Moth.
The black suit perfectly contrasts with the room of pastels. His wings drag behind him like a cape, but it’s his human form he’s wearing. His makeup is a little smudged under the eyes, and the gold freckles across his skin look even brighter under the shining crystals hangingabove him.
The eclipse of moth-creatures circle the ballroom in front of where he stands. They seem unguarded and free, as if everyone is on their third glass of wine.
Even Moth appears to be more relaxed with his cravat loose around his neck and amusement inhis eyes.
And then our eyes meet, and that lighthearted gaze turns to something molten. As he stares, I am shaken to my core by the power he holds over my heart with just a simple look. He is completely still, apart from a hard swallow that makes his Adam’s apple bob.
The song changes, and so does he. With long strides, he moves without breaking my gaze. The crowd parts for their prince. It is as if we’re drawn together by an invisible force—my moth, his flame. The spectators don’t fall away like they do in movies; they watch as their prince’s clawed hand encompasses mine and all of my anxietiesfade away.
“You are here.” His whisper is warm and hypnotic. The faerie prince pulls me to his body just as the music swells.
“And you…”Are so fucking gorgeous,I want to say. Instead, I silently gape at the man I love. With skillful hands, he guides me in what I think is a waltz—it’s hard to think about the steps when I can’t tear myself away fromhis eyes.
“If I must dance, let it be in your arms only,my flame.”
Moth leads us around the dance floor with ease, where the intimate waltz becomes more of a performance. I blink, trying to process the choreographed dance I’m witnessing. It’s one of those old timey things where you circle around each other, only instead of hands touching, it’s the tip of each dancer’s wings.
“You know how to do this?” I ask, trying to commit the steps to memory. Twirl—step—circle while wing to wing, sidestep, switch sides, repeat. We can totally do this, right?
“It will be like riding abicycle.”
“Babe…” I try to look up at his smiling face without tripping. “Have you ever ridden abicycle?”
“I have not.”
A giggle escapes me as I take his hand. If we’re going to look like fools, we might as well do ittogether.
I look down to make sure I don’t step onhis feet.
“My flame…” he whispers, gently guiding my eyes from the floor.
“My Moth.” I smile, feeling my anxiety fall away with the swell of the stringed instruments. After that, it’s like I’ve fallen under a spell. My dress swishes with every turn. The feeling of his hands on mine has me weak in the knees. When the tips of our wings graze, I fall deeper and deeper under his spell.
This man is pure magic. With his patience, poise, and grace, he really was meant to be king. And all of that aside—he’s kind. With the way he glows brighter than any crystal, it’s clear. He really is happy here. Maybe Holly was right: our tiny little cabin was just an interlude for something bigger. This could be the life we are destined for—a life of smiling at strangers, influencing the Court rather than followers on Instagram.
But with Moth next to me and people like Ruby and Pepper, we could make a real life for ourselves here—with me throwing parties and smiling at just the right moment. But is it one where Moth will be sneaking out of bed every night? That’s not the future I want, no matter how covered in glitter it may be. I’m not sure it could ever make me as happy as our little cabin in the middle of nowhere.
No. I swallow hard, dizzied by each thought building as the spell of the music breaks. Suddenly, the room is too loud, too crowded, and far too overwhelming. I close my eyes, focusing on the feeling of Moth’s powerful arms around my waist, guiding me from the dance floor and toward the balcony.
“Let us get some fresh air.”
“You are a natural.” His fingers skate up my shoulders; the feeling leaves shivers up my spine and, for once, not in a good way. Considering I almost slept through the entire ball, he can’tmean that.
“Yeah?” I ask, shaking out of his grasp, forcing the most convincing smile I can muster. Overall, I guess I have been handling the Court with ease. At the night market, I suggested we should stay here, but since then, I’ve had second thoughts. A lifetime of tea parties, balls, and high society feels too much like a never-ending influencer networking event. Or wait—does he mean on the dance floor? I bite my bottom lip, trying to quiet the loop of thoughts fighting for attention in my head.
Even when this flare up has passed, I don’t know that I’d want to deal with this sort of thing all the time. Heck, in my heyday, I was really more of a content-creating hermit. Sure, my calendar was full of events, but I’d always been happiestat home.
And right now, I miss the home I created with Moth. The one hesaidhe wants to return to.
“Why don’t you head back in?” I say, sensing his restlessness next to me.
“I am worried about you,” he admits, tucking me close to his chest.
“Aw, don’t be.” I pull away just enough to hold tight to his arms. “Your mom wanted to throw this ball in your honor. I’m sure she’s already lookingfor you.”
He laughs, craning his head to look back at the overcrowded ballroom. Sure enough, she stands in the center of the crowd surrounded by beautiful, masked creatures. With an elegant flick of her hand, she waves him over. He’s hesitant until I give him a small squeeze on the arm.
