Page 108 of Scarred Savages
Something warm flares in my chest at her expression. “Good?”
“Amazing.” She wipes her chin with the back of her hand. “Can we get more?”
“We can get whatever you want.”
After we’ve loaded up on fresh produce, we pass a small boutique. Luna pauses, her attention caught by something in the window. A simple but elegant dress in a deep purple that would perfectly complement her silver hair.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
She startles, as if caught doing something wrong. “Oh, I was just looking. It’s pretty.”
I study her face. “Do you want to try it on?”
“I—” She hesitates, then shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. I don’t need new clothes.”
But her eyes linger on the dress, and I make a decision.
“Oli, take these bags to the car,” I hand him our purchases. “Axel, can you go with him?”
Axel raises an eyebrow but nods, herding Oli away despite his protests about missing something fun.
“Come on,” I guide Luna into the boutique with a gentle hand on her lower back.
The saleswoman approaches with a professional smile. “Can I help you find something?”
“The purple dress in the window,” I say. “My girl would like to try it on.”
The saleswoman retrieves the dress and shows us to a fitting room.
“Ethan,” Luna hisses once we’re alone. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you something nice.” I keep my voice casual. “You’re allowed to want things, Luna.”
Her eyes meet mine, vulnerable and uncertain. “I’ll look stupid.”
“Impossible.”
After hesitating, she takes the dress and disappears into the fitting room. I wait, scrolling through security updates on myphone, while part of my mind remains hyper aware of her presence just feet away.
The curtain slides open, and I look up.
My breath catches.
The dress is simple—a summer sundress with thin straps and a flowing skirt that ends just above her knees. The purple fabric makes her skin glow and her silver hair shine. And yes, the scars on her legs are visible, pale lines that tell her story of survival.
But it’s her face that stops me cold. Uncertainty, hope, and something like defiance all mixed.
“Well?” she asks, voice small.
“Beautiful,” I say, and I mean it.
A blush spreads across her cheeks. “Really?”
“Really.”
She turns to look in the mirror, smoothing her hands over the fabric. “It feels… nice.”
“We’ll take it,” I tell the hovering saleswoman. When Luna protests, I add, “Consider it a lake housewarming gift.”
