Chapter 28 Gawen
Gawen
When Luna came to, a blanket was drawn around her shoulders and Damien was lying beside her, shadows swirling in his eyes, threatening to devour her whole.
“You’re up,” he said sharply.
He was worried, not that Luna blamed him; she was too.
Wordlessly, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. Gawen was sleeping peacefully on Taemin’s chest with several of Sael and Ly’s children around him, but Ly and Sael were gone.
As if Damien could read her mind, he answered, “I told them the battleground isn’t too far away from here, and after the ‘nightfall’ event, they were eager to find magic. They took tonight as a sign that Gawen’s end was near.”
“Did I hurt him?”
He shook his head just as Taemin let out a loud groan, shifting his body to curl around his baby. A tendril of shadow wrapped around Taemin, coaxing him back to sleep.
“You tried to save a human.” Damien’s voice was quiet as to not wake the others, but he spoke the last word with such disdain her jaw dropped open. Stupidly, he continued. “Don’t do that again.”
Fire roared inside of her, her spirit screaming at the imaginary shackles. Her gaze snapped to his—defiant, unflinching. There was no way she was going to start obeying rules again. Not his. Not anyone’s.
She snarled, baring her teeth like fangs. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem?!” he whispered furiously. “We don’t heal their kind.”
We? She scoffed; he was alone on that principle. “That might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“You could’ve gotten us both discovered and then what?
” He gestured to the sleeping group. “You think they would be grateful? You think they would’ve appreciated the toll healing someone takes?
” He released a heavy breath through his nose.
“No. They would have murdered us. Taken us for our parts, of which they’re so desperate to get their hands on. ”
Her chest tightened and hot coals burned her lungs.
Her family was human, the friends she loved .
. . and he thought the whole species was trash.
Dirt under his fingers. Lint between his toes.
“Don’t talk like that,” she said, her voice smaller than she intended.
“They aren’t all bad.” Not that she had a ton of proof, though.
Humans didn’t exactly have the best track record with unicorns or her, but Gawen was a baby—he was innocent.
She gave a derisive snort at his silence and rose, walking away to leave him with his thoughts. Over her shoulder, she said, “Next time, I’ll try to be more discreet.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “There’s not going to be a next time.” His voice was low, firm, as if there was no room for argument—an order from a prince.
But she wasn’t his subject. Placing her hands on her hips, she summoned her prettiest, court-appropriate fake voice. “Is he healed?”
“Well, no.”
“Then next time”—she clicked her tongue to the top of her mouth—“I’ll be more discreet.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You realize an illness costs a lot more power than healing a little cut.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You barely have any control over your magic. If you somehow managed to heal him, it might kill you in the process.”
“And doing nothing is the better option?” She flicked her blonde hair behind her. “I think his life is worth the risk.”
He jumped to his feet, towering over her; he stood so close their noses nearly touched. “Then you are indeed a fool.”
She matched his energy, staring right back at him, eyes unblinking. No matter what he said, she would not yield. She wouldn’t leave Gawen ill when they could help.
Damien groaned and stepped back, slamming his hand to his forehead, his face scrunched in pain.
Good. Let it hurt. He deserved it.
She’d followed the rules all her life—rules that were supposed to keep her safe. And where had that gotten her? Betrayed. Locked in a dungeon like an animal.
With every unsteady breath Gawen took, her heart cracked a little more.
It wasn’t just about him, she’d left an entire kingdom exposed, countless lives hanging in the balance—all because she refused to do the ‘right’ thing.
If she healed this child, it could serve as a form of redemption.
And selfishly, she hoped it would lighten the guilt still weighing heavily on her shoulders.
Avoiding Damien’s gaze, she moved without hesitation towards Taemin and Gawen; her steps were silent, careful not to wake them.
As gently as she could, Luna placed a trembling hand on Gawen’s back and closed her eyes.
She barely registered Damien’s footsteps behind her.
Her focus turned inward, reaching for the light burning at her core.
That white-hot flame—wild, radiant, relentless—flared in answer to her call.
It surged up through her like a sunbeam forced through glass .
. . too hot, too fast. She tried to hold it back, but it was volatile, pouring through her skin in waves, threatening to scorch everything it touched.
Then—a cool hand pressed against her shoulder.
Not physical, not quite, but real enough that her body stilled.
Damien’s magic slipped around hers—slow, deliberate, patient. Shadows, thick as velvet, curled around her power. Her magic bucked against it, stubborn and burning too bright, but his didn’t fight back. His shadows simply . . . guided. Like taking her hand. Like showing her how to breathe.
And just like that, her magic softened.
Where she had been starlight, he was the night sky. Infinite and unshakable. His shadows wove into her light until she couldn’t tell where his power ended and hers began. He bore the weight, shaped the current. She simply held on and let herself be led.
Together, their magic poured into Gawen.
She could feel it; she could feel Damien sending it deep into Gawen’s chest, where lungs faltered and his heart beat too weakly. Their magic threaded through his body, stitching it whole.
It drained her, pulling every spec of warmth from her and leaving her lungs tight, her body folding in on itself. Yet, even with such discomfort, she didn’t stop.
She could almost see Gawen healthy, happy, so she pushed everything she had, everything she was, into him.
Their magic settled inside his little body like stars finding their place in the sky.
Weak and shaking, her hand slid off of Gawen and fell to her side. Damien wrapped his arm around her, steadying her.
“That was a really stupid idea, you know,” he whispered in her ear.
Through her daze and exhaustion, she barely heard him. “Or really brave . . .”
A low chuckle was his only response before he helped her to her feet. She wanted to shove him away, to prove to him she was strong, but she was too exhausted to reject his support. She leaned against him, and he helped her back to her blanket, tucked her in and told her to go to sleep.
Weak to the bone, with chill creeping in, her body relished in the warmth the blanket provided.
With no energy left to fight him, she complied and shut her eyes.
Before she could drift off to the land of unconsciousness, she heard Damien shuffle as he moved around their little makeshift camp.
Peeking one eye open, he grabbed the necklace they had stolen from Hazelwood, the one made of unicorn hair and placed it over Gawen’s neck.
“We did it then?” she asked, voice barely audible.
Damien nodded his head. “He’s healed.”
Morning arrived, and with it, more cold. Luna rubbed her hands over her arms, coaxing her blood to flow back down her extremities. Frosty dew covered the grass, the sun not quite over the horizon yet. She had barely opened her eyes when Damien asked, “You feeling okay?”
She nodded, despite being bone-tired, and pushed herself to her feet.
Stumbling to the riverbank, legs shaking, Luna cupped her hands and drank deeply.
The cold water burned her throat, waking her in a way the dawn and sunlight couldn’t.
Magic had taken its toll on her body, and she was far from recovered.
Damien crouched beside her, swaying a little on his feet as he offered her what was left of the bread. “Hungry?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said, taking a bite; the bread was stale, like usual, but at least it was filling.
His gaze drifted to the river, searching the stones by the water’s edge.
His fingers wrapped around a flat, smooth one, turning it over thoughtfully in his palm, as though it held some secret he couldn’t quite grasp.
Silently, he stood and flicked his wrist, sending the stone skimming across the surface.
It danced—once, twice, three times—before the water swallowed it whole.
As the ripples faded, she asked. “Are you upset with me?”
He paused, eyes glassed over, still fixed on the river. With a small, resigned shrug, he replied, “You have a big heart. How could I ever be mad at that?”
She smiled warmly, relieved by his words. “What about you?” she asked, glancing up at him. “Are you all right?”
He nodded stiffly, looking away as if that would help hide how drained he was.
“Shadows weren’t made for healing . . . but I can manage because royal blood comes with brutal training.
” He picked up another stone and whipped it across the water.
“My training’s more about keeping people alive on a battlefield than fixing illnesses.
There are actual healers for that.” The stone bounced once before sinking beneath the surface.
“I’m tired, sure—but nothing a little darkness and rest won’t fix. ”
Luna blinked. “Darkness helps you recover?”
“That and food.” He offered a faint smile. “I just need to take it easy for a bit, at least until the sun sets.”
She hesitated. “Would it have . . . really killed me? Healing him, I mean.”