The branch snapped.
Aerion's ears flicked. He went utterly still, a statue of gold and shadow. Even the forest seemed to obey him—leaves froze mid-rustle, and the insects went silent beneath the Moon Goddess's silver gaze.
In a single, liquid motion, he dropped from the height. He didn't fall; he descended, landing soundlessly among the gnarled roots. Not a leaf stirred beneath his boots. His senses flared, expanding until the forest was a map of biology.
Heat.
Heartbeat.
Fear.
It wasn't the scent of prey. Not yet. It was the scent of a cornered animal realizing the cage was closing. A slow, genuine smile curved his lips.
"You're adapting," he murmured to the darkness. His voice was light, almost proud. "Good."
This forest was ancient, layered with the divine breath of the Moon Goddess. By all rights, these woods should have swallowed her whole, shielding their daughter from his sight. But Aerion walked through the wards untouched. He was not merely hunting a girl; he was hunting a future he intended to own.
He knelt, his fingers brushing the air where her magic still clung like morning dew. The scales along his arm glowed faintly as he "tasted" the residue.
Lunar. Defiant. Unbroken.
"Run as far as you like, Luna," he said softly, his voice carrying through the trees like a secret. "The world is very small to those of us born before it."
Luna (P.O.V)
I pressed myself deeper into the hollow between root and stone, the damp earth soaking into my tunic. Shadow energy coiled tight around my skin, a cold, oily film that made my teeth chatter. I forced my breath into a slow, agonizing rhythm.
Become the dark. Become the stone.
My heart thundered in my ears, a frantic drumbeat I was sure he could hear from a mile away.
Then, his voice slipped through the night—silk and smoke.
"I hear you."
My blood turned to ice.
"You're concealing yourself," he said, his tone conversational, as if we were back in the palace gardens. "A clever trick. But I know exactly where you are."
Shadow energy, I felt his thoughts brush against the edge of my mind, intrigued and predatory. No wonder you ran.
I felt him move before I saw him. He didn't walk; he glided, the forest itself seeming to part to avoid his touch. The air began to reek—not of smoke, but of my own sharp, metallic fear.
I clenched my fists, the shadow energy stinging my palms. I needed a second. Just one second of hesitation.
I summoned everything I had left. With a gut-wrenching pull at my navel, a clone tore free from me—a perfect, flickering silhouette. It bolted in the opposite direction, its footsteps loud and desperate, branches cracking in its wake.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Please. Just once, let him be wrong.
Aerion turned. He watched the decoy dart through the undergrowth, his head tilting like a curious bird watching a moth. Then, a sound broke the silence.
A laugh. Soft, sweet, and utterly knowing.
"Ah," he murmured. "A decoy."
His golden eyes never drifted toward the noise. They stayed locked on the exact shadow where I hid, trembling despite every ounce of my will.
"I do admire your spirit," he whispered, his voice sliding through the trees. "But shadows have weight, little princess…"
A flick of his tail—a blur of gold.
A streak of blue flame arced across the forest floor. There was no explosion, only a muffled hiss of smoldering mist as the clone was erased from existence.
"…and yours trembles."
The hope I had been clinging to vanished. I watched the smoke rise where my double had been. He stepped forward, his boots silent on the moss. Each step was measured, a deliberate countdown to my end. I could feel his gaze stripping away my hiding place like bark from a wounded tree.
"Now only one shadow remains," Aerion said quietly.
He stopped. He was so close I could feel the unnatural heat radiating from his skin, clashing with the cold damp of my hiding spot.
"The one that smells of fear," he whispered, leaning down. "And royalty."
The shadows around me quivered, thinning out as my concentration broke. I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached.
No surrender.
Even if my knees shook. Even if my magic felt like ash in my veins. I was still Luna of the fallen crown, and I would not be caught like a rabbit in a snare. I gripped the dirt, preparing for one last, desperate strike.