2
Rylan woke to sunlight slicing through the tall windows of his chamber, soft and golden, far too gentle for the pounding in his head.
He blinked slowly, groaning as he pushed himself upright. The sheets were twisted around him, his bare chest slick with sweat, and the scent of moonflowers lingered faintly in the air. It clung to the pillow beside him, subtle and intoxicating.
That was when he realized—
He wasn’t alone.
Or… he hadn’t been.
The other side of the bed was empty. Still warm.
He turned slowly, eyes scanning the room. The emerald dress was gone. So were the soft green slippers he remembered slipping off her feet like petals the night before. Only one trace remained—an outline in the pillow, a wisp of her scent, and a single, silvery strand of hair on the blanket.
Rylan’s heart sank, heavy and unfamiliar. He wasn’t the kind of man who chased after women the next day. He’d had flings, encounters, dalliances laced with expectation and formality. But this had been something else. Something real—if only for a fleeting moment.
And now she was gone.
Evanna had slipped out just before dawn.
She hadn’t meant to stay the night. She’d meant to leave as soon as he fell asleep. But when he’d wrapped his arms around her and whispered something in his sleep—“Don’t leave me yet”—she’d stilled.
She’d laid there in the darkness, listening to his breathing, her heart a wild thing in her chest.
Evanna had never been reckless. She didn’t believe in fairy tales. But last night had felt like one. A dangerous, beautiful fairytale she had no business stepping into.
So she did what she’d always done.
She ran.
Through the quiet corridors of the castle, she moved like a shadow—past snoring guards, dying candles, and fading echoes of celebration. No one stopped her. No one questioned her. She was just another girl slipping back into the darkness, forgotten by morning.
But she didn’t forget.
As she reached the edge of the forest, she paused—placing a hand on her stomach without even realizing it.
She didn’t know it yet.
Not entirely.
But a part of her—some wild, ancestral instinct—felt it.
Something had changed.
Back at the castle, Rylan sat at the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, hands tangled in his hair.
He tried to remember her face clearly, but it was like trying to hold fog in his hands. Only flashes remained: her laugh, the softness in her eyes, the tremble in her voice when she’d whispered his name.
Evanna.
He said it out loud, tasting it. It felt like an echo. Like something he was already losing.
“Where did you go?” he whispered.
He didn’t know why it mattered so much. He didn’t know what she had awoken in him, or why her absence felt more like a loss than any battle wound he’d ever earned. All he knew was that the room felt colder without her.
And as the day wore on, he tried to bury it. To forget. Like he always did.
He returned to his duties. He barked orders. He rode through the territory and inspected borders. He bared his teeth at challenges and drank to drown the questions circling in his mind.
But every time he closed his eyes…
He saw green silk on stone floors.
He felt her touch.
And he dreamed of a girl who vanished with the moon.