Luna
The woods are too quiet.
Branches creak under the weight of snow, and our boots leave deep imprints in the drifts, but beyond that—silence. I should say something, ask Sawyer where he’s taking me, demand to know why he looks so intent with his hand clamped around mine. But I don’t. Words snag in my throat.
So I follow for what feels like miles, until the trees break apart and stone rises out of the earth like a jagged scar. My chest clenches before my mind catches up.
I almost don’t recognize the cave, but when I do… Time seems to grind to a halt.
My feet slow without meaning to. It hits me all at once—the dirty cell I woke up in, the drugs in my system, the taste of damp stone on my tongue.
The way my body shook so violently with adrenaline, and the fear I only half faked.
The first step in Sawyer’s grand plan to manipulate me. The first time I swore he couldn’t.
Here I am again. Eating from his palm the way he knew I would. I can’t even regret it.
Sawyer doesn’t have a torch, but he leads me just far enough past the mouth that the canopy and rock swallow us from above. Hidden from the drones, from the eyes in the sky. The shadows gather fast and wrap us in a hollow dimness.
I stand there, unmoving. Try to breathe past the knot in my chest. We’ve come full circle. I don’t know if it’s supposed to feel like closure or punishment.
Sawyer’s hand finds my jaw and tilts my face toward him. His eyes are steady, sharp blue in the faint light. He kisses me once, soft and unhurried, then pulls back just enough to search my face. “Are you okay?”
Am I okay?
People are dying. Lives have been lost.
The way I feel could not matter less. Still, we said no lies.
I shake my head.
Sawyer’s arms come around me and pull me into his chest. I let him. My forehead presses against the warm cotton of his shirt, the thump of his heartbeat beneath. For a long, suspended moment, it’s just that—the weight of him holding me together while the world splinters outside.
When I finally speak, my voice is muffled against him. “It’s the water. It has to be… The wells are being isolated, but I don’t know how we’ll manage as more people get sick. We’ll have to ration snowmelt, dig out channels, test everything—”
“No one else is getting sick.” His voice cuts clean through mine, low and absolute.
I lean back just enough to see him. His hands are still on my arms, grounding me. His eyes burn steady into mine, and they’re all that halts a frantic tide of words waiting to rush my tongue.
“It’s not the water,” he says.
I shake my head. “How do you know?”
His mouth opens, but he doesn’t speak. Closing his mouth, he just frowns.
The air stills around us as heavy as the stone walls. My stomach flips. “What did you—”
“Do you trust me?” he interrupts. Once upon a time, his trust was merely a game. Now, his eyes are dead serious.
Do I trust him…?
How could one ever trust a liar? A manipulator? A thief? As if I haven’t read Aesop’s Fables.
Sawyer and I are a couple of scorpions promising not to sting the other. It goes against our nature. It’s the biggest lie we’ve ever told ourselves.
And yet…
“Yes.”
He runs his hands down my arms and takes both of my hands. “Then I need you to trust that it isn’t the water. And the source has been taken care of.”
The words land like glass in my stomach. Taken care of. By him? By Angel? By whom?
I should press…
But if I do that, I’ll have to hate him. And I don’t know that I’m capable.
“Was it an accident?” I whisper. Already afraid of the answer.
Sawyer nods. His grip is steady, his gaze unflinching, and for now, I let myself believe him.
Only for a breath.
Then the panic claws back. “What do we do to save them?” My voice cracks, jagged with the weight of it. “Will they heal on their own? What—”
“No,” he says with certainty. “The bacteria they’ve ingested is deadly… It’s supposed to take at least a week to kill, but with the Dregs already dropping…”
My face chills as blood drains. “They need treatment.”
“Antibiotics,” Sawyer clarifies. The word falls between us like a forbidden spell. In the Sanctum, medicine might as well be witchcraft. Still, my heart lurches at the sound of it, equal parts relief and fear.
He speaks like a man not quite desperate. Like a man who’s already taking care of this on his own.
What does it say about me that I want him to? What does it say about my leadership, my faith, my character?
I look away and pull my hands from his.
“Luna… Without them, they’ll die.”
“Ye of little faith,” I huff. “Isn’t that what you said to my people?”
“To the deranged fucking cult?”
My eyes widen, and I snap my gaze to him like he struck me. His words sting just the same.
I drag in a breath sharp enough to burn. “What did you just say?”
Sawyer doesn’t flinch. He stands there, shoulders squared, eyes locked on mine with a steadiness that feels almost cruel.
“The Shadow Sanctum is a cult, Luna. A baby selling, little girl raping, elderly slaying cult… Biology doesn’t give a fuck about your faith.
If you don’t do something, more people are going to die. ”
My throat tightens, shame and fury warring until the only thing that comes out is a rasp. “This is who I am. I understand if you don’t agree with my theology, but—”
“Does it matter what I agree with? Does it matter what either of us believes at this point? Or can we just agree that something has to be done? What should we do—pray? Throw flowers in a circle and chant?”
I shake my head, more out of habit than conviction. “You don’t understand. We don’t bring things like that in here. If I even suggest it, the people will—”
“It’s over, Luna.” His voice drops lower, cutting, merciless. “The Sanctum’s days are numbered. The cops are circling as we speak, and…” His face flashes with something I almost don’t catch.
Dread.
“You’re going to be the person they cuff first… Do you really want to be responsible for the deaths of dozens of children before they get the chance?”
The ground shifts beneath my boots and draws my eyes to the snow. For as long as I’ve been alive, the Shadow Sanctum has been everything—our world, our order, our law. To hear him say it’s already gone… It's like he’s tearing away my anchor.
I take a shaky step back. “When they come for their blood, I’ll offer up my father. The Shadow Sanctum will—”
“How will you offer up your father if it’s your name on the documents?”
I look up. There’s that dread again. It sinks the pretty blue of his irises until they’ve found the ocean’s depths, wide pupils swallowing the sky blue.
Without him spelling it out, I understand.
I can’t offer up my father. Not when it’s me who’s guilty.
Breaking from his eyes, I try to take a breath. But the cave feels empty, all the oxygen sucked up by tension.
“Then you need to leave. Before they drag you down with us.”
“No.”
I face him.
Sawyer’s expression hardens. He doesn’t even blink.
My heart stutters. “What do you mean, no?”
“I mean, unless you’ve evolved into a woman who isn’t so goddamn stubborn to leave with me, I’m not going anywhere.”
I laugh. Though not a single thing is funny. “Don’t be stupid. The FBI is looking for you too. What are you going to do? Hold my hand in the back of the cop car?”
“Maybe,” he says simply, like it doesn’t matter.
My nails dig into my palms, the air strangling tight in my chest. “Why?”
His lips press thin. He hesitates two seconds too long. “Because.”
“Because?” My voice rises. “That isn’t an answer, Sawyer. Because why?”
He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. His gaze pins me, sharp and unrelenting, but underneath—something softer. Something dangerous.
“Because I love you.”
The cave holds the confession like it’s alive. Bouncing it off stone walls, sinking it into the air between us. For a moment, I can’t breathe.
I should’ve seen this coming. After all, I feel the same.
But it steals my breath.
My lips part, but no sound comes out. The thump of my heart drowns everything else.
He doesn’t move closer. Doesn’t reach for me this time. He just lets it sit there, raw and real, his chest rising and falling in heavy rhythm. Like a man who’s finally surrendered his last weapon.
And all I can do is stare at him, every wall inside me trembling under the weight of it.
I love you too, my heart coos while my mouth stays silent. I don’t know why I don’t say it back, but eventually, hurt crosses his expression, and I know it’s too late.
It isn’t the right time for this, the logical side of my brain assures me. Sawyer’s right. We need to act.
It’s only a question of how.
Even if I agreed with Sawyer… Even if I chose to turn against my people, against everything I’ve ever believed…
How would I get the medicine?
“Just come with me to the Hearth.” Sawyer takes my hands. “Let’s just see how bad it is… Then we can go from there… Okay?”
I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let me. And I’m relieved. “Will you respect my decision if I say no?”
“No,” he says, voice flat. Honest.
Funny, I prefer the version of him that lies.
He squeezes my hands while I scoff. “Honesty at last…”
The sharp edge between us dulls into silence, the kind that hums and swells until it’s all I can hear. His thumb drags across my knuckles, rough and steady, grounding me in a way no words ever could.
When his mouth finds mine, it isn’t hard or claiming. There’s no heat or demand. It’s slow. Patient. A kiss heavy with everything he just confessed, with everything I didn’t say back.
My walls quake, then crumble. My chest aches, but not from fear. From the terrifying relief of being wanted—being loved—by a man who doesn’t shiver in the presence of my icy cold soul.
I melt into him. My fingers curl into his shirt; my forehead brushes his as our breaths mingle in the cave’s shadow. For one suspended moment, there’s no sickness, no panic, no Sanctum. Just us.
And even if I can’t say it yet, my body answers for me, clinging to him like he’s the only solid thing left in a collapsing world.
When the kiss finally breaks, our foreheads rest together. A moment stolen between us. A moment that only flickers. Because we have too much to do. Too much to manage.
Too many people to save. Or not.
By the time he leads me from the cave, en route to the Hearth, my spine has steeled. My face has hardened.
It’d be a mistake to allow the drones to catch my worry. It’s the last thing my people need.
The Shadow Sanctum may not want me, but their Head Keeper is still here.