Page 26 of Only in Moonlight (The Moonlit Court #1)

Valen

C ael got us invited to view the lantern release from the connecting bridge between towers. The private location was secluded from the rest of the party, though the other guests had nothing to complain about with the view from the large windows.

And the view was truly spectacular. The city spread out below us, an entrancing maze of light and shadow.

Narrow walkways wound through terraced gardens, and moonstone buildings shifted through shades of white, blue, and purple depending on the light.

My lungs swelled with crisp air as I took in my people’s ancient home.

I would do whatever it took to keep this place and these people safe.

Symphorosa pulled Emmeline away to point out some of the city’s landmarks, leaving me alone with Cael and his bodyguards.

“She’s perfect for you,” Cael said, looking at Emmeline.

I shifted, feeling a strange mix of pleasure and uncertainty. “You think so?”

“Oh, yes. Forgive me for comparing her to Aurea, but—”

“There’s nothing wrong with Aurea.” I clenched my teeth, too late to stop my sharp tone.

“No, she’s a lovely person.” Cael’s voice held nothing but kindness. “Just not the right person for you. You need someone with more bite.”

My gaze drifted to Emmeline as she leaned against the railing, gown rippling in the wind. She certainly had bite, and I cherished her insults and her fearlessness.

Uneasiness settled in my stomach. Was Cael right? Had I found my perfect match? Emmeline had only come to the moon for the heist. She would return to Earth once it was over. I’d already planned out our public argument and the story I would tell everyone to explain our breakup.

And Emmeline couldn’t be my perfect match because I didn’t have one. I was a ruthless killer for the Crown. No one could love that.

“I envy you,” Cael said softly, which just gave me another reason to worry. If Cael turned out like Drudon…

Cael chuckled. “Calm down. I promise I won’t turn into your brother.”

I realized I was stooping and straightened up. Sometimes I thought the royals must have some kind of mind-reading magic. I’d never spoken to him about Drudon. It wasn’t a topic I cared to discuss with anyone.

“If you turn into my brother, it might put off your admirers,” I said lightly. “He’s an ugly son of a troll.”

“Yes, he looks a lot like you. But you’re avoiding the subject.”

“Which is?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve told me about how Drudon’s eaten up by resentment over you.”

“When?” I demanded.

“Oh, years ago.” He waved airily. “After the Celestial Alignment Ceremony, I think.”

Well, that explained it. I’d gotten stupendously drunk that night.

“And even if you hadn’t told me, it’s not hard to figure out.” He raised an eyebrow at something behind me. “He’s been glowering at you through the window for the past ten minutes.”

“Son of a—” I fought the urge to turn around. “Is he this obnoxious when he’s guarding Aristoph?”

“Aristoph’s obnoxiousness is so profound that it eclipses all others.”

Cael’s expression turned dark, and I wondered whether to broach the topic or leave it alone.

“And how is Lady Lurena?” I asked carefully.

“Trying to pretend she’s delighted by the arrangement. Though if Aunt Regula betrothed her to a flesh-eating squid monster, she’d act just the same.”

Princess Regula would marry off her daughter to a flesh-eating squid monster if she thought it would advance her agenda.

“I—”

Emmeline’s gasp cut me off. The first lanterns had just been released.

They rose in magnificent waves from the amphitheater, the coordinated release creating an aurora that danced between the city’s spires.

Grand lanterns shaped like miniature palaces, celestial bodies, and butterflies and birds took to the air.

The noble houses had commissioned them from master craftsmen, spending small fortunes as they tried to outdo one another.

A petty competition, but at least they put on a good show.

All around the city, people released their personal lanterns.

Smaller and made of paper, each one carried a person’s wish inside.

I remembered my family releasing one when I was a child, my mother, Drudon, and I all taking turns writing our wishes.

Drudon and I had joined forces, thinking that if we both wished for a pegasus, we’d have double the chance of our wish being granted.

Lanterns drifted by the Lightspire, the giant crystal monument’s illusionary magic seeming to multiply them, the duplicates shifting through every color of the rainbow.

That, too, only brought back memories. Drudon and I used to play tag at the monument, laughing as we chased each other’s doppelgangers.

Sometimes I could hardly believe he’d changed so much. Other times I wondered if he’d ever been the kind boy I remembered at all.

Before melancholy could consume me, Emmeline moved to my side, the warmth of her body a shield against the chill night. She gave me a smile, though her heart didn’t seem in it. When she looked back out at the city, I realized why.

She was staring at the palace in the distance.

Tonight it was transformed, its alabaster towers wrapped in ribbons of enchanted light that shifted through all the phases of Earthglow, from deepest azure to palest cerulean.

The royal lanterns had just been released, enormous constructions in the shape of legendary creatures that seemed alive as they soared higher than all others, their reflections rippling across the palace’s crystal dome.

But I doubted Emmeline was appreciating the spectacle.

Cael clasped a hand on my shoulder, saying something to Symphorosa about hot wine as they went inside, leaving Emmeline and me alone on the bridge.

“You’re nervous about tomorrow,” I said after a moment.

She ducked her head. “It’s embarrassing. I don’t usually get nervous.”

She turned around with a sigh and leaned against the railing. The pose entranced me. She looked so casually graceful, like a queen of legend resting before resuming her celestial duties.

“I’ve never spent this long preparing before. It’s more time for my worries to grow.” She tucked a windswept strand of hair behind her ear. “I usually just wing it. Maybe scope out the place the day before.”

“You? Reckless and unprepared? I don’t believe it.”

She stuck out her tongue at me. Oh, that tongue.

.. I wanted to feel it, wanted to kiss her until she clung to the railing to keep from collapsing.

The wanting, a visceral ache, tightened my chest, a pressure building behind my ribs.

My heart hammered against my sternum, a drumbeat of frantic longing.

“Only a fool wouldn’t be nervous,” I said.

“So you are, too?”

The palace drew my eyes again. “Of course. It’s a significant risk, but we’re not going in unprepared.”

“Valen...” She picked at a carving on the ornamental railing. “Plans go wrong. Even the best ones.”

“I know.” I wrapped my arms around her. “But I won’t let anything happen to you. No matter what.”

She leaned in to me. Her hair, with that subtle herbal scent, tickled my cheek. A quiet strength emanated from her despite the tremor in her hand that grazed my arm.

Tomorrow might bring disaster. Even if the heist went exactly according to plan, Emmeline would leave in a month. She couldn’t love me. No one could.

Yet she was here in my arms.

I needed the kiss as much as she did. Our lips met as we sought solace, and she clutched me tightly. My breaths grew shallow and rapid as warmth spread through me, starting in my chest and blooming outwards. She was truly magical. Her presence made me feel better in a way nothing else ever had.

The muscles in my arms tightened involuntarily, a primal urge to hold her close, to ground myself in the solidity of her presence. Even my fingertips tingled with a strange, heightened sensitivity.

She pulled away with a suddenness that left me reeling.

“Shit,” she breathed. “Is your brother still staring at us?”

I looked towards the window. Cael, brilliant friend that he was, had drawn Drudon into conversation on the far side of the room.

“No,” I said. “But let’s go somewhere more private anyway.”

I took her hand, and we walked back across the bridge.

But instead of going inside, I led her up a staircase to a balcony.

The garden was exactly as I remembered it—a forgotten paradise that had fallen into elegant disrepair, whatever noble who’d once owned it having died without an heir.

Flowers cascaded over crumbling alabaster railings, their luminous petals unfurling in the Earth’s blue glow.

Crystal chimes hung silent in the still air, their enchantments long faded.

“No one comes here anymore,” I assured her, watching as she took in the overgrown splendor. Vines of star-jasmine had claimed an ornate bench in the corner, partially shrouding it in a canopy of white blossoms. The heady scent wrapped around us as I guided her toward it.

“Won’t it be suspicious if we disappear from the party?” she asked.

“Not in the slightest,” I murmured, drawing her onto my lap as I settled onto the bench. The layers of her starry gown billowed around us like captured night sky.

Her lips tasted of sweet wine, intoxicating in a way that had nothing to do with spirits.

I traced the elegant curve of her spine through the fabric, feeling her arch against me.

Her fingers twisted into my hair, the slight pain sending shivers down my neck.

This differed from our previous encounters—more urgent, more vulnerable.

When we finally broke apart, her emerald eyes had darkened to the color of a forest at night.

“Emmeline,” I said, my voice rougher than intended. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. This isn’t—it’s not required for our ruse.”

She laughed softly, the sound like those crystal chimes might have made in their prime. “Is that what you think? That I’m performing for some invisible audience?”

“I know the stakes tomorrow. We both need clear heads.”

Was I trying to convince her or myself? With her in my lap, legs astride me, it was hard to form a clear thought.

Her fingers traced the collar of my shirt. “Maybe I need something else more.”

“You’re certain?” I asked, unable to hide the hope in my voice. But I needed her to be certain, especially since all this—our criminal partnership, our fake romance—had been my doing.

“I want you right now so much, but…” Her hand flopped to her side. “I can’t risk getting pregnant, Valen. I know you said there’s magic that prevents that, but…”

She looked at me helplessly.

“But you’re not ready,” I finished in my gentlest tone.

She hung her head.

I took a deep breath of the cool air, hoping it would clear my head. My cock was hardening under her, and I struggled to think of anything other than how much I wanted her. But as I considered the problem, it didn’t seem insurmountable.

“There are other pleasures that don’t carry that risk,” I said, my hand sliding to her knee, then pausing. “If you wish it.”

Her eyes widened, and she graced me with a dazzling smile. Then she guided my hand beneath the first layer of her gown.

The silk whispered against my skin as I navigated the elaborate design of courtly fashion. Stars, did it need so many layers? Finally, I found the warmth of her thigh and caressed her smooth skin. She leaned her forehead against mine, her breath quickening.

My hands explored, slight hair brushing my skin, until I found her entrance. A brief skim of my fingers made her gasp and straighten.

“Too much?” I asked.

“No, don’t stop.”

My fingers stroked and tested, making her tremble atop me. She was already slick with desire, her body more candid than either of us had been with words. I worked slowly at first, learning the rhythms that made her clutch my shoulders, the patterns that caused her breath to catch.

The surrounding garden seemed to pulse with the same tempo, the flowers glowing brighter with each moan I drew from her lips. Her hips rocked against me, setting a more demanding pace. I obliged, watching in fascination as control began to slip from her grasp.

“Valen,” she breathed, and stars, I would never get used to her saying my name like that.

I worked faster, inflaming her mercilessly until her entire body seized.

Her nails dug half-moons into my skin through my shirt, her face buried against my neck as she shattered.

I held her through the aftershocks, murmuring nonsense that might have been endearments, might have been promises I had no right to make.

When she lifted her face, it was one I hadn’t seen in some time.

Gone was the red-haired enchantress who’d turned so many heads at the party.

Instead, her natural brown curls tumbled around her shoulders, and the elaborate gown swallowed her tinier frame.

She had faint pockmarks on her face and arms that I hadn’t noticed—or she’d shapeshifted to hide—the first time I’d seen her on Earth.

I presumed they were scars from the pox she’d contracted when younger.

She realized what had happened a moment later, her hand flying to her face in horror.

“No,” I said, catching her wrist before she could change again. “Please. You’re beautiful.”

Uncertainty flickered across features that seemed more vivid. “You like this better?”

“I find myself strangely attracted to whatever form you take.”

A wicked smirk took hold of her face. “That sounds like a challenge.”

A laugh bubbled out of me before I could think. “Yes, I’m sure you can change into something sickeningly hideous.” I cupped her cheek. “But not tonight.”