imagine his family may be as well. It’s possible the cold could’ve killed off their crops and forced them to relocate.”
“Or maybe there was trouble in the area,” Cameron says with a grimace, “and they had to get away from it. I can’t imagine them fighting.”
“There’s no way to know,” Aryn says. “Lets search the house. I doubt there’s anything of use left behind, but it can’t hurt to check.”
We scan the home, digging through all five of the modest bedrooms before reconvening in the living area. Ronan gnaws at his lip, glancing out the window to where that small moon has turned into a mere sliver on the horizon.
“Traveling in the darkest part of night is asking for trouble. Nocturnal creatures are a risk, as is mis-navigating the terrain with all this snow and ice. We could end up in a ravine or falling into a lake.” His eyes move to mine, then over to Aryn.
“There are at least five hours left until sunrise, and being out in the cold has already taken a toll on mobility.”
“Yeah, my fingers feel like they might just snap in half,” Lillith says, flexing them under her gloves.
“What if we camp here for the night?” Ronan asks. “It’s only been a few hours since we arrived, but…”
“It makes sense,” Aryn insists. “The weather is getting worse and it’ll be fully dark soon. It’s approaching night on the other side anyway, and none of us slept well last night. Being tired will only get us into trouble.”
Ronan nods, trying to hide the relief on his face at Aryn’s agreement. “We stay here until morning light, then. No fires. It’s too risky inside, and we don’t know who might be close by. We’ll stay together in this main area.”
We drop our packs in the open space, and I have zero shame as I unroll my sleeping bag and climb inside. “Holy fucking gods, that’s amazing,” I groan as I sink into the furry warmth.
Cameron copies me and rolls his bag out beside mine, then sighs contentedly as he crawls in. Ronan crouches beside him, a fond smile on his lips as he presses a gloved hand against Cameron’s flushed cheeks. “You need to eat something to keep your strength up, mo’sziv. It’ll help you stay warm.”
“Ah, see, I was hoping you’d treat me like a baby bird and just kinda drop it into my mouth,” Cameron says as he burrows deeper into the sleeping bag.
Ronan chuckles as he digs in Cameron’s pack to pull out a few of the meal bars. I watch for a moment, tracking how carefully Ronan takes care of his mate.
Something I haven’t felt in years flares up inside me, longing for the sort of connection that lasts beyond a few fleeting hours of physical release. So many of my friends are finding that kind of happiness now, filling those quietly empty spaces with something more.
More never felt attainable for someone like me, though.
“Are you alright?” Aryn asks from behind me.
I roll over to find him setting up his sleeping bag beside mine. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugs, opening a bar for himself. “Your energy felt off.”
“My energy,” I snort as I stare at my pack, not wanting to climb out of my pocket of warmth now that I’m in it. Aryn huffs as he passes me a bar, and I nod my thanks as I tear into it.
“Laugh if you want. My kind are very in tune with others’ emotions.”
“Are you now?” I ask through a giant bite.
“We are,” he agrees. “For example, I can almost always tell when you’re irritated.”
“Do I glow red or something like that?”
A smile tugs at his lips as he nods at the moonlight shining off my skin. “Something like that.”
“What about my other moods?”
He shrugs, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Wouldn’t know. Haven’t seen any others yet.”
I bark out a surprised laugh. “Hey now! I expect that kind of bullshit from the others, but not you.”
He gives a noncommittal hum, looking far too pleased with himself as he slips into his sleeping bag. For a moment, we sit in silence, eating and staring out the window. Red moonlight breaks into rays as it drops behind the trees, highlighting the fat flakes of falling snow.
“Three moons is weird as fuck,” I say, glancing between the two giant ones visible from where I’m sitting.
“I imagine it would be for you,” he agrees, “just as it was strange for me to see only one in your world.” He points at the space between the two large ones, where the other just fell beneath the horizon. “Did you notice the smaller one?”
“The pink one?”
“Yeah. That one is called Kuu. She’s known as the Rebel Moon.”
“Why?” I glance over and find a wistful smile on his face.
“According to legend, Kuu was a mighty Dreven warrior. She was a savior of our people.”
“Dreven?” I ask, nodding down his frame. “That’s you?”
“It is, yes. A very long time ago, there was no structure or hierarchy. Whoever was the strongest ruled until someone else took over. They were usually evil… willing to do whatever was necessary to hold their position. They murdered their opposition, plundered and killed for what they needed. If you were in their inner circle, you lived like royalty, but in the outskirts of the cities and beyond the walls, people lived in poverty. Smaller towns struggled, and most villages were barely hanging on.”
“Sounds familiar,” I mutter.
He nods. “It was not very different from the way your world is right now. A ruler took over that was worse than the others, and he developed a… fascination with my people. Our villages were raided and anyone to his liking was taken to be kept as courtesans within the castles.”
I sit up a little taller. “What the fuck?”
He nods, still staring at the sky. “We are trained warriors, but we value life. They… did not. Those who fought were killed, until there were very few of us left. Aside from those kept in the castles, my kind were largely extinct.”
My stomach clenches at the image of Aryn subdued and defeated. I must react, because his eyes meet mine in question. “That was before, though, right?” I ask. “You weren’t…”
“No,” he insists. “This was long before my time. Thousands of years ago.”
“What happened to them?”
“Eventually? They stopped fighting and accepted their place in society. Made a life as best they could. For hundreds of years, we were spread out through every castle in the realm. If you look at old paintings and tapestries, you’ll often see a Dreven waiting in the wings, ready to serve.”
My stomach tightens at the thought. “That’s fucking terrible.”
“It is,” he agrees, “But, as it always seems to go… one day, someone had enough.”
“Let me guess, that was Kuu?”
He nods. “She was born into that life at one of the smaller castles, but wanted more for her people. She worked her way up the ranks and made herself known to be the best courtesan in the lands. Rulers started demanding her presence, until news of her… skills reached the high leader. Naturally, he wanted her for himself.”
“Naturally,” I agree bitterly, clenching my fists inside their gloves.
“She was moved to the capital and became his personal companion. She spent years pleasing him… years pretending to be perfectly subservient. Eventually, his guard lowered, and she was allowed more freedoms than the others.”
I roll my eyes. “Men are always defeated by their dicks.”
He chuckles as he settles deeper into his bag.
“It does seem that way, doesn’t it? Once she knew she wasn’t being watched, she collected supplies in secret and snuck them to the other courtesans.
She used her freedom to map exits from the castle, and found a way they could all escape.
There was a passage that was hidden by shadows during the new moon.
They waited for the right night, and when the leader was finished with her, she slit his throat. ”
I cough a surprised laugh at the unconcerned way he says it. “Simple as that, huh?”
A small, amused smile tugs at his lips. “We tell it in sentences and minutes instead of years of careful planning, so yes, it does sound simple. After Kuu killed him, she covered his body in the bed to make it look as though he was sleeping, then tucked the knife in her skirt. She returned to the courtesan quarters with nothing more than the weapon and a single lantern. According to legend, as she led the others to freedom, the leader’s blood was still dripping from her hands.
It covered the lantern and gave the light a pink glow.
” He gestures at the moon. “This is why Kuu shines so brightly in the night. It is why she leads us for the hours she is in the sky.”
“What happened to the other courtesans?” I ask. “The ones in the other castles and towns.”
“Our people fled into the mountains. They formed a village there and devoted their lives to discipline and training. She spent her entire life rescuing our kind. If not for her, we’d either be enslaved or extinct.
It’s said the Fates rewarded her when she died, allowing her to take her place among the skies.
There, she keeps watch over those she saved. ”
“That village…” I start, then trail off. “That’s the one we’re headed to? The village you grew up in?”
“Observant,” he says. “It is. According to the records, I am descended from Kuu, though many, many generations removed. Last I was here, my lineage was considered the old family.”
“Damn,” I say with a huff. “Do you think it’s still there?”
A deep breath fills his lungs as his eyes close, and the pink light from the moon fades until he’s barely visible in the darkness. “That village survived the very worst this world has to offer. It brought an entire race freedom and gave us purpose. It has to still be there.”
“It will be,” I say, with so much conviction it forces his eyes back to mine. “And we’re going to make it there.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Bet,” I challenge. “We prepared for this, remember?”
“We did,” he agrees.
Silence falls between us as we both snuggle into our bags.
Quiet conversation drifts our way from the others, but I’m not paying attention.
My belly is full and I’m warm for the first time since we arrived.
Still, sleep doesn’t come right away. I find myself glancing over at Aryn again and again, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way the faint moonlight traces the line of his jaw.
After a long stretch of quiet, I speak, voice low. “You know, you would’ve done the same thing.” He doesn’t open his eyes, but his brows lift in question. “Led the others away from danger. You like to pretend otherwise, but you’d play the hero, too.”
A tiny smile tugs at his lips. “I’ll leave the glory to you, Cato,” he murmurs.
Something pulls in my chest at the sleepy way he says my name, and the quiet steadiness and goodness he doesn’t feel a need to broadcast. It’s the kind of calm I’ve never had—never trusted, really.
People like me don’t get soft things like that.
We take what we can get in the dark and move on before it can be taken away.
I swallow and look away, staring up at the strange moons through the window. “Get some sleep, Aryn.” My eyes squeeze closed, willing the feeling to fade.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “You too.”