Chapter 22 Into the Woods
Into the Woods
As the hours passed, the surrounding landscape began to change.
The rolling hills flattened, and the open sky disappeared, replaced by a dense canopy of green leaves.
Thick trees rose tall around them, crowding together with bushes that filled every available gap.
The horses were forced to slow to a cautious walk, carefully weaving around sturdy trunks and sprawling roots.
So far, there’d been no sign that anyone tailed them: No branches rustled or snapped, no distant hoofbeats could be heard. Thanks to Gregory, it appeared the king’s men had been successfully led astray, at least for now. Maybe she had been wrong not to trust him . . .
As the distance between them and Grythorn stretched, and the risk of being caught dwindled, the adrenaline coursing through Luna’s veins ebbed.
Slowly, the tension coiled in her muscles dissipated.
She forced herself to relax, loosening her tight grip on the saddle horn and sunk deeper into her seat.
As if sensing her shift in demeanor, Pickles’s pace slowed even more, her steps unhurried but steady.
Luna put her hands in the air and enjoyed the cool forest air on her palms. Outside the palace, everything felt raw and real, untouched by careful hands.
The ground was mostly dirt, moss, and fallen leaves, unlike the hard bricks and stones she was used to walking on.
Even the air smelled different—cleaner. Earthier.
Luna was unaccustomed to travel though, particularly by horseback, and discomfort grew in her hips, legs, and bottom rather quickly.
In an attempt to alleviate her aches, she wiggled her hips backwards.
Damien shot her a not-so-subtle side-eye, frowned, and hopped off Barley, causing both horses to stop dead in their tracks.
Before Luna could ask what he was doing, he grabbed her leg. Where his fingers pressed, sparks tingled beneath her skin, causing her breath to hitch with a sharp inhale. She swore she heard him chuckle, like he found what his touch did to her entertaining.
Ever so gently, he manoeuvred her legs to either side of the saddle horn, positioning them to hang off the front of the saddle. The relief was immediate; the pressure on her bottom and the soreness developing in her thighs eased.
“Thank you,” she whispered before waving her hand about, gesturing to where they were, “for everything.”
His eyes darkened, a shadow sliding across his face as he turned away. It was as if he was uncomfortable with her acknowledging his efforts . . . appreciating his kindness.
When he turned back to her, his usual smirk was back in place. “Does that mean I’m no longer the enemy?” he asked coyly, but the words were low and somewhat rough, like they cost him something to say them.
His question went unanswered, and he remounted Barley, urging her to walk forward with Pickles in tow.
Luna wasn’t sure. The truth was, only time would tell. Guilt clawed at her chest, heavy and burdening, and she fidgeted with the saddle horn, her fingers tracing the leather strip that wrapped around the wood. Avoiding the question she instead asked, “Do you think we are safe now?”
“Yes”—his smirk faded, as if he was disappointed, but he kept his voice smooth, reassuring—“but the farther we are from Grythorn, the better.”
She couldn’t agree more; the thought of possibly facing the king’s men and their weapons again made shivers run down her spine. The powder that had been shot at them burned worse than fire . . . an experience she wished to never repeat.
Curiosity caused her to cock her head. “That was unicornbane, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “They wield it against us to wipe away our powers, albeit temporarily.”
“It didn’t seem to affect you.” She recalled how he had continued to fight off the guards, even when he was covered in it, but when a few flakes had landed on her, the pain had been all-consuming. She’d been unable to do, or think of, anything other than getting it off her.
His shoulders tensed like he, too, was reliving the fight. “It does weaken me, but I have enough training to help me power through it. Over the years, I’ve grown a bit of a resistance to it. It’s why I let them take me as a prisoner, I knew I would be able to escape their dungeons.”
Her time in the dungeons would probably always haunt her. Never had she felt so empty, her soul so hollow. Was it the confinement that had drained her? Or the unicornbane dust coating the walls, silencing something deep inside her? Probably a bit of both.
“Why would you volunteer to be a prisoner?” Luna knew he was strong, but she didn’t understand why he’d risk being trapped in such a wretched place.
Damien tilted his head slightly, considering the weight of the question.
“A miscalculation on my part,” he admitted, adjusting the reins in his hands as if the answer was of little consequence.
“I figured I’d end up in the dungeons with you, judging by how that guard handled you.
When you weren’t there, it made saving you a little trickier.
” A beat passed before he wryly added, “Looking back, walking through the front doors and fighting my way to you might have been the simpler option.”
“Thank you doesn’t seem like enough for everything you went through to rescue me.”
“I’d rather you not thank me at all. I’ve rescued both my sisters more times than I can count from bad situations—ones far worse than yours. This was truly no trouble.”
If he considered that no trouble, it made Luna wonder what kind of messes his sisters got caught up in. “Still, you didn’t have to. So, thank you.”
A faint crease formed between his brows. “You know, you’re the first person to ever thank me for something.”
She blinked, unsure what to say to that, and he dismissed it with a huff.
“I’ve never met someone so na?ve to the hatred of a human’s heart. It wouldn’t have been right to have gone my own way, knowing you were more than likely in danger.”
“You make it sound like rescuing me was due to some kind of moral obligation.”
“What other reason would there be?”
She bit her lip, gaze dropping to her hands as she dipped her chin, her hair slipping forward to shield her face.
Embarrassing thoughts unravelled in her mind, but she wasn’t about to admit that she thought he saved her because he had feelings for her.
Maybe she’d even hoped, as silly as that sounds, since they barely knew each other.
Practically still strangers at this point.
Besides, she shouldn’t be worried about that. The fate of her family was still unknown; she should be in despair, crying tears of guilt—not sitting here discussing the night’s events in such a casual manner. Perhaps she truly was as heartless as the king said.
No, she scolded herself. This wasn’t the time to have a pity party. Once she was safe from danger, she could cry for all she had lost. Yes. Later, she would process her shock and let the magnitude of everything that had happened hit her.
Without warning, a rogue branch struck Luna’s shoulder. She cried out in pain as she lost her balance. Swift as lightning, Damien’s hand steadied her before she could tumble off Pickles.
She tightened her grip on the saddle horn with both hands and squeezed her legs, sitting more upright. When she was settled, she wordlessly thanked Damien with a smile.
He gestured forward. “We’re getting to the heart of the forest. The trees will open up soon, once we pass it.”
As they continued their journey, her mind wandered.
She tried to avoid thinking about all the terrible things that had happened for fear that she would risk insanity if she did.
Instead, her thoughts centered around Damien.
Curiosity curled around her mind like a cat finding a spot of sunlight—warm, comforting, and, thankfully, distracting.
She absentmindedly brushed a hand through her hair and asked, “So . . . I didn’t know you and Gregory knew each other? ”
“Oh yeah, we go way back.”
She narrowed her eyes at his back as she processed what those words meant. “Is he also a unicorn?” Or had Damien shared his identity with a human?
He chuckled. “Yes, he is.”
Maybe the answers to her questions seemed obvious to him, but they most certainly weren’t to her. “He was one of the unicorns at the protection ceremony, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, as well as Corey—”
“Corey? Really?” Luna’s eyes widened with disbelief. No wonder the shopkeeper had been so friendly. Looking back, it seemed like nearly everyone she’d interacted with at the marketplace that day had been a unicorn. She glanced at Damien, suspicion creeping in. “And Marion?”
He shook his head. “No. She’s something else . . . but they’re all more or less friends of mine. You’ll see them again once we are at Winta and Felix’s.” He kept his head facing forward as he spoke, avoiding Luna’s narrowed gaze.
Disbelief overwhelmed her. How many were unicorns hiding in disguise?
There was no way it was a mere coincidence that she had met these people on the one and only day she had rebelled against the king’s rules and had her first transformation, right?
And what had Damien meant when he said Marion was something else?
She studied him, unsure if she wanted the answers to her questions.
What if she didn’t like them? He was the one currently rescuing her, helping her escape the guards.
He was her lifeline, her guiding light to freedom; she couldn’t risk jeopardizing that.
Deciding she didn’t want to know, she asked instead, “You mentioned meeting Gregory at Kalt Ravine. Why there?”
“It’s the closest town to Winta and Felix’s place,” he answered matter-of-factly, “but we’re going to stop at the small village of Hazelwood first for supplies before we head there.”