A Luna in Disguise

Chapter 18

I woke to the taste of ash and the ache of my muscles, every joint stiff from yesterday’s battle. Kael lay beside me, his arm draped across my waist. The war beasts padded quietly around us, lantern light catching their dark fur. My heart fluttered—danger had never felt so safe.

I shifted, careful not to wake him, but his eyes opened. “Morning,” he murmured, voice husky.

“Morning,” I whispered back. The soft curve of his lips, the warmth of his skin under my palm—it grounded me more than the cold ground beneath.

We rose together, moving through the silent camp. Rhea and Riven led the fighters, the torches bobbing ahead like fireflies. Our path wound down rolling hills toward Dawn’s Hollow—the next refuge. Each step was heavy with fatigue, but side by side, we moved with purpose.

Kael’s hand found mine. “You okay?”

I nodded, though the lump in my throat said otherwise. “Just… tired.”

He squeezed my fingers. “We’ll rest once we arrive.”

I swallowed hard. Sleep felt distant now, but I leaned into the promise of reprieve at his side.

The valley air was cool, scented with pine and damp earth. Clouds drifted across the moon, casting shifting shadows that danced over our group. I lagged a step behind Kael, watching how the torchlight flickered on his profile—strong jaw, dark lashes, the faint silver scar at his temple. Each detail burned in my mind.

“Hey,” Kael said, stopping. I turned, breath catching. He reached up, brushing a stray wisp of hair behind my ear. “Lean on me.”

I closed my eyes and pressed against him. He was solid and real, no longer just my protector but my anchor. The ache in my ribs throbbed from yesterday’s clash, so I tilted my head. “My side hurts.”

Without a word, he lifted me into his arms. I gasped at first—my feet lifted off the ground—but his muscles held me easy. The world shifted as he carried me to a fallen oak. Gently, he laid me on a bed of moss, careful as though I were china.

He knelt beside me, unbuckling his cloak. “Let me check it.”

I winced when he peeled back my shirt. His fingers brushed the long scratch where the hound’s claws had cut me. I shivered. He paused, gaze soft. “You’re stronger than steel.”

Heat flared up my neck. I swallowed past the lump. “I’m not as strong as you.”

He pressed a cool cloth to the wound. The contrast of ice and fire stole my breath. “You’re stronger than you know.”

His face hovered close—eyes burning with something unspoken. My pulse thundered. The forest held its breath.

Then, he leaned down slowly. His lips brushed mine—light, tentative—before pulling back. “Later,” he whispered against my mouth.

I nodded, voice a breath. “Later.”

He pressed the cloth in place, then rose and offered his hand. I took it and let him lift me. My heart thrummed with longing and fear. In that fleeting kiss, everything changed.

Rhea’s sharp voice cut through the moment. “Aria! Kael! Move!”

We fell into line, the protective bubble bursting. I trained my gaze back to the trail ahead.

Dawn’s Hollow lay at the valley’s end—a cluster of stone cottages around an ancient well. As we crested the final rise, the glow of lanterns welcomed us. Relief flooded my chest, only to twist when I saw the cottages quiet, doors battered, windows dark.

Riven halted, eyes narrowing. “Something’s wrong.”

My breath caught. The well’s moat was dry. The paths between cottages were littered with overturned barrels and broken carts.

“Council moved in,” Rhea said, voice low. “They’ve cleared this place already.”

Panic surged through me. We’d followed Milo’s lead—and walked into a trap.

Kael pulled me close. “Stay behind me.”

We advanced, hearts pounding. Each cottage held shattered furniture, torn cloth, and the heavy scent of smoke. No bodies—but the silence was more terrifying than death cries.

A distant howl rose—a warning. Council wolves, pacing the ridges around the hollow.

Riven drew his blade. “They’ll wait for reinforcements. We need another plan.”

I swallowed hard. Every ounce of trust and betrayal swirled inside me. We were hunted, betrayed by Milo, yet still alive.

Kael’s hand settled on my back. “I won’t let them take you.”

I met his gaze, raw and open. “I won’t let you go alone.”

He brushed my fingers with his thumb. “We fight together.”

Rhea stepped forward. “We can’t hold this place. We escape downriver to Ember Citadel. It’s hidden, fortified.”

I nodded, trying to steady my breathing. The river route meant more days of travel—and more danger—but it was our only chance.

Rhea turned to two fighters. “Bring up the war beasts. We make for the river at first light. Move quietly.”

Torches flickered as the war beasts—sleek and silent—assembled, nostrils flaring. The spark of their loyalty warmed me. I crouched to stroke one’s flank. Its muzzle was cool, and it exhaled a soft growl. I whispered, “Thank you.”

They lined up beside us, a dark phalanx.

As the first hint of dawn tinted the sky pink, we slipped out of Dawn’s Hollow along the riverbank. Our group pressed close to the reeds, wading in until the water reached our waists. The current tugged at my cloak, chilling every inch of me.

Kael stayed by my side. “Ready?” he asked.

I nodded. “Ready.”

We floated downstream in silence, war beasts at our flanks, the resistance fighters clinging to driftwood rafts. The forest closed behind us, hiding our passage.

The water’s rush was hypnotic, lulling me close to sleep. Kael’s arm wrapped around my shoulders, steady and warm. I leaned into him, lost in the dark comfort of his presence.

Then a crack—like a rifle shot—echoed off the water.

A figure on the bank raised a torch, silhouetted against the dawn. Council soldiers lined the shore, rifles raised.

I froze.

Kael’s hand tightened on mine. “Hold tight.”

A volley sounded, bullets chipping the water around us. The rafts spun. Screams rose.

I hit the riverbank, dragging Aria’s POV: fight or drown.