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And she will use him again. Of course she will.
But this time it doesn’t matter.
Because we have Luna.
And Branwen doesn’t.
I should tell him that. Should reach for the steel inside him and help him find the pieces she didn’t manage to fracture. But I’m not built for comfort. I’m not Orin. I don’t hold things. I order them into place.
Still… I feel something tighten in my chest when I look at him.
He hasn’t met my gaze once since he said her name.
“You think she’ll hate you,” I say, not a question. “You think Luna will see what Branwen did to you and think it was your choice.”
His jaw ticks. He doesn’t argue.
“She won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” I say flatly. “Because she’s not Branwen.”
He flinches.
Because we both know Branwen would’ve already buried the knife. Not in his back—no, she prefers the places it hurts more. The ribs. The stomach. Where you can feel it coming out and know exactly what it’s taking with it.
“You survived her,” I say. “That’s all Luna will see.”
“And the rest of you?” he asks, voice rough. “You all gonna be that generous?”
I stare at him. “You were taken. We all know what that means here.”
A long silence unfurls between us. The room smells like smoke and lavender and old magic—like Branwen left her breath in the walls and it’s still whispering.
He nods, eventually. But there’s no conviction in it. Just the act of going through the motion. So I don’t push. I don’t need him to believe it yet.
He will. When Luna touches him again. When he sees what it looks like to be wantedwithout being owned.
“We need to find Orin,” I say, turning toward the door. “If Branwen’s started bleeding into the outer paths again, we won’t have long.”
Caspian doesn’t ask how I know that.
He just follows, quiet, still frayed at the edges. But there’s something steadier in his gait now. Like even if he hasn’t stitched himself back together, he knows he’s not alone in the ruin.
I don’t look back.
But I feel him walking behind me.
Alive.
Still Lust.
Still ours.
“I’ll keep her from you,” Caspian says, and his voice is quiet. Like he doesn’t need me to hear it.
But I do.