Page 58 of A Moth to the Flame (Utopia #1)

Chapter

Forty

CORDELIA

I never knew what his skin smelled like. Or how much he loved his family. Didn’t realize that the books that were a blessing to me for so long were a curse for him. Most of all, I never imagined that when I returned home, he would be waiting for me.

A month ago, all I wanted was to reach this goal that’s so close, I can almost taste it.

Everything has changed.

The blanketing silence of the night weighs heavily on Duke’s shoulders as I stare at the magical scene before his eyes.

Everywhere I look, willow trees blot out the stars above.

They’re not uncommon in the mountains, but they’re only typically found near water.

I hear the undulating rush and trickle of a creek in the distance, but it’s not close enough to justify this sweeping majesty.

This is practically a forest of weeping willows.

Granny always said these were the wisest, oldest trees in all the woods in all the world.

“This is a road that leads to nowhere,” Wallace finally murmurs, with what sounds like genuine reverence. “A final resting place for vessels that have cleaved from their souls. ”

That’s a really poetic way to describe a cemetery.

“Have you ever thought of writing a book?” I ask him.

He smirks without glancing my way. “I’ve written several.”

Of course, he has.

And I’m living in a story now, no imagination required.

Actually, I take it back. A little imagination is still necessary, in ways I never dreamed of.

Duke’s been noticeably silent since we piled into Wallace’s Jeep back at Granny’s. He stares at the lonely road with a glazed look in my eyes that makes it seem like I enthralled him while I was in his feral fae form, the way Mothman had entranced me.

That was only two days ago. It feels as though a lifetime has passed. Even if we had two years, I’m not sure it would be enough to process all we’ve learned.

I wrap his hand around mine. “Are you okay?”

He clears my throat and blinks out of his reverie. “As okay as I can be, I guess.”

I squeeze my hand.

He squeezes back.

A ghost of wind rustles the delicate leaves.

Wallace smiles at Duke. “Ending is just another word for beginning. Fear not. It was always destined to come to this in one way or another. There is hope yet for something better.”

I glance between the people who flank me on the roadway. Our shadows stretch long in front of us, backlit by Wallace’s headlights. Something feels off. Something more than the ghosts of past lives and lost loves that whisper through the branches.

I lick Duke’s lips, feeling momentarily soothed by their soft firmness.

“Is there something you’re not telling us?

Maybe about why Neveah and Hope suddenly trust you to chaperone a member of the coven who’s supposed to stay hidden?

Or why Cornelius has been assigned to guard the library, even though no one can get in without my blood?

We already know this spell is a long shot, so what’s really going on that has the rest of you acting so rattled? ”

Wallace runs his tongue over his sharp teeth. “You know now that fae and witch alike are bound to Utopia’s well,” he reminds us. “I am likely not the only one who suspects that your bond may be the key to our freedom.”

That’s all he says.

I’m tempted to touch him, to see if I can pull another vision out of the ether, even if only to better prepare myself for the fight ahead.

I don’t.

Tonight has become a pit stop on a longer journey. I have all the answers I need waiting for me. Just have to jump this current hurdle first. I don’t want to become like them, powers or not. Don’t want to turn into a thief of other people’s lives and memories and futures.

It’s almost laughable that getting back into my own body isn’t my most important goal anymore. Tragic might be the more appropriate term.

“Let’s get on with it then.” I stride toward the rushing water, unbuttoning Duke’s shirt as I go.

With every step through the tall grasses, I convince myself this will work. It has to. The more spells we try to break the body swap, the bigger the risk of Duke’s body shifting into feral form again.

Soon enough, the sound of my much lighter footfalls signals Duke trailing me toward the creek.

He’s silent as he strips down beside me. He doesn’t make eye contact, and he makes no comments about the bloody pad in my underwear. Doesn’t even ask if it’s okay for him to get in the water while my body is still bleeding.

Being here truly saddens him, and that, in turn, saddens me.

Duke isn’t wrong about this spot being the perfect location. He possesses knowledge that multiple maps didn’t. His inability to read doesn’t make him stupid in the slightest. He memorized all the stories his parents told him about the Decorating Day event where they first met and fell in love.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask as I steal a glance from beneath his eyelashes at the moonlight washing over my naked body.

“Can’t.” He shakes my head, then steps forward until we’re chest to chest. He wraps my hands around his and squeezes. “Silence is the name of the game, remember?”

In a rush, are you ?

Yeah , he answers. I don’t think we should risk talking like this either. Feels like cheating somehow.

I nod.

But just in case I never get a chance to say this again, I need you to promise me something.

I swallow a ball of dread. I’m aware of the risks we’re taking, but it feels like he’s giving up. Accepting that he’s nothing more than a monster in waiting.

I’m not sure I can do this without him. I’m not sure I want to.

He gazes up at me with a look of such soft contentment that it’s jarring. Has my face ever looked that way before?

“No matter what happens to me, you have to keep going.” He tightens his hold on his hands.

“We don’t know when I’ll shift again, but it seems pretty likely that it’ll happen tonight.

Our powers might not be shared anymore after we get back into our own bodies.

And I—I’m hoping for that. For your sake, I’m counting on it.

If things get worse instead of better, then I need you to remember that you’re my mate.

I’m not yours.” My voice cracks on that last word.

“Please. Promise me that you’ll find out everything you can, even if I can’t help.

My brothers and nephews deserve answers as much as you do. ”

I blow out a long breath, mentally locking down every part of me that wants to argue against his fatalism.

I’m sure he’s battling daunting memories in this haunted place that bring all the questions of his existence to the forefront.

He’s seen firsthand a future for himself that he never imagined in his worst nightmares, and he doesn’t want that for the family he loves so deeply.

“I will. I promise.” I lean forward and kiss my forehead to seal the deal.

He cracks a lopsided smile as a determined look settles in my eyes. “At least if I get too out of control, you know exactly how to use my tail to bring me to heel.”

I snort as tears well in his eyes. Trust Duke to ruin a perfectly poignant moment.

He takes a deep breath, then steps back. “Time to get this show on the road. ”

I offer him his hand. Just because it’s called a feral form, doesn’t mean you won’t be you, Duke.

He smiles at me, but there’s a sadness behind my eyes that refuses to abate. He takes his hand anyway.

We approach the bank of the creek together.

It’s wide and looks shallow, but every mountaineer worth their salt knows that looks can be deceiving. Large boulders create little eddies. Miniature waterfalls cascade over sandstone slabs. The dappled moonlight illuminates a haphazard path between total darkness.

Neveah insisted that we play it safe by entering the water a mile downstream from the bridge. We’ve got a long, treacherous hike ahead of us.

I can only hope our efforts will be worth it on the other side.

No talking starts now, I whisper against the song of the crickets.

He nods. Right now.

We slip and slide our way down the bank, helping each other the best we can in bodies that aren’t our own.

Even after a month of learning to move in his longer limbs and more muscular body, I’m surprised at the easy strength of his hand supporting most of my weight when he stumbles on an unseen rock.

The water hits his feet like a bucket of ice. It’s so cold that it burns.

I have to bite his tongue to keep from yelping. It’s almost like his body is repelled by the water, or like the water is trying to push him back to the shore.

He glances at me with a raised eyebrow, clearly confused at my hesitation. Within seconds, he’s waded into the middle of the creek, where the break in the trees creates a clear path for the moonlight to illuminate the biggest obstacles.

That’s a good sign that my body isn’t reacting the same as his.

I grit his teeth to keep them from chattering as I struggle to reach him.

I’m not sure if that sound would count as speaking, but I don’t want to risk finding out the hard way.

It feels like I’m trudging through quicksand, like his weight is a hindrance here instead of an advantage.

I can’t imagine how much worse it would be in his larger feral form.

My lighter body probably isn’t sinking in the soft spots of the creek bed nearly as much as his .

He tips his head to the side when I finally make it to him, after taking three times as long as it took him to reach the center of the creek. His silent question is clear.

He wants to know if I’m okay.

I nod, and so we move forward, hand in hand.