The setting sun illuminated the forest, casting long, twisted shadows between the trees. Moon walked with silent steps, her heart beating at a fast pace.

Even though she was a little angry with him for his bad behavior towards her brother, Moon couldn’t leave him at the mercy of Will’s frustrations.

As they approached the place they knew as the Arena, the air seemed thicker, charged with an unsettling energy. Moon stopped in a clearing, where the moonlight reflected off the leaves, creating a spectacle of shadows. And there, in the center of the clearing, was Griffin, sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree. His face was bruised and his torn shirt showed the signs of a recent fight.

— Griffin! — Moon called out, keeping her voice low and urgent.

He raised his head, his eyes full of pain and confusion.

— Moon? What are you doing here?

— I’ve come to get you out of here… Will tends to overstep limits… — Moon approaches and begins to untie him. — When we get to my place, I’ll ask Gun to take care of your wounds… I heard he perfected this power while I was away…

— And he’d do it for me?

— You let Will do all that to you for him… I don’t think he’ll mind helping you…

As she helped Griffin to his feet, a noise cut through the silence of the forest. Moon stopped, her senses sharpened. A wry smile appeared on her lips.

— Ah, Will… I told you that if you messed with one of my people, I wouldn’t be quiet.

Will emerged from the shadows, his eyes shining with an inhuman coldness. He had the presence of a predator, and the confidence he exuded made Moon’s heart race.

— He’s not your toy, Will. You can’t just hurt him and expect everyone to accept it, just because you don’t know how to deal with your past. You know, Will, therapy solves that.

— Josiah left him in my hands.

— And I’m taking it away.

— You’ll regret it.

— Okay. We’ll see. — she turned and put one of Griffin’s arms around her shoulder, holding her waist and supporting her as they left the clearing.

The walk back was silent.

Griffin didn’t know what to say. Neither did Moon.

Griffin could only think of Gunner. Ada was right. He could reject and end it all, or accept and perhaps, like all the other people who stay with their mates, be happy. His thoughts, however, were completely interrupted when Moon told him to look somewhere far away.

A small hut, with its almost yellowish white paintwork, had its front door open, where the small veranda had a cozy dark green sofa on which you could lazily enjoy the evening breeze.

Gunner was there, sitting on the sofa, looking down at his feet,

— You two need to talk… Regardless of how this turns out for you… — Moon said, gesturing for Griffin to walk. — He’s going to help you with your wounds… I hope you sort yourselves out. But if you don’t, go to my house. I’ll find you a place to stay.

— Thank you.

Moon nods, leaving Griffin to walk alone to the hut.

Griffin watches her go and stands still for a few minutes, thinking. He looks out onto the balcony and notices Gunner watching him. The younger man looked apprehensive, afraid.

Slowly, he took the first step and realized how easy it was to get close to him. He stopped in front of the younger man, and just as he plucked up the courage to speak, he was interrupted by Gunner, now on his feet.

— Let’s go. We need to take care of your injuries…

— Hm… — Griffin followed him inside. — Is this Ace’s house?

— Yeah… Sit on the sofa. — Gunner went into one of the bedrooms and came back out holding a first-aid kit and a gray briefcase.

Griffin sat down sideways and then Gunner did the same, facing him. In silence, Gunner worked with precision as he cleaned Griffin’s wounds. He took bottles of every possible size, with strange liquids and ointments.

Griffin felt a wave of embarrassment run through his body, not only at the pain but also at what he was about to say. Facing Gunner made him realize that he would have to change a lot to move this relationship forward.

— I’m sorry for the way I acted before… — said Griffin in a low voice, almost a whisper. — I was… rude. Pretty rude to you, when you didn’t do anything wrong…

Gunner didn’t raise his eyes, but there was a slight pause in his movement as if he had listened carefully. He continued to clean the wounds, his brows furrowed in concentration.

— It’s ok. I understand. — replied Gunner, his voice deep but serene. He wasn’t one for words, but each syllable seemed to weigh on the air. — It can’t be easy for you… Being destined for another man…

— It’s not… But there must be a reason why it’s you…

Griffin watched him in silence for a moment, absorbing his details. The younger man had a gentle appearance, with almost angelic features. His hair was dark brown, a little messy, falling over his forehead in an unassuming way. As Gunner leaned closer to adjust the bandage on his arm, Griffin noticed the long eyelashes that shaded Gunner’s light brown eyes, eyes that shone with a mixture of calm and concentration.

Something was comforting in that softness. Something that made Griffin feel vulnerable in an unexpected way. He couldn’t take his eyes off Gunner. Something about the way he moved, the softness in his expressions, and the careful attention to every detail fascinated him.

As Gunner applied the final bandage, Griffin felt a strange mixture of relief and frustration. He wanted to say thank you, but something about Gunner’s calmness disarmed him. He was drawn to that tranquility, that silent strength.

— Thank you… — Griffin murmured, his voice lower than he had intended.

— There you go. — Gunner said, stepping back a little, satisfied with the job. — You’ll be fine.

Griffin just nodded, his eyes resting briefly on Gunner’s. The moment was short but charged with something deeper. Griffin felt the heat rise through his body, surprised by the intensity of what he was beginning to feel.

— I once heard that communication is the key to all relationships. — Gunner said, ignoring his partner’s strange expression. — Instead of running away, watching me from afar, and then suddenly showing up and acting possessive, I need you to talk to me.

Griffin nodded.

— What do you want to do? — Griffin asked, his voice lower than usual as if somewhere deep down he felt frightened by the other’s choice. — Make a decision. Whatever you choose, I accept…

— Weren’t you the one who wanted to decide everything?

— I’m sure you’ll make the right choice. — Griffin leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes but keeping his hands on Gunner’s knees. His body was warm. — I’m tired… So choose. Will we get married, like my family proposed?

— Marry? Are you crazy? This is the first time we’ve had a decent conversation… — Gunner couldn’t believe his ears. — Marry a brute like you? We know nothing about each other…

— Then what? An official rejection? If that’s it, then at least let me recover my energy a bit before I leave this place…

— I never said that either… — Gunner whispered angrily, turning his face to stare at some point on the wall. He couldn’t think about rejection.

— I told you, kiddo, it’s up to you. What’s your choice?

Griffin stared intensely at Gunner, who was speechless and shy.

— I don’t know… — he muttered. — And stop calling me a kid. I’m not a kid.

— You’re much younger than me.

— That still doesn’t make me a kid, you old man.

Griffin pinched his thigh.

— Call me old once more… — Griffin threatened. — Before you think about marriage… we could try dating.

— Dating?

Since leaving Berkshire, Moon had been a light sleeper at night, occasionally waking up to the softest sounds, like water dripping from the sink or even the leaves rustling outside his cottage.

Moon had her back to the window. She kept looking at the shadows on the wall in front of her, as the tree danced in the wind. She sighed softly covering her face, remembering how earlier Gray had heard her admit that his return had been good, screaming inside as a part of her was slowly melting at his mere presence.

Her eyes opened immediately as she felt the other side of the bed sinks in, the ever-so-strong scent of cinnamon filling her lungs.

— I hated floral smells. — Gray’s voice was a little hoarse. — After you left, I looked for lavender everywhere… My house is now full of it…

— Lavender? — she asked, still on her back.

— Yes… But it suits you.

Silence enveloped them again, bringing them to a state of reflection as they remembered the long road that had brought them to where they were now.

— Aren’t you going to turn around and look at me? — Gray asked as he moved to her side, watching her, standing still in her place. He longed to touch her, even slightly, but he held back, trying not to upset her even more. — Why did you leave?

— If I tell you, I feel like I’d be giving in… I hate it… — she muttered, only to remember Evanora’s words. With all her courage, which wasn’t much at the moment, she took a deep breath, turned, and faced him. — Because of you.

— I already know that. But why? I don’t remember doing anything to make you leave…

— I lost… — her voice faltered, as memories of Noira came flooding back.

In her mind, she took it for granted that being a witch was the only thing she was good at. Losing Noira was so painful that she felt something inside her die.

Gray reached out slowly to wipe away her tears as she sobbed silently.

— What, exactly, have you lost? Because, as far as I know, nobody died and your life was still the same-

— While I was bringing you back, I lost Noira… and my powers. And now they’re coming back in a way that… I’m afraid it’ll change who I am…

Gray moved closer, opening his arms and pulling her into his embrace. He kept stroking her hair while holding in his feelings and emotions about what she had just told him.