Trials of the Moon (book 3) Peter Pevensie Romance

Survival on Hell's Edge

Layla POV

The moon was hot, burning hot, like an oven. I had to take it off.

"Something must have happened," I exclaimed looking at the necklace on the table. "It has to. Why would it be like this if nothing did happen? Is he, dead?"

Lucy put her hand on my shoulder, "I'm sure he's fine, Peter promised to try surviving out there."

"I'm sure that'll be considered as an understatement," I muttered. "We aren't surviving very well over here either, with all the bombings going on." The last bombing in Cambridge was last week.

"Or the rationing," Lucy added.

"Looks like Peter's unit was moved." Edmund said, as he entered the living room with the latest newspaper.

"What?!? To where?" I exclaimed.

Lucy looked over her brother's shoulder at the paper, "Doesn't say, but at least they're saying that war with the Germans is slowly moving towards the Allies's favor."

****
Peter's POV

By now, it was already dark, but the hue of the campfire lit the faces of those around the fire pit and it warmed my face. I still had dust and dirt smudges on my clothes from what had happened earlier.

"Peter, look out!" A fellow soldier had warned me and I narrowly dodged a falling stone shortly followed by another one on my other side.

I helped drag a fellow comrade out from under some rubble. He wasn't badly injured, but his leg was sprained and he had some bad cuts. A medic came to check on him.

"Still worried about the people at home," Asher sneered as he walked over to a stone column and leaned against it.

I didn't say anything but kept staring at the fire and the moon gripped in my hands.

"You know," he spoke up after a few minutes, "I've seen a half moon quite like that before."

I jerked my head up at him and glared at him.

He just shrugged like he didn't care what he had said had any significance. "Quite similar, actually. Though, the owner never told me that you had the half."

I instantly jumped to my feet a pinned him against the column within minutes. I could feel the heat in my face.

A collective gasp from the other men reminded us that we still had an audience.

"You've crossed the wrong lines!" I gripped his uniform shirt furiously. "It's not your moon." I slammed him against the column again. "It's NOT your business!"

"You wouldn't know that, would you?" He retorted and I could feel my muscles quivering.

"Hey, chill mate," an older soldier told me. "We're all tense here, and we've all got people back at home."

"Don't die out there," I could still hear Layla telling me before I left Cambridge.

"Why don't you two join us by the fire," the man continued.

I plunked myself down next to him, still steaming.

"Tough ground, eh?" the man spoke after a while.

I looked up at him then pulled out the necklace and looked at it. "Yea, I suppose."

"Your lucky cap's let you keep that thing. Done a miracle or two on you I can tell," he offered me a cigaret but I just shook my head and looked back at the fire.

"I honestly wish I were dead."

The man just laughed, "yes, war can do that to you."