Luna's Point of View
He lay still beneath the stars.
Not asleep. Not unaware.
Just... still.
Like the sky when the storm has passed, but the clouds haven't quite cleared.
I watched him from the edge of the cove, my tail coiling idly behind me, twitching at the tip. The water at my feet was quiet, reflecting the silver moon above. The wind shifted gently, carrying his scent to me again.
That scent...
It was strange. Unlike any human I had ever known. Not the stench of blood and fire. Not the putrid smoke of burning nests. His scent was sharp—pine and coal and sweat—but underneath, there was something softer. Something old. Lonely. And something I hadn't known until tonight—kindness.
It unsettled me.
I didn't trust humans.
I wasn't supposed to.
They were killers. All of them. The Queen had said so. Every human was a liar with a weapon. They smiled to lure you close, and then they broke your wings.
I had seen it. Felt it.
I had been caged once. Not physically, but under her. The Queen. She had called me "Night" when she was pleased, "Plasma" when she wasn't. No name. No freedom. Just a label. A tool.
But now...
Now I had a name.
Luna.
When he said it, something strange had moved in my chest. Something tight. Something warm.
I had never had a name before.
I had never wanted one.
But this one...
It felt right.
And that scared me.
I glanced back toward him. He hadn't moved. Just lying in the grass, arms behind his head, eyes closed like he wasn't worried about being hunted. Like he wasn't surrounded by a creature who could tear his throat out before he could blink.
But I didn't want to.
Not because I couldn't.
Because I didn't need to.
When he treated my wounds earlier, I had expected cruelty. Pressure. Pain. Or worse—mocking gentleness meant to humiliate.
But he had been... careful.
Not weak. Not timid.
Deliberate.
His hands had worked with precision, but his touch had felt... soft. As if he thought I would break.
That should have angered me.
I was a Night Fury.
I had shattered skulls, toppled beasts twice my size. My wings could slice through bone. I was not fragile.
And yet...
I had liked it.
I had liked the way he looked at me—not with fear or superiority, but as if I were something important. Something worth understanding.
Something worth keeping.
I didn't understand it. I didn't trust it.
But I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I turned from the water's edge and padded toward him, quiet as a shadow. The earth gave way beneath my claws like it always did, but he didn't react.
Still resting.
Still... breathing.
I reached him and stood over his body. The moon lit his face. Stronger than other humans. His skin was marred with scars—earned, not inherited. His scent lingered thick in the air. Blood. Sweat. Fire.
But also that same note of loneliness.
I knew that smell.
Because it was mine too.
I lowered my head, sniffed lightly at his chest. His heart beat slow. Steady. No panic. No fear.
Only... patience.
And then he spoke.
"Luna."
My ears perked.
He hadn't moved much—just opened one eye. Barely a sliver. But the sound of his voice when he said it... it didn't feel like a command.
It felt like a question.
And I answered it.
I met his gaze—tilted my head slightly.
Curious.
As if asking:
Who are you?
And more importantly...
Why do I want to know?