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“I can’t get Spotify up here,” she said.

He frowned. “What?”

“I’m not going on a hike,alone, with no music to keep me company,” she said, grabbing the backpack and hauling it on. “We can get the flower once you’re healed. Come on.”

She held out a hand.

He stared at it. “There is no way you can lift me.”

“Then help me out!” She slapped his shoulder.

He huffed a pained laugh. Then he reached back,pushing himself up on the tree behind him. At Luna’s urging, he slung a toned arm around her shoulders. Luna ignored the bond singing in satisfaction inside her chest and took a step.

He stepped with her, face tight with pain.

“You have to lean on me,” she told him.

He rolled his eyes and muttered something about flattening her. But he leaned harder, Luna grunting under his weight as they shuffled forward another step.

“There,” she said, panting. “Better.”

It took forty minutes of slow, painstaking shuffling to reach the cave. It was further off the path than Luna expected—she couldn’t even see the path from its entrance—but Oliver assured her that his family would be able to smell them easily if they walked up the path.

He unzipped the backpack, ready to lay out the blankets before Luna swatted him aside and took the blankets out of his hands.

“Let the girl with two functioning legs do it,” she said, standing up and snapping the blankets out, letting them drift onto the thankfully dry ground.

Oliver shuffled onto them. He reached for the backpack again, this time pulling out a bag of snacks.

“Lot of time to kill waiting for that to go down,” Luna said, nodding at his swollen ankle. “And I can’t answer all the work emails that are definitely piling up. I have this pottery company in London that seems eager for a newsletter swap. I think they’d be reallygood for… Anyway. Want to play I Spy? I spy something… green.”

“Tree,” Oliver said, not looking up.

Luna gasped. “Oh my gosh, youdidit.”

Oliver handed her a juice box and several strips of jerky.

Luna blinked at them, weirdly charmed. “Thanks.”

“Thanks for the blankets,” he replied, leaning up against the cave wall. He bit into his own strip of jerky, chewing loudly. “Well, thanks to me for bringing them. Thanks for taking two seconds to lay them out.”

Luna rolled her eyes. She bit into her jerky, picturing him here with his family. Dealing out juice boxes, orange slices, jerky, trail mix, and everything else she’d glimpsed in that snack bag he was pushing back into the backpack for later. Showing them how to identify bugs, which he’d started talking to Luna about before she threatened to push him off the mountain. Maybe teaching them how to light a fire. He took care of his pack. She had to give him that. He was gruff and growly, and he didn’t let anyone in, even the people he was closest to. But he took care of them.

Luna sipped her juice box, trying to quell the fluttering in her stomach. It had nothing to do with the bond—she just couldn’t remember the last person who made her feel cared for.

“So,” she said, settling against the cave wall beside him, their elbows touching. “About that whole… not shifting thing. Is it because of what that woman tried to do?”

He stiffened. “Who told you that?”

“Sabine,” she admitted, putting every inch of casualness she could into the word. Everything was easier to talk about if it wasn’t important. “It’s not a bigdeal. I mean, obviously, it’s a big deal someone tried to kill your family, and now you can’t shift. But like, it’s not a big deal if you tell me about it.”

She took another bite of jerky, chewing through the tough texture. “What am I gonna do about it, right? So, if you want to tell me…”

“Nothing to tell.” He shoved the rest of his food into his shorts pocket, scowling. He looked shaken.

Luna bit her pinkie nail. It was bright blue, thanks to Darren’s efforts two nights ago. It was patchy, but she hadn’t redone it yet. She actually kind of liked looking down and remembering his gap-toothed grin as she let him slide the brush over her nails.

It was going to be a long day. Luna thought about giving up, starting another game of I Spy, or better yet, seeing if they could get physical while not jostling his broken ankle. But something about Oliver made her want to continue. She couldseethis great guy under all his gruff and bluster. She wanted to coax him out. If he snapped at her, who cared? She’d be out of his life soon.