Page 96 of A Hunter for Luna

I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. How could I tell her of the doubts that plagued me, the fear that she might be just another betrayal waiting to happen?

"I'm just tired, and in a small bit of pain." I looked at the flickering flames. "It's been a long day."

Luna squeezed my hand, her touch gentle yet firm. "You don't have to carry this burden alone, you know. I'm here for you, no matter what."

I looked at her then, really looked at her. In the dancing firelight, her auburn hair seemed to glow, a halo of warmth around her face. Her eyes held a depth of understanding, a promise of unwavering support.

I had to make a choice - to let Luna in, or to push her away. As I sat there, her hand in mine, I realized that while I wanted to choose her.

Even though wariness of those I loved had preserved my life so many times.

CHAPTER THIRTY

LUNA

I stirredthe embers of our campfire as the pale purple of earliest dawn touched the sky.

Benedetto limped to his horse, favoring his bitten leg. I watched as he put the pad on, then heaved the saddle up, wincing as he had to put weight on the bad leg.

Beads of sweat stood out on his temples as he continued putting the tack on his stallion, who danced from food to foot nervously.

"We need to get moving," he said curtly. "We've already lost too much time."

Rising to my feet, I glanced at his swollen leg. "You shouldn't be riding yet. You can barely stand."

He tightened the girth, his jaw clenched in determination.

Why had he been pushing himself like this? A surge of worry rose in me. He had been acting like he was running out of time. But why?

It should have taken us four weeks to get here, rather than three. At this pace, he’d told me it would be four days before we arrived at the pass.

Benedetto swung himself up onto his horse with a grimace, pain etched on his face.

"I'm fine," he said. "We need to reach the pass before nightfall. Saddle your horse."

I stood and crossed my arms. "No, you're not fine. You're being reckless."

He had never listened to me before. Why would he start now? He'd been determined to do everything on his own, no matter the cost.

My gelding cooperated for once and I was in the saddle in a few moments, watching as Benedetto winced with every stride of his mount. We rode for an hour before he slumped in the saddle, his face pale and covered in a sheen of sweat. I quickly dismounted, looped the reins on a branch and rushed to his side as he swayed.

"Bene, stop." I grabbed his arm to steady him. “Let me look at your leg.”

He groaned and slid off the horse with a painful grunt. "Damn it. We can't afford to stop now."

This wasn't just stubbornness then. He had been genuinely afraid of losing time. But why? What had he not told me? Why wasn’t he trusting me on this trek?

Hobbling, Benedetto took the few steps to a large oak tree nearby and sat down with a wince. After making sure the horses were tied, I pulled out the bandages and medicinal herbs, my hands moved quickly as I assessed the wound.

Swollen enough to make rolling his trouser leg up difficult, the skin around the bandage felt hot to the touch.

"You need to rest." I dribbled water on the old bandage to loosen it before changing it. "If we don't treat this properly, it will get worse."

Benedetto glared at me, his temper flaring. "I wouldn't have gotten the injury in the first place if you hadn't needed protecting," he said.

His words stung like a slap.

I fought back the urge to recoil.

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