Page 33 of A Moth to the Flame (Utopia #1)

Chapter

Twenty-Two

DUKE

Pacing the floor of this worn-down house isn’t going to change anything. Cordelia’s not here, and I don’t know where to look for her next. Or if I even should.

The last rays of twilight cast long shadows around the boxes of Granny McCoy’s belongings. The sword propped in the corner of the sitting room reflects the fading sunlight.

I shake Cordie’s head, plaster her hand over her mouth, and stare at the bookshelf that she’s been trying to read through.

I can’t even fucking help with that. Just like I couldn’t help going back for more all those years, even though I didn’t know I was doing it.

I broke that girl, over and over and over again.

No matter how much I hated Cordie for the way she invaded my mind, I didn’t mean to hurt her.

Did I do something particularly heinous the night I found out that I couldn’t even enjoy sex with someone else in real life? I don’t know.

I distinctly remember the first time that I visited Nell Duncan’s cottage.

It was the night that I’d overheard Cordie gushing about her new college boyfriend.

The pain in my chest was so sharp that I was sure I was dying.

I was willing to pay the old seer anything she wanted to finally get Cordie out of my head, to erase her from my body.

I couldn’t go through with it. Something stopped me from putting a single foot on that property.

Something punished me for even trying. Not two seconds after I turned away, a storm rolled up out of nowhere.

Blind from the rain, gasping for breath, I tripped and fell on the gravel road and fucked up my knee so bad that the reminder of what I almost severed lingers still.

Something has been keeping me tethered to her for decades.

Fate.

Because we’re mates.

A bitter, roiling sensation in the pit of her stomach makes me clench her teeth harder. I don’t even know what the fuck that means. I can’t read any of the books in here to find out, either.

All I know is how I’ve felt all these years. When she was here, I couldn’t be with anyone else. Never stopped me from trying. After she left, I was better, but I wasn’t healed, not all the way. Still couldn’t get her out of my head, but I could act like a normal man at least.

Could get my rocks off and make sure that they did, too.

I always went into a hookup with an open mind. Convinced myself that the next one would be the lucky charm to break my curse. Told myself that if I was generous and giving and good and kind and sacrificed enough, that their happiness would wash me clean.

The second Cordie came back to town, I knew my hope was just a different kind of fantasy.

I never saw her drive in. Didn’t even hear that Granny McCoy had passed until two days after the fact.

Didn’t matter.

I could feel Cordelia. In my head. In my chest.

Suddenly, I was broken again.

It’s only gotten worse since.

I’m stuck inside her body. The fantasies that have plagued me for half my damn life are so violent, so animalistic that I?—

I am afraid.

Of myself.

Of what I might do to her .

Of not knowing how much time I have until I break.

I gotta get outta here. Everything in this house is so full of her , and she sure as shit wouldn’t want this asshole humping her pillow like an addict trying to stave off withdrawal.

I have a clear path forward now, a way out of this hell for both of us.

I’ll burn my pride to ash before I cross another line with Cordelia McCoy.

The moment I slam the door behind me, I smell rain. It’s dark outside, but lightning flashes through clouds in the distance. No thunder, so the storm’s still far enough away that it might miss us.

Her legs burn with how hard I push her muscles to get to town faster, to chase away the ache that’s settled in her chest like it plans on staying a while. I ignore the urge to search every inch of the woods of these mountains until I find her, safe and sound.

Another flash of lightning illuminates a pair of green glowing eyes on the road up ahead.

I sprint toward Cornelius.

“Where is she?” I pant. “Is she safe? Is she okay?”

“She is devastated,” he says, his accented voice quiet.

A slow, long roll of thunder steals his next words.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I snap, hands on her hips, still heaving like I forced her body to run a marathon. “Is. She. Safe?”

He nods, like a human, not an animal. “For the time being. She sleeps.”

I don’t believe him, not for one damned second. She might be sleeping, but she’s not safe. Not if I can’t see her, in my body. Not if I can’t smell her, in my skin.

The vice around her chest tells me that she’s not okay.

“Tell me what to do, cat.”

He shakes his furry little head, glancing toward the woods. “I am not certain there is anything left for you to do.”

“I’m going to get the money,” I promise. “You heard the fortune teller. She can help us!”

He snaps his gaze back to me. “That fortune teller was a selkie. They are not to be trusted, much like your kind. ”

“You’re the one who sent us in there!” I explode. “Why would you do that if she was a silky that you don’t even trust!”

“A selkie , you insufferable creature,” he snarls. “I did it because I hoped to discover why you are the only person besides the coven and the f—” He bares his teeth at me. “The only person who can see through the shrouding spell on Cordelia. I got the information I needed.”

“Well, just fucking great for you! I got some handy information, too, and I’m damn well gonna use it!”

Cornelius rolls his eyes. “You do not need a cleaving spell. Cordelia may be your mate, but you could never be hers.”

I open her mouth, then snap it shut when another peal of thunder echoes through the trees.

I lean down toward the little furball and hiss, “I. Don’t. Know. What. That. Fucking. Means.”

He unleashes a single claw like he plans to use it. “Witches do not have mates. My witch, my girl, will never be yours.”

I stagger back a few steps.

“Don’t call her a witch,” I rasp.

Witches are evil.

Cordie can’t be a witch. Cordie’s nothing like Neveah.

“That is what she is,” Cornelius says before sighing. “Or what she should be.”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I bellow.

“It is none of your concern.” He licks his paw, his word final.

Over my fucking dead body.

“So, what? You’re just going to leave her like that? Asleep somewhere alone, stuck in my body? You’re a fucking coward.”

The cat scoffs. “That is a laughable accusation coming from her supposed mate. What have you done to protect her? To cherish her? To worship the powerful witch that she was always meant to be?”

I can’t argue that. Not a single thing.

“There’s something wrong with this town,” I say instead, “just like there’s always been something wrong with me.”

“On that, we can agree.” Cornelius darts his gaze toward the woods again. “Dark magic has tainted this town for centuries. ”

“That still doesn’t help me. Or her,” I grind out. “If you don’t have any better ideas, then I’m going through with the selkie’s spell.”

“Do what you feel you must.” The cat twitches his whiskers. “And I will do what I must now that I am awake. Cordelia is no longer your concern.”

A brilliant burst of lightning blinds me for a heartbeat.

When I blink at the darkness left in its wake, Cornelius is gone.

Like hell Cordie isn’t my concern.

I’m not about to trust a fucking cat clock to do right by her.

For now, I’m the man—the mate—for that job.

I drag her fine ass all the way to town as rain begins to patter on her face.

For her, I’ll beg, borrow, and steal.

It’s the least I can do after all I’ve done.