Chapter 102
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Chapter 102
LUNA AQUAMARINE’S POV
I kept banging on door.
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My hands already ached from yanking at the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge no matter how hard I twisted.
“Come on,” I hissed under my breath.
Groaning, I pressed my shoulder into the door, then scoffed and stepped back. Maybe I should just kick it down.
I positioned myself a few steps away, braced, and charged forward—
“Stop.”
I froze.
The voice took me off guard.
“Don’t do that, you will just end up breaking your legs you know?”
I recognised the voice.
“Clifford?” My voice cracked as I spun around.
Oh no.
My eyes widened and my heart skipped a beat. “What- are you still doing here?”
He raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “Hiding?”
“This is trouble.” The words tumbled out as I rubbed my temple. “Oh, this is bad.”
My heart was still racing from the argument that I had just had with Alexander.
And now this? I felt like a bright light from above would shine down on me and take me away. He must have heard my conversation with Alexander.
He didn’t move. Just studied me.
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“Alexander might come back in the morning,” I muttered, pacing. “If he sees you here-”
“I know. But calm down, you’re turning red again.” His tone was too steady, too
calm.
“Calm down? How can I calm down when you’re locked in here with me?” I snapped, pointing at him. “If the guards hear us, they’ll start talking. You had no reason to hide, Clifford.”
He shrugged. “Nobody complained when I came in yesterday.”
True but it didn’t feel right. It’s almost evening.
“There’ll be more rumors, Clifford,” I pressed, my hands clenching at my sides. “I can’t handle another one right now. What if the guards realize you came in but never left?”
“They won’t find out if you keep banging in the door and shouting,” he stated.
I took a deep breath and moved away from the door. My hands were still trembling, but I didn’t even know why.
Was it Alexander? The memory of what he did the last time he locked me up himself? Had I not healed from that yet? Had I not really moved on?
This time I wasn’t alone. Clifford was here.
The room felt smaller with just the two of us.
I had never been alone with him before. Not even in Moonstone. We’d barely spoken back then. He would rather just trail behind in the woods when Clinton snuck to meet me, glaring at me as if I was the one who forced him out.
Now he was looking around my room like he had never seen it before. He moved to the books which were scattered all over on my desk. Opening them one after the other and nodding his head as if he understood whatever was inside.
My stomach churned. “Don’t-“I blurted, moving quickly across the room.
Clifford looked back. “What?”
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I shoved the book shut with my palm before his hand touched it, forcing a thin smile. My pulse raced, panic scraping inside my chest. “Not that one.”
His eyes narrowed, “Diary?”
“Yes,” I snapped, dragging the book toward me with too much force.
That was close, if I didn’t stop him on time he would have touched the Book of
Ashes.
The least thing I wanted to happen was for him to ask questions about it when it burns him. How would I answer that?
He nodded and kept looking around. My stomach made a loud growling sound.
My eyes widened and heat shot up my neck as I pressed my hand against it, fully embarrassed.
I hadn’t eaten properly since yesterday afternoon. Or was it when Alexander brought food to the room that day?
Clifford stopped and looked at me.
I looked away, cheeks filling with blood, burning intensely.
“When did you last eat?” he asked, his voice low, steady.
It took me a lot to answer him.
“Just a little this morning,” I shrugged like it didn’t matter, but my stomach betrayed me and instantly growled again.
He reached into a small leather pouch which was hanging on his belt. He pulled out some strips of dried meat and then held them out to me. “Here.”
I hesitated. My fingers twitched toward it before I curled them back. Then I shook my head, “I can’t take your food.”
“You are hungry,” he pointed out, eyes steady, unyielding, and then held it out to me again. “Take it.”
I took a piece and bit into it. The salt burned my tongue, the toughness aching my
Chapter 102
jaw, but still, it tasted better than nothing.
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Clifford sat on the floor near the window and ate some out of his own piece.
We ate in silence.
The only sounds were our chewing and the distant voices of guards outside.
It felt strange sitting here with him like this, as if the world outside didn’t exist, as if we were just two normal people. It was strange to be sharing a meal with him.
“Why are you helping me?” I asked finally, my voice thinner than I intended.
He looked up from his food. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,
why are you even talking to me? We’ve never really talked before.” I twisted the remaining piece of meat in my fingers, rolling it until it nearly tore
apart.
“Alexander,” I paused. “He made you my slave. He took your pack and handed it to me. He might have and might have not killed your family. Aren’t you angry about that?”
Clifford was quiet for a long moment. He bit his meat, finished chewing, and swallowed before answering.
“I am angry,” he said finally, his voice edged, sharp–but not directed at me. “But not at you.”
“But I didn’t stop it.”
He stared at me, eyes heavy, unreadable.
“When Alexander brought you here, I should have protested more,” I muttered, guilt pulling my shoulders down.
He agreed with a nod. “But would he have listened?”
I thought about it.
Alexander never listened to me about anything important.
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“No. Probably not.”
“Then what was the point?”
His words made sense.
But they didn’t make me feel less guilty.
He went back to eating.
“Still. I could have tried.”
“Maybe.”
He leaned back against the wall, exhaling slowly, shoulders easing.
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“But you didn’t ask for this either.” His face suddenly twisted in disgust. “Besides, I prefer my pack to be in your hands than in the hands of those wolves. How shameless can they be? Demanding for what wasn’t given to them.”
But that still didn’t make me feel any better about it now.
“So why help me now?” I asked again, the words barely above a whisper. “With Fiona? With anything?”
Clifford looked out the window. “Fiona isn’t who you think she is.”
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