Chapter 41 Down, Down, Down #2
“No,” Damien interrupted, his hands moving in front of Luna as if to block an attack. His voice was flat but unyielding. “You stay right there.”
Nina pressed a hand to her heart as if his words had physically harmed her.
“So unnecessarily cruel,” she whispered, shaking her head.
“Do not tell me you fear me so greatly that you would deny a mother what is likely to be her one and only embrace of her child?” Her gaze flicked to Luna’s.
“Or do you not know where he is sending me?”
“She knows.”
Exasperated, Luna shot Damien a pointed look. “Why is she even chained? She’s not an animal.” They were in a demonic temple, and she was locked in a cell. Surely there wasn’t anything Nina could do to them at this point? “Undo them.”
“Precaution,” Damien said, in that same flat voice. “Even though unicorn magic doesn’t work in demonic temples, I’m certain she would be the one to find a way. The dampening cuffs provide additional security.”
“If I wanted to curse you”—Nina lifted her hands, clicking the cuffs together—“these would not stop me.” Her lips curved upwards, devilishly. “But I’d never dream of harming the man who brought my daughter to me.”
Luna doubted that. She had a feeling that if Nina could, she would do just that.
“You’re staying chained,” Damien said to Nina, then he turned to Luna. “And you are staying right here.”
Realizing this wasn’t a fight she was going to win, Nina retreated back in her cell. Seeing this as a dismissal attempt, Luna almost turned to leave when Nina spoke again, stopping her in her tracks. “I’ve always worried if I made the wrong choice . . .”
Immediately, Luna knew what she meant. She tried her best to give her a reassuring smile.
“The family they gave me . . . They were kind. Took me in as one of their own.” She thought of Angie and Darius—of every lie wrapped up as safety.
“I think they truly loved me. Probably still do, but . . .” Luna licked her lips, summoning her courage to ask, “I wanted to know why you gave me up? Why you decided to do it.”
Nina’s shoulders stiffened. “I was a refugee when I found Grythorn. The King sheltered me, on the condition that I’d keep his kingdom safe.
When they found out I was pregnant, he thought raising a child would distract me from those duties .
. . That a child would weaken my resolve, so we made a deal.
A family in his court would raise you like theirs.
I was never to speak to you. You were to be raised like a human so you’d be accepted among them.
” Nina’s voice broke. She turned her face away, staring at the wall.
It warmed Luna’s heart, though, that the decision to give her up was not made out of indifference but rather necessity.
“I named you Luna, the day you were born,” Nina continued.
“I had hoped naming you after the moon would give you its strength . . . I remember your tiny hands. How they reached for me as they took you away.” She looked back at Luna, eyes shining.
“I can’t believe how much you’ve grown. You’re so beautiful. ”
Warmth spread through Luna at the compliment. It wasn’t like when Felix had said it, it didn’t feel pitiful. No. Nina truly thought Luna was beautiful, and Luna felt no need to hide her disfigurement from her; it healed something jagged inside of her.
Nina’s gaze flicked to Damien briefly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Did they hurt you?”
“No,” Luna quickly answered. “He saved me.”
Nina’s laugh was as sharp as a blade. “Of course he did. Or that’s what he wants you to think. Tell me—if you think about it, were you ever in danger before he arrived? Or did he arrange it all to become a hero in your eyes.”
Luna’s mouth opened, then closed. “What do you mean?”
“I saw him—them—at the ceremony,” Nina hissed. “His very presence planted a seed of doubt in those humans’ minds. They didn’t know where your loyalty lay. Then the humans overreacted—as humans always do—and Damien swept in to play the role of hero for you.”
Damien objected, voice icy. “Enough, Nina. Luna knows exactly what happened.”
Luna’s eyes flicked between them. “They always planned for me to replace you. They were never going to let me be just . . . me.”
“They wouldn’t have needed a replacement if he hadn’t stolen me away. The humans would’ve let you keep living your sweet lies. You’d still be safe, happy, na?ve if it wasn’t for him.”
But not free, Luna thought.
Lifting her hand, Nina gestured to her neck. “Let me guess—they took it off, didn’t they?”
Luna touched her own neck, to the spot where the pendant of her necklace used to rest. “How did you know?”
Damien moved closer, stepping in front of the bars, blocking Nina from view. “Don’t listen to this. She’s trying to poison you.”
“I told the King to give you a necklace,” Nina said, speaking through Damien as if he wasn’t there. “Our family—our bloodline—we all struggle to contain our magic.”
Luna peered around Damien, and with a sigh, he stepped aside.
“I wanted you to grow up slow, safe,” Nina continued, sitting on the stone floor again, her fingers mindlessly drawing circles in the dust. “I planned to tell you myself, help you through it, like my mother did for me.” Her mouth quirked in a small smile.
“I blew up half of the palace when I first transformed.”
“You did?”
“Yes.” Nina softly chuckled. “It took weeks to repair.”
“How do you control it?”
Nina glanced down at her hands, as if staring at her magic—which wasn’t possible considering the magical cuffs and the demon powers that held back unicorn magic.
That’s when Luna noticed the purple lines going up Nina’s arms. She hadn’t seen them before. They looked oddly similar to Marion’s, except instead of intricate circles, Nina’s line weaved up her arm like vines.
“Practice. Remember who you are.” She raised her gaze, her eyes fierce. “Let that guide you.”
Luna mentally tucked that knowledge away, like a treasure map to be analyzed later.
“Thank you for telling me. For . . . everything.” A small smile lifted her lips, hope soaring in her chest. “Maybe we can start anew. Have a second chance.” Nina was everything she had hoped her birth mother to be: A childhood dream come true.
“Sweet little Luna,” Nina cooed, her voice tenderly patronizing—like she was blessing a child who knew no better. She then pointed her chin and pointed in Damien’s direction. “They won’t allow us a future.”
“No.” Luna shook her head. “We will have one. He assured me that we will, right Damien?”
“Has he now?” Nina said, her eyebrows raised, still looking doubtful.
“I have,” Damien confirmed. “I told her if you cooperate with the Darkened One, you’ll be free in no time.” His tone was ice dressed as reassurance.
“Ah, I see now,” Nina purred. “You brought her here so I’d play nice. You think yourself clever, don’t you, Shadow Prince?”
Damien exhaled—tired, done. “Dinner will be brought to you soon. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Almost on cue, Luna’s stomach rumbled and she curled an arm around herself, heat creeping up her neck. Damien placed his hand on the small of her shoulder, guiding her away.
No. She wanted to scream at him. The need to stay, to never be parted again, surged through her. And yet, she needed space to collect her thoughts, to steady her heart.
This couldn’t be her only visit, the only time she ever saw her birth mother.
It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
But Luna bit back the words and instead called over her shoulder, “I’ll see you soon . . . Mom.”