Luna Moonbeam

and certainty. But tonight, beneath the silver glow of th

h o

hed at her sides, wanting to reach for the dagger strapped to her thigh, a warrior's instin

ite cloak was stained with dirt and blood, his hair tousled from the long battles,

n't entirely

red, his voice smooth yet ed

led into a smir

nted to smile but refused to l

aid it, low and slow, sent an un

gerous. He w

ay. Instead, she t

ieter now, "if things were differ

ngs were different, I wouldn't have spent

his words, but there

ity. L

felt

ding here, staring into his piercing blue eyes, all she could see was a man-a

smoke of distant fires. The war was still out there, still wa

the faint scar running along his jawline, close enoug

d, his voice almost a whisper. "But I k

wed hard. "

inside him. His hand lifted slightly, fingers brushing against her w

name sounding different o

t they were enemies, that they had a war to fig

she did somet

lar of his cloak an

t. It wasn't gentle. It was years of war, years of longing neither of th

her waist, pulling her against him like he had been

he hatred, the bloodshed. All that rem

lled apart, both of

dn't quite understand, something he wasn't sure h

pite the chaos in

still hated each other. But tonight, un

hey weren'

omething el