“This kid isn’t light, y’know…” Edric grumbled, readjusting the sleeping Damian on his back.

  “You’re the one who insisted on carrying him,” I pointed out as I stepped over a thick tree root. “You could’ve let Sacer or I do it,”

  “Yeah, well… I figured you’d rather not, considering how badly he tore up that old guy.” Edric huffed, shifting his grip on the boy's legs. “That’s not even mentioning that Sacer looks like he’s one wrong word away from snapping someone’s neck”

  Sacer didn’t respond. He walked a few paces ahead, his back rigid. He hadn’t said much since we fled the village, but the tension oozing off of him was enough to keep even Edric’s teasing mostly at bay.

  “I just want answers,” he muttered finally. “Those guys knew something, and refused to tell me.”

  “Of course they did,” I stated flatly. “I said it before, I don’t trust the Royal’s as far as I can throw them.”

  Silence.

  The only sounds were our footsteps and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees. I looked at Damian’s face, his features calm in sleep, completely different from how he had looked earlier.

  I turned back to my brother and reached out, touching his arm. “Sacer,”

  He exhaled sharply, shaking me off. “Not now.”

  Eventually, we found a clearing and set up camp for the night. Edric sat Damian down against a log, rolling his shoulders with a groan. “If I wake up with a sore back, I’m blaming both of you.”

  “Right,” I said dryly before kneeling beside Damian. Now that I was seeing him up close in the firelight, I noticed just how frail the boy really was beneath the baggy rags he was wearing. His sleeves were pushed up slightly, and what I saw made my stomach twist.

  Scars.

  Deliberate, cruel scars. Incisions running along his forearms, raised lines of old wounds that had never been properly treated. I hesitated before pulling the fabric of his shirt up slightly, my breath catching at the sight of his torso.

  Surgical scars criss crossed his chest and stomach. While some were neat, the others were jagged, as if they’d been opened and closed again a multitude of times. A long, thin line ran from his collarbone down to his hip.

  Sacer knelt next to me, his expression solemn. He reached out, pressing the back of his hands gently against the boy's forehead. “He’s running a fever.”

  I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. “How the hell could someone do this to him?”

  Sacer didn’t answer right away. His golden eyes were sharp, scanning Damian’s face for any sign of consciousness. “First priority should be to bring his fever down,” he said instead. “If it gets worse-”

  “I know,” I muttered. I stood, shrugging off my cloak and draping it over Damian’s sleeping body. The firelight flickered across his pale, malnourished body, and my stomach began to twist. Whoever had done this had done more than just torture. They were experimenting on him.

  Edric, breaking the tension in the air, ran a hand through his hair and let out a slow breath. “I’ll uh, go get more firewood,” he said, stepping away from the camp.

  Sacer pressed his lips together. “He needs water, too. I think we passed a stream-”

  “I’ll go.” I turned on my heel before he could argue. I needed air. I needed to clear my head.

  The forest was eerily quiet as I made my way toward the water. No rustling of leaves. No chirping of insects. Just the sound of my own breathing.

  I crouched at the water's edge, taking in a deep breath as I pulled a waterskin from my pockets. While my hands happened to be steady, my thoughts weren’t. The scars on his body, the way he killed that knight in the village, the weight of whatever the hell happened to him… it stuck to me. Festering like a wound.

  You pity him.

  The voice slithered through my mind like a snake. Slow. Methodical. Why?

  I froze, my fingers gripping tightly onto the waterskin. I hadn’t heard his voice since Draemoor. Three months of silence, of praying- hoping, that maybe, just maybe, he was gone.

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  I swallowed down the instinctive panic forming in my throat. You’re talking again.

  Did you think I wouldn’t? His tone was almost amused. Did you miss me?

  No.

  Liar.

  My grip on the waterskin was so tight I thought it might burst. I forced myself to breathe, dunking it under the water. What do you want?

  Damon hummed in the back of my mind, as if considering the question. I could ask you the same thing. You’re the one helping a damaged boy. Why? Because he reminds you of yourself? Because you hope he can be fixed?

  I shut my eyes, pressing my knuckles against my forehead as if that would drive him out. He was inside me, woven into my very being.

  A chuckle rang throughout my skull. Hope is a dangerous thing, you know? It’s what got you in this whole mess in the first place, isn’t it?

  I gritted my teeth. Quiet.

  Damon sighed. You know, Luca, what I really want is for you to just accept the truth.

  I’m nothing like you!

  Oh? He hummed. Then tell me, Luca, how many burned in Draemoor?

  My heart stopped. Shut up.

  That many, huh? Damon purred. I wonder how long they screamed.

  I said shut up.

  Did they beg? His voice turned almost gentle. Did they plead for mercy? Hoping for someone to save them?

  I slammed my fists into the ground. “Shut up!” I heaved, my eyes shut tight as my fingers curled into my fists. My fingers bit into my palms, grounding me, tethering me to this world.

  Draemoor was an accident. I know that. Sacer said Marei even knows that. It was just a loss of control. I hadn’t meant to kill anyone. I didn’t want to kill anyone.

  Damon let the silence stretch before he spoke again, his voice a slow, dark whisper. It felt good, didn’t it?

  I forced my breathing to steady, forcing the thoughts to be quiet, the guilt back where I buried it. I am not you.

  No response.

  For a split second, I thought he was gone, but then he spoke- quieter, colder. Keep telling yourself that.

  I filled the waterskin, capped it, and stood. The water rippled, causing my reflection to distort in the moonlight. Red eyes stared back at me.

  Mine.

  Not his.

  As I returned back to camp, I knew something was wrong before I even saw it. Sacer was kneeling beside Damian, his brows furrowed as he tried to heal the boy. But Damian-

  Damian was awake.

  Terrified.

  His wide, red eyes darted frantically between Sacer and I, his frail body shaking underneath the cloak I’d covered him with.

  Sacer lifted his hands slightly, palms open. “Hey,” he said, voice steady. “You’re safe.”

  He jerked away from Sacer, scrambling backward in the dirt. He barely made it a few feet before collapsing onto his behind. ‘D-d-don’t-” His voice cracked.

  My brother frowned. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Damian’s gaze flicked to me, desperate and begging for help.

  Then it hit me.

  He was scared of Sacer. I felt my stomach drop. Of course. The white hair and golden eyes- he recognized them. Knew what they meant.

  Knew who Sacer was, or at least who he thought he was.

  I stepped forward slowly, hands raising. “No one’s going to hurt you, Damian.”

  Behind me, Sacer shifted back to give us space. “Does he think I’m-”

  “Yes.” I said before he could finish.

  Sacer sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Of course he does.”

  I crouched, getting down to Damian’s eye level. “Sacer isn’t like the one’s you know. I know what you’re thinking, but he’s not here to hurt you.”

  His gaze flicked between us, his hands shaking at his sides. “He’s.. he’s the H-hero…”

  The word was so quiet, yet the weight it carried was groundbreaking.

  Sacer stayed silent.

  I held Damian’s gaze. ‘He is, but he’s also my brother. He’s here because he wants to help you.”

  The boy didn’t move, didn’t respond. His body was tense, every muscle twitching as if he was waiting- waiting for us to pounce.

  “Look, I know you have no reason to trust us. I won’t ask you to. But at least give us a chance.”

  Damian gave a small nod.

  I exhaled, only now realizing how tight I’d been wound. “Okay, that’s good.”

  Edric returned from getting firewood, his usual easy going grin plastered on his face.

  “Damian,” Sacer said, his voice calm. “Can you tell us what exactly happened to you?”

  Damian tensed, his fingers curling against the fabric of my cloak.

  “You don’t have to!” I said quickly. “If you’re not ready-”

  He took a shaky breath. “I… I don’t know where to start.”

  Edric sat down beside him, crossing his arms over his knees. “How about the beginning?”

  Damian swallowed. His fingers clenched tighter. I honestly thought he’d shut down again.

  Then, finally, he spoke. The story he told was something I never could have prepared for.