Page 61 of A Moth to the Flame (Utopia #1)

Don’t make me grab your tail, I hiss.

His eyes flare briefly, and then he tips his head to the side. That’s not a bad idea. Try it. Maybe it’ll be enough without you having to kiss me.

A strange whooshing sound diverts my attention toward the sky. Not far enough above, a lone bird circles overhead, bigger than anything I’ve ever seen. Moonlight reflects off its wings.

Huge, white wings.

That’s not Wallace , Duke announces, before scooping me up like I weigh no more than a sack of potatoes.

I screech in shock as he races through the creek bed. Your wings! Pick up your wings!

The lower half of his beautiful black wings are being shredded by the rocks.

Not now, darling , Duke pants as he stays in the path of moonlight that lessens the pain, even though it exposes us to Mothman circling above. Kind of busy .

Before I can catch my breath enough to argue, we’re back at the bank where our pile of clothes remains.

He puts me on my feet, then taps my ass with the back of his huge hand, hard. Go. I’ll be a few steps behind you.

“Are you out of your mind?” I whirl on him. “I’m not leaving you here alone! You don’t even have a weapon!”

He smiles at me, but it’s bloodthirsty and horrifying and nothing that resembles Duke. I’m the weapon now .

“Don’t be a hero,” I beg as I wrap my puny hands around his wrist and try to tug him forward with all my might. “You don’t even know how this form works yet!”

A snarl erupts from his throat that’s loud enough to make me reconsider whether his tail will bring him under control.

Okay, then. He’s done playing around, and I’m not going to sacrifice myself for a feral fae who looks like he’s fantasizing about torturing me the way he used to.

I scramble up the slippery creek bank, do Duke one last favor by swiping up all our clothes so that he doesn’t have to, and haul my naked ass back to Wallace’s Jeep as fast as my regrettably short legs can carry me.

I make it back to the clearing, but there’s no sign of Wallace.

Or Mothman. I climb into the back seat of the Jeep, panting, sweaty, and trembling.

There’s a rifle on the floor, and that’s where it stays.

Wallace brought it as a backup, but I don’t know how to safely handle that thing.

I’m liable to hit someone I don’t want to shoot.

All I can do is keep vigil by swiping my out-of-control hair away from my eyes to watch the woods for any sign of Duke and Wallace.

I manage to slip on my underwear, so I won’t bloody the seat at least.

I chant a protection spell that I managed to memorize before I got trapped in the library.

Duke breaks through the tree line, running for the Jeep. He’s back in his human form.

Once he’s in the confines of the Jeep beside me, I run my hands all over his sweaty muscles, searching for injuries. “How did you shift back?”

“Fuck if I know,” he pants. He plants a rough kiss on my lips and grabs the gun. “Do not get out of this Jeep, Cordelia Diane. ”

He climbs back out into the open.

He slams the door closed with one hand, and any argument I was about to make dies on my tongue as I watch him pump the rifle with the other hand, then aim toward the cemetery at the same time.

God, that’s…hot.

I jump at the sound of him firing at the road ahead of us.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” he bellows.

I follow the direction of his shout to see Wallace racing toward us, three ginormous wolves gaining ground on him.

Duke fires another round that hits the closest wolf square in the chest. Even from a distance, the spray of blood is unmistakable, but the direct hit doesn’t fell the snarling beast. It only slows it down. For a moment.

I don’t know whether to vomit or scream.

Duke continues unleashing a barrage of precise shots until Wallace scrambles into the driver’s seat and starts the engine. Duke barely gets the back door closed before Wallace floors the accelerator and jerks the wheel hard to the left. The rear of the Jeep fishtails in a spray of gravel.

I twist around to find the wolves still pursuing us. They’re as tall as cows, with midnight fur that blends into the dark surroundings, save for their glowing red eyes.

“I think I figured out where Granny’s skulls came from,” I mutter.

Wallace takes a sharp turn at top speed.

“Can those things get to us in here?” Duke shouts.

He slaps something against me, and I glance down to figure out what the hell he’s doing. With the hand that isn’t still clutching the rifle, Duke holds my shirt over my breasts.

Oh, right. Still half naked.

Kind of hard to shimmy into my clothes when I’m being tossed around in the backseat like a ragdoll.

“I’d rather not have my new tires slashed by a bunch of overgrown dogs,” Wallace explains, like he’s only slightly put out by these distressing events. “They won’t be able to keep up once I reach the main road.”

All I hear is that Wallace didn’t immediately, confidently say, No. They can’t reach us in here.

The main road is still miles away .

“Fuck this,” Duke bites out, hauling me into his lap. He squishes my face against his chest. “Keep your head down.”

A wave of power jolts me.

The sound hits my eardrums a second later.

I’m really going to miss having access to his fae powers.

“Impressive,” Wallace shouts over the wind. “Do it again.”

“Easy for you to say. This is actually my first rodeo,” Duke mutters, and another shockwave rolls through me.

I agree with Wallace. It’s incredibly impressive. Really tempted to lick Duke’s bare chest as a show of appreciation, but I don’t want to distract him from aiming backwards at multiple moving targets. He’s using powers that he never even knew he had before.

My skyrocketing arousal doesn’t care about the imminent danger.

Even after the wind whips my hair around when we speed up on the open road, Duke doesn’t release me.

His free arm is banded so tightly around me that he’s basically my human seat belt.

He smooths my hair away from our faces, using his fist as a makeshift ponytail holder before turning my head back and forth, looking me over.

Are you okay? he asks as he continues to inspect every visible inch of my skin. Are you hurt?

I’m fine. Are you hurt? Your poor wings…

He crushes our mouths together again, and then rests his forehead against mine. Let’s tackle one problem at a time, Gingersnap. He lifts his head and flicks his eyes between mine. You sure you want to go through with this?

We stick to the plan, I insist.

I just hope we’re not betting everything on the wrong one.