Page 150 of The Moonborn's Curse

Seren's brain scrambled, the adrenaline still flooding her bloodstream. Her heart pounded against her ribs, unsure whether it was from fear, relief, or fury.

"You idiot," she breathed, shoving the baton back into its compact form with a metallic snap. "You absolute, silent, stalking idiot."

He still didn't speak.

And that just made her angrier.

"I could've cracked your skull open! Do you know how close I came to shattering your knee?!"

Nothing. Just those wide brown eyes, blinking slowly like the world was too loud, too fast.

She shoved off him and stood, hands on hips, breathing hard.

"Still not a talker, huh? Fine. We will do this my way."

She grabbed his hoodie sleeve and yanked.

"Gods, you stink," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"Get up. You're coming with me."

Back at the flat, she sat him down on the couch. It creaked under his weight as if letting out a dying breath. Seren closed the door behind them. The place was quiet. The girls weren't back.

"What's your name?" she asked softly.

He blinked.

Hesitated.

He sat hunched on the edge of the couch, fingers clenched in the too-short sleeves of the borrowed hoodie. Hair tangled, skin pale under the grime. He hadn't spoken a word yet.

But now... something shifted.

He looked up at her—eyes uncertain as if speaking might break the fragile moment.

Then, in a voice like a rusty wheel turning,

"...Threk*"

His voice came out slow. Heavy and deep. Like it had been buried deep and forgotten.

Seren blinked. "Your name?"

He nodded once. A short, jerky motion.

"Threk," he repeated, quieter. More sure this time. The 'r' caught in the back of his throat.

She crouched in front of him, arms resting on her knees, her voice soft. "Why were you following me?"

It took a long while before he answered.

"I... saw. Car. That day. Followed."

His words came like drops from a leaking faucet. One. Pause. Two. Pause.

"Ran. Hid. Too tired."

A swallow. His throat clicked.

---