His Forsaken Luna-Chapter 114: Sweets

The air was crisp as I wrapped my cloak tighter around me, stepping carefully down the narrow path leading away from the palace gates. The evening sky was painted with streaks of amber and violet, the sun dipping below the horizon as shadows lengthened across the snow. Ulfstad wasn’t far, just past the creepy forest, but sneaking out without being noticed was no small feat.

Soren’s shadow fell in step with mine, his presence reassuring and unnerving. He had insisted on coming, claiming he would prove his loyalty. Kharis was on a break when I slipped out, hoping to return before he was aware of my absence.

I wasn’t ’allowed’ to leave the palace on the best of days, but right now, the palace was high with tension about the attacks in and outside the walls.

I’d agreed to stay inside, but I was becoming restless and used this as an excuse to get a little freedom, even if it was for a short time.

"You’re lucky Alaric didn’t see you slip out," Soren murmured, his voice low as he adjusted the sword strapped to his hip. "If he finds out, you’ll hear about it for weeks."

"Then let’s make sure he doesn’t find out," I replied, keeping my voice equally quiet. The snow crunched beneath our boots, muffled yet loud enough to make me glance over my shoulder more often than I’d like. "Besides, the children deserve something normal. Something sweet."

Soren raised an eyebrow, but his expression softened as he looked ahead. "Still a risky move for sweets. Xan will probably just complain about the flavour anyway."

I managed a small smile despite the anxiety curling in my chest. Xan was quite the little man with a big personality. I didn’t know yet what I thought about him. I’d had a few nightmares of the child, but whenever I was with him and the children, I knew they weren’t infected like the others.

Their cheeks were filling out, and they looked healthy. They’d been through so much already; they deserved a little treat. And if a bag of honey cakes or candied nuts could bring even a fleeting moment of joy, it was worth the risk. The streets of Ulfstad would be quiet at this hour, the shops preparing to close, but the sweet shop on the corner always stayed open later than the others.

The forest loomed ahead, the tall, bare trees stretching like skeletal fingers into the dusky sky. I hesitated at the edge of the woods, glancing back toward the faint lights of the palace. For a moment, doubt crept in, but Soren stepped forward, his steady gaze anchoring me.

"We’ll be quick," he said, his tone reassuring. "In and out before anyone knows we’re gone."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, and together we ventured through the forest. The air grew colder beneath the canopy of branches, the last traces of sunlight barely filtering through. My steps faltered when the sounds of the forest—the rustle of leaves, the distant call of an owl—seemed to fade, replaced by an unnatural stillness. Soren must have noticed it, too, because his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his eyes scanning the shadows.

"Too quiet," he muttered under his breath.

"It’s just the cold," I said, more to convince myself than him. "Animals hide away in weather like this."

But the unease didn’t leave me, and I quickened my pace. I’m not sure who I was trying to convince. Soren’s senses were better than mine, and he was a warrior, he had more experience than me.

Relief washed over me when the lights of Ulfstad came into view, the faint glow of lanterns illuminating the snow-dusted cobblestones. The sweet shop was just ahead, its crooked sign swinging gently in the breeze. I pushed open the door, the bell above tinkling softly, and a wave of warmth and the scent of caramel and spices greeted me.

"Evening, Your Highness," the shopkeeper said with a surprised smile, her hands dusted with flour. She was an older woman with kind eyes, and though I hadn’t been here in months, she greeted me as if I were a regular. "Bit late for a visit, isn’t it?"

"A craving struck," I replied, returning her smile as I stepped inside. Soren remained near the door, his stance rigid as he surveyed the quiet street beyond.

I quickly selected a variety of treats: honey cakes, candied nuts, and small pastries filled with jam. The shopkeeper wrapped them carefully, chatting softly about the snowfall and how business had been slow lately. I nodded politely, my mind elsewhere, my heart still pounding about the forest’s silence.

When we finally stepped back outside, the cold air hit me like a slap. The streets were emptier than before, the glow from the lanterns casting long shadows across the snow.

"Let’s move," Soren said, his voice low. "The forest’s no place to linger after dark."

I agreed, falling into step beside him as we retraced our path. The forest seemed even darker now, the trees looming larger, their bare branches creaking in the wind. My grip on the bag tightened as unease coiled in my stomach.

I liked the dark, and I liked this forest but something felt wrong today.

Halfway through the woods, Soren came to an abrupt stop, his arm shooting out to block my path. "Wait."

I froze, my breath catching as I followed his gaze. The silence was deafening, the kind that made your ears strain for any sound, any sign of movement. Then it came—a faint rustling, followed by a low, guttural growl that sent a chill down my spine.

"Stay close," Soren murmured, drawing his sword in one fluid motion. The steel gleamed faintly in the dim light.

We pressed on cautiously, the growls growing louder, more distinct. They weren’t animalistic, not entirely. There was something else in them, something wrong. My heart pounded in my chest as the sounds of a struggle reached us—the clash of metal, the muffled cries of someone in pain.

Soren quickened his pace, his movements silent and precise. I followed as best I could, my hands trembling as I clutched the bag of sweets. When we rounded a bend in the path, the scene before us made my blood run cold.

Figures moved in the shadows, their forms barely distinguishable in the darkness. But the sounds—the wet, tearing sounds, the gurgled cries—left no doubt about what was happening. Blood Wraiths. Their pale, almost translucent skin gleamed faintly as they tore into their victims with an unholy fervour. The snow beneath them was stained red, and the bodies of villagers—Ulfstad locals—crumpled at their feet.

They must have dragged them into the forest!

I stifled a gasp, my eyes widening in horror as one of the creatures turned toward us. Its eyes glowed faintly, blood red that seemed to pierce through the shadows. Soren stepped in front of me, his sword raised, his body a shield between me and the nightmare before us. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

"Run," he said sharply, his voice leaving no room for argument.

But my feet felt rooted to the ground, my mind frozen as the Blood Wraith let out a guttural snarl and lunged toward us.