Page 203 of The Moonborn's Curse

"This is Freya," Dain said quietly, gentleness tucked into the edges of his voice.

Freya dipped her head in greeting, cheeks flushed pink.

Threk raised a hand in a friendly wave, his mouth full. Veyr offered a nod, his expression unreadable.

Behind them, Lía turned away, her cloth pressed too hard against the stone, knuckles white. No one noticed. Except Seren.

They ate in companionable quiet, the clinking of cutlery soft against stoneware, the fire crackling low in the hearth. Conversation ebbed and flowed, easy now that the tension had thinned.

Dain spoke in low tones to Freya, introducing her to Threk and Veyr, his broad shoulders slightly hunched as if to shield her from too much attention. She smiled shyly at the others.

Across the room, Seren caught a flicker of movement—Lía. She was slipping out the door, her cleaning cloth folded tightly in her hands, shoulders hunched, steps quick and quiet. But not quick enough to hide the expression on her face.

It was something far rawer. A wealth of pain hid behind her dull grey eyes.

And for a brief, startling moment, Seren felt a pang of sympathy. She had wanted to see her brought low. But this…

She turned her attention back to her plate, shaking the thought away—only to find Hagan beside her again, sliding a spoonful of wild mushrooms onto her dish with care that felt far too deliberate.

When she looked up with a question in her eyes, his gaze was already waiting.

Warm. Open. Worshipful.

His eyes held the kind of quiet, aching adoration that made her heart stumble. Like she was the only thing in the room worth seeing.

"My moon," he murmured, voice too low for anyone else to hear. Or so they pretended. After all, they were surrounded by wolves.

Her breath hitched, just slightly.

"...Why did you...Dain..." he started.

She didn't answer at first.

"It takes too much energy to stay angry," she said, flicking at a piece of bread crust with the tip of her fork at him.

"But you're still angry with me," he said softly.

She looked at him from beneath her lashes, expression wry.

"That's because you're special. And..." she said softly.

The sarcasm was light but laced with heat.

Then, more firmly—her voice losing its gentleness—"And because you're special, you don't get to coast through whatever this is. No one else mattered the way you did, so you have to earn your wayback. Every damn bit of it. And don't expect me to lay out a welcome mat—I've seen just how many options are out there."

Chapter 76

The morning sunlight dappled the forest floor when they set off toward the border, the path soft underfoot with new spring growth and the mushiness of saturated earth. The air smelled of damp and sap, of life pushing through drought's cruel hold in a bid for freedom. Above them, dark clouds loomed—heavy and slate-coloured, promising more rain before the day was done. The light filtering through was watery and uncertain, casting shifting colourful shadows along the trail as if through a kaleidoscope. It was the kind of morning that straddled two moods: the freshness of spring and the threat of another downpour.

They passed the oracle's cottage, its moss-covered roof nearly invisible in the greening woods. She stood at the edge of the path, waiting and then fell into step beside them, joining the journey.

Around them, the forest stirred. A swallow darted overhead, its wings slicing the air with a sharp slash. A fox froze by a tree root, watching with clever, knowing eyes before slipping soundlessly into the underbrush. Partridges rustled beneath a thicket, quick-winged and wary as if to escape the wolves in the forest. Insects buzzed in lazy spirals through the warming air, and a single honeybee hovered at the lip of a crocus bloom, drunk on nectar and sunlight.

The buds on the trees were tight fists of green, but they would soon burst open. The entire wood was a breath held between seasons, a hum of promise and return.

Everyone turned their heads to take it in—the quiet wonder of it all—but not Seren. She walked with her eyes forward, her face still.This forest no longer stirred awe in her. Or perhaps, it did, but she had no space left inside to feel it.

Seren walked in silence, but inwardly, she was listening. Not to the others, but to the forest itself. Every rustle, every flicker of movement held meaning. The animals had not forgotten her.

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