bChapter /bb203 /b

    bApril /bbPOV /b

    bThe /bbair /bis cooler outside than I expect, and it carries with it the faintest scent of pine and damp earth. Damon slows his stride so I bcan /bbkeep /bbup /bwith him. His hands are shoved casually in his pockets as if he has no intention of rushing me.

    I’m grateful for that. The gravel crunches softly beneath our feet as we move down the path that winds behind the guest house.

    It feels strange to be walking like this, unguarded, without the weight of eyes on me from every direction. At Darkmoon I was never btruly /bbfree/b, not bwith /bRnd’s mark still burning inside me and Eryx’s rejection tearing at me. But here, even though I’m still broken, there’s a strange calm. Maybe it’s just Damon.

    “You’re getting color back,” he says suddenly, ncing at me with a half smile. “When you first came here, you looked like you’d been through bhell/bb. /b

    “I had,” I answer quietly. The words slip out before I can stop them.

    His smile falters, but he doesn’t push. That’s one thing I’ve learned about Damon, he never pries. He gives space when I need itb, /bbut he’s always thereb, /bsteady as the ground beneath me.

    We round the bend and the path opens into a small clearing where a wooden table has been set. I blink at it in surprise. A cloth covers the topb, /bbweighed /bdown by a basket, two tes, and the faintest curl of steam rising from the mugs waiting for us.

    “You nned this?” I ask.

    Damon shrugs, feigning nonchnce, though there’s a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. “Figured you’d get tired of eating indoors all the time. Thought ba /bchange of scenery might help.”

    My chest tightens. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet it feels like more than anyone’s done for me in a long time. Eryx once promised me the world, and here’s Damon, offering me a pic. Somehow it cuts deeper than I expect.

    We sit, and Damon pulls open the basket,ying out bread still warm from the oven, slices of roasted meat, and a small dish of berries. My stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten much today, and his grin returns at the sound.

    “See? I knew you’d like it.”

    I pick up a piece of bread and tear into it. The warmth seeps into my hands, the taste filling in the emptiness inside me. “Thank you,” I say after swallowing.

    Damon just nods, chewing a bite of meat. For a while we eat in silence, the quiet broken only by the rustle of leaves overhead and the asional birdcall. It’s peaceful, almost enough to make me forget the ache of everything that came before.

    When the food is mostly gone, Damon reaches back into the basket. My brow furrows as he pulls out a small ibox /iwrapped in simple brown paper. He sets it on the table in front of me.

    “What’s this?” I ask, staring at it like it might vanish.

    “Open it,” he says simply.

    My fingers hesitate before unwrapping the paper. Inside is a silver chain, delicate and fine, with a small charm hanging from the center. bThe /bbcharm /bbis /bshaped like a crescent moon, its surface carved with tiny lines that catch the light.

    I lift it carefully, the weight of it unfamiliar against my skin. “It’s beautiful.” I’ve never really be given a gift before.

    “It was my mother’s,” Damon says, his voice quieter now. “She gave it to me when I was younger, told me to give it to someone I wanted to protectb. /bbI /bbwant /b

    you to have it.”

    The breath catches in my throat. “Damon, I can’t-”

    Chapter b203 /b

    b“/bbYou /bbcan/bb,/bb” /bbhe /bbinterrupts/b, bhis /bgaze steady. “And byou /bwill. Because you and that baby deserve bsomeone /bbwho /bbwon’t /bwalk away, Someone whal bmatter /bbwhat /bbes/bb. /bbThat’s /bwhat bthis /bmeans.”

    Tears sting my beyes /bbefore I can stop them. My hand trembles as I set the ne down, afraid I might drop it. “You don’t have to bdo /bbthis /bTunics bshould /bbe Eryx hereb, /bgiving me something like this. It should be him promising to protect us.”

    His jaw tightens, but his voice stays calm. “Not all men are made to be dads, April. Some runt Some can’t handle it. And maybe that’s for the best- “For the best?” I echo, bitter. “How is it for the best that he left me broken, carrying his child, while I try to pick up the piecesb?/bb” /b

    Damon leans forward, his elbows on the table, his eyes never leaving mine. “Because it left room for someone else to be what you needb. /bbHe /bmade his choice, April. But I’m still here. I’ll always be here.”

    The words dig under my skin, burrowing into the raw ces that still ache for Eryx. I want to scream that it’s not fair, that no matter how steady Damon is, no matter how kind, he’ll never be Eryx. But at the same time, I can’t deny the warmth his promise brings.

    I made him tell Eryx, I begged for him to make Eryx aware I’m pregnant. I hoped it would get some sort of attention or reply. Only Eryx had said he bdidn’t /bcare or need to know. I was foolish to think he would care, and I wanted to fight Damon on it, but then I realised he didn’t tell Eryx to begin bwith /bbto /bprotect me and I forced him to tell Eryx. Which mean he had to give me the bad news.

    I look down at the ne again, the crescent moon glinting in the sunlight, and for a moment I let myself imagine what it would be like to wear it. bTo /bbelong here, to Damon, to a future where I don’t have to fight every day to survive.

    We finish the meal slowly, and when Damon gathers the dishes back into the basket, he doesn’t rush me. He lets me sit there, staring at the ne bin /bmy hand, as though he knows I need time to breathe.

    When we finally start walking back, the chain is looped around my fingers, warm from the sun and from my skin. Damon walks close enough that his shoulder brushes mine every so often, and each time I don’t move away.

    By the time we reach the pack house, I feel different. Not healed, not whole, but steadier. Damon opens the door for me, his smile soft and certain.

    “Keep it,” he says, nodding at the ne still in my hand. “Even if you never wear it. It’ll remind you you’re not alone.”

    And as I step inside, I realize with a jolt that he’s right. I’m not alone. Not anymore.

    But the truth terrifies me. Because the longer I stay here, the more I feel myself slipping away from Eryx and toward Damon.

    And I don’t know if I want to stop.