Chapter Six

Worth a Little Burning

"Just like that? You don't even know me."

"I know you're brave." He resumed cleaning her foot, his touch impossibly gentle. "You walked to your death without crying. You talked back to the High Priestess. You ran through a forest barefoot without a single complaint."

"That's not bravery," Lunar said. "That's just—not knowing what else to do."

"That's the definition of bravery," Kaelen said. "Doing what you have to do even when you're terrified."

Lunar felt something hot and strange bloom in her chest. She looked away, at the fire, at the shadows dancing on the walls.

"I don't want to be a sacrifice," she whispered.

"Then don't be."

"It's not that simple. I was—I was born for it. It's my purpose. It's all I've ever been."

"Fuck your purpose." Kaelen's voice was flat and hard, and Lunar's head snapped up. He was looking at her with that fierce, burning intensity again. "You weren't born to die on anyone's altar. You were born to live. You were born to be free. You were born to be—"

He stopped. His jaw tightened.

"To be what?" Lunar pressed.

Kaelen looked at her for a long moment. Then he set her foot down gently, straightened, and said, "To be mine."

He turned and walked to the window, staring out into the darkness.

Lunar sat on the blanket, her heart pounding, her feet stinging, and watched him.

To be mine.

The words echoed in her head, over and over, until she wasn't sure if she was more terrified of him or of the part of her that wanted, desperately, to believe him.

"Kaelen," she said quietly.

He didn't turn. "What?"

"What happens now? We can't—we can't just run forever. They're going to keep hunting us. They're never going to stop."

Kaelen was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough, like he was speaking more to himself than to her.

"Then we stop running." He turned to face her, and the firelight caught his eyes, turning them to molten gold. "We stop running, and we fight."

"Fight? Against the whole coven? Against both packs? Against—"

"Against everyone," Kaelen said. "Against the world, if that's what it takes. I told you, little witch. I'd burn the whole world for you."

Lunar stared at him. The fire crackled. The wind howled outside the cabin.

And somewhere, deep in the darkness, something black and hungry began to move.

It had found their trail.

*

Lunar didn't sleep that night.

She lay on the blanket by the fire, listening to Kaelen's breathing—slow, steady, the breathing of a man who could fall asleep anywhere, even with the world hunting him. She, by contrast, was wired tight, her heart racing, her mind churning.

She'd left the only home she'd ever known. She'd left the life she'd been born for. She'd left everything.

And she had no idea what came next.

"Can't sleep?" Kaelen's voice was rough with sleep.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?"

"No." He shifted, propping himself on one elbow, his golden eyes catching the firelight. "What's on your mind?"

"Everything." Lunar's voice was quiet. "I keep thinking about the temple. About the priestesses. About the life I left behind."

"Are you sorry you left?"

Lunar was quiet for a long moment. Then she said, "I'm not sorry I'm free. I'm just—I don't know what to do with freedom. I've never had it before."

Kaelen was silent. Then he sat up, moving to sit beside her.

"Freedom's simple, little witch," he said. "It's just one choice after another. You wake up, and you choose. You eat, and you choose. You walk, and you choose." He looked at her. "You're already doing it. You just don't recognize it yet."

Lunar looked at him. The firelight caught his face, softening the hard lines, and she felt something warm bloom in her chest.

"You make it sound easy," she said.

"It's not easy. But it's simple." He reached out, tucking a strand of silver hair behind her ear. "And you're not alone in it. Whatever choices you make, I'll be right there, making them with you."

Lunar felt the tears sting her eyes. "Why? Why do you keep—why do you care so much?"

Kaelen looked at her for a long moment. Then he said, "Because I've spent my whole life being the Alpha. Being the strong one. Being the one everyone leaned on. And then the moon told me about you—and for the first time, I understood what it felt like to have someone to lean on."

Lunar stared at him. "You barely know me."

"I know you're brave." His voice was soft. "I know you're kind. I know you talk back to gods and don't cry when you're bleeding. And I know that when I look at you, I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for something I couldn't name."

Lunar's breath caught. "Kaelen—"

"Sleep," he said gently. "We have a long road ahead."

He lay back down, but he left his hand outstretched, palm up, waiting.

Lunar looked at his hand for a long moment. Then, slowly, she reached out and took it.

His fingers closed around hers, warm and sure, and for the first time since she'd fled the temple, Lunar slept.

*