Divided

Part 3: Red Moon

A/N: I'm sorry for the late upload. I was out for a bit and I had to edit this chapter. This is the last part for the Red Moon, so I hope you all enjoy:)

Caterina's POV

I continue to slide the beads onto the string, the rhythm soothing, but my eyes keep drifting toward Athan. He's so focused, every movement deliberate as his fingers work with the thread, his brow furrowed in concentration. I don't know why, but the sight of him like this makes my chest tighten, and before I realize it, I've stopped, staring at him.

He doesn't notice. Or if he does, he doesn't show it.

"What?" His voice is low, just above a murmur, but sharp enough to pull me from my thoughts. He doesn't look up from his luck string, still caught in the task at hand.

I quickly look away, my hands stiffening on the beads. "Nothing," I mutter, hoping my voice doesn't betray me as I force myself to keep working.

"Well, I didn't know you liked arts and crafts." I say, my voice light but my eyes still on him, studying the way his fingers work with the beads.

"There are many things you don't know about me, Caterina." His voice is smooth, like the words are effortless as they slip from his lips. My name, in particular, sounds different when he says it—almost like it's something he's still getting used to.

I can't help the way my chest tightens, but I keep my eyes down, focusing on the beads in my hand. "Right," I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper, as I tie another knot in the string. The moment stretches between us, heavy with unspoken things. I don't look up again.

Since the beginning, Athan's been nothing but rude. It's like I don't even exist to him, or worse—like he actively hates my presence. I mean... Princess Imperia is always there too, but she doesn't say much. She doesn't look at me like that, though. Her gaze is more curious, almost... interested, like she's trying to figure me out.

Athan, on the other hand, looks at me like I'm a bug he wants to squash. Like every breath I take is a personal offense.

"I know you've got something going on in that small brain of yours," he says suddenly, his voice sharp, cutting through my thoughts. "So, spit it out."

I freeze, caught off guard by the harshness in his tone. My stomach falls, but I don't back down.

"W-why do you hate me?" I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it. My eyes meet his, searching his face for any clue.

His head tilts slightly to the side, his expression unreadable. He raises an eyebrow, like I've said something amusing, but I can't tell if it's out of pity or annoyance.

"I mean..." I hesitate, then try to steady my voice. "I know I'm just a human, but you don't even know me." The words sound a little bolder than I feel, but I force them out anyway, hoping he doesn't see through my unease.

Athan scoffs, the sound short and dismissive. I feel my pulse quicken.

"I don't hate you." His words are slow, deliberate, like he's trying to make sure I hear every syllable.

I blink, taken aback by his response. I was expecting something sharper, something more cutting. But when he says it like that—so calmly—it only makes my stomach twist tighter.

"I just don't like you," he continues, his tone flat, but there's something in his eyes that catches me off guard. It's not just indifference. It's colder than that.

I'm stunned. I glance at him, feeling a mix of shock and confusion.

"Humans," he adds, his voice dropping a little lower, harder now. "They've made my life feel like hell."