Adrian gave in.

  His admiration for Crusader Elliott outweighed any shred of pride he still clung to. No matter how much his ego protested, it never stood a chance against that particular weakness.

  He stepped in front of Carrera, turned his back to her, and lowered himself onto one knee.

  "Get on," he instructed.

  The stiffness in his tone made it painfully obvious that he was not thrilled about the request. Carrera, however, could not have cared less. Her victory was complete, and she wasted no time enjoying it. With a delighted hop, she bounced onto his back, settling herself comfortably.

  "Hold on tight if you don't want to fall," Adrian said as he pushed himself up from the ground.

  Carrera happily obliged. From behind, her arms slid around his neck, secure but gentle, and she rested her head against his back. Her cheek pressed lightly against his spine, and from there, she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

  "Hey," Adrian said, glancing slightly over his shoulder. "I said hold me tight, not sleep on me."

  "I wasn't sleeping," she replied immediately.

  "Lies. Why rest your head if you weren't sleeping—or planning to?"

  She responded with a small, indignant hum, choosing silence over an answer. After that, the journey toward the village passed in near quiet.

  Almost quiet.

  They had already covered half the distance when Carrera finally spoke again.

  "Do you remember that one time I injured my leg playing tag in the woods with the other kids?" she asked. "You found me and carried me back to town after everyone else forgot about me."

  Adrian smiled faintly. It was subtle enough that she couldn't see it, though she did feel the slight vibration in his back as his chest shifted.

  He didn't answer.

  "Hey," she pressed. "Don't tell me you forgot."

  "Would you be quiet and enjoy the silent, stress-free ride back home?" Adrian replied calmly.

  Carrera puffed her cheeks in childish annoyance and fell quiet again.

  Adrian smiled to himself.

  Of course he remembered.

  He just didn't want to give her the satisfaction of hearing it out loud.

  Even if he tried, there was no way Adrian could forget the memories they shared—especially the first one.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Because of his hybrid heritage, Adrian had been an outcast from the moment he could walk. Children his age avoided him, and adults were no better. His dark green skin and bright yellow pupils marked him as something unnatural in the eyes of the villagers, a walking curse that invited whispers and baseless hatred.

  As a result, Adrian grew up alone.

  There were times when Aunt Mira filled that emptiness, but her work often took her to the city, leaving him behind. When that happened, Adrian would retreat into the woods, wooden sword in hand, practicing the techniques she had taught him. A tree would serve as his opponent, the forest as his only witness.

  It was during one of those solitary days that he found Carrera.

  She had been sitting on the forest floor, gripping her injured leg tightly, tears staining her cheeks as she tried—and failed—to stand. Adrian could still remember her expression, frozen in pain and frustration.

  What he remembered just as clearly were the faces of the townsfolk later that day—their scornful glares and sharp murmurs as he carried her home on his back.

  Their thoughts had been obvious.

  A half-monster touching a human child.

  Yet Carrera's father had not reacted the way Adrian expected. Instead of anger or disgust, the man had cried. He had thanked Adrian repeatedly, his wife joining him, holding their daughter close.

  That moment had marked the beginning of everything.

  The beginning of a friendship between Carrera, a full-blooded human, and Adrian, a half-blooded outcast.

  Adrian let out a soft chuckle.

  "Were you thinking about me just now?" Carrera asked suddenly.

  He straightened his head and focused forward. "I was not."

  "Lies. I heard you chuckle. You were thinking about what I said, weren't you—"

  She screamed as Adrian leaned backward slightly, just enough to make her feel like she was about to tumble off.

  "Seriously, Adrian," she snapped after he corrected his posture. "You need to stop doing that."

  "I will," he replied evenly, "when you stop talking and asking dumb questions."

  Despite his words, Adrian knew better than to expect silence. And sure enough, she proved him right by starting another complaint almost immediately.

  This time, Adrian did what he always did when Carrera talked too much.

  He said nothing.

  He focused on the path ahead, his mind steady, his pace unbroken.

  When the town finally came into view, Adrian slowed and stopped. "Car," he said quietly, "I think you should get down here and walk the rest of the way."

  "Why?" she asked.

  The question surprised him. She knew exactly why.

  "I'm fine like this," Carrera said stubbornly. "And I'm not getting down until you take me home. Right to my front door."

  As she spoke, her arms tightened around his neck.

  Adrian smiled faintly. He understood now.

  "You're a handful, you know that?" he said, though there was no irritation in his voice—only relief.

  "That's my duty as your friend," she replied cheerfully. "Now giddy up."

  She even mimed riding a horse, bouncing slightly.

  "Hiyaa," Adrian said, playing along as he resumed walking.

  The moment they entered town, reality asserted itself.

  Eyes turned toward them—cold, sharp, unwelcoming. People moved aside as Adrian passed, not out of respect, but revulsion. No one wanted to be close to him, much less brush against his skin.

  Shopkeepers glared from behind their counters. Guards at the gate spat at his feet as he passed.

  With every step deeper into town, Adrian felt his confidence erode. The murmurs pressed in, making it difficult to think, to breathe.

  Then she leaned closer and whispered, "Boo."

  It startled him—but it grounded him too.

  "If you want another fall," Adrian muttered, "I can arrange that."

  "I won't go down easily this time," Carrera said, tightening her grip even further.

  "Ow—Car, that hurts."

  "It's what you get for threatening me."

  Her grip tightened again, and Adrian winced loudly.

  Around them, faces twisted in disgust.

  A human girl clinging to an abomination.

  The hatred was unmistakable.

  And yet, Adrian and Carrera laughed through it all, walking forward together, untouched by the contempt that followed them.