Page 27 of Only in Moonlight (The Moonlit Court #1)

Emmeline

I watched the Valen drink in my appearance, no sign of the disappointment I’d dreaded. Relief washed over me, a lightness that raised my shoulders. The tension that had knotted my stomach loosened, the ice inside me melting into a gentle warmth.

“Is this your true form?” he asked, gently tucking a strand of brown hair behind my ear.

“It’s what I revert to when I’m sleeping or lose focus.” I tugged on my oversized dress. “My original form, I guess. I don’t know about ‘true.’”

His face held no judgment, just honest curiosity. “Do you identify with another form more?”

“Not really. I…” I rubbed my chin. “I like the variety. I shifted appearances when I was pick-pocketing to fit my mood. When my mother was getting healed, I spent two months pretending to be her son so we could travel more safely. It was fun being a man for a while. It’s different when I’m impersonating someone.

Then I’m trying to act like them. The rest of the time, it’s still me. ”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I can see that.”

Could he? Even my mother hadn’t understood when I’d tried to explain it.

He traced my cheekbone with his thumb. “There is something about you that shines through no matter what form you take.”

The tenderness in his touch was more overwhelming than the pleasure he’d just given me. This wasn’t part of our agreement—this softness, this acceptance. It threatened our partnership, our heist, and everything I’d ever told myself about the Moonlit Court.

I shifted, aware of his obvious arousal beneath me. “Your turn,” I whispered, reclaiming familiar territory.

“You don’t need to—”

I silenced him with a kiss, my hand sliding between us to unfasten his formal trousers. “I want to,” I insisted, enjoying the way his breathing stuttered when my fingers wrapped around him. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

The helpless groan that escaped him was answer enough. Now I held the power, setting a deliberately languid pace that had him gripping the bench with white knuckles.

I’d only done this twice before with Philippe, but I’d seen it performed countless times, and I was a quick learner. I discovered what Valen liked—a twist of my wrist, a firmer grip—cataloging each reaction with the same precision I’d use planning a theft.

“Look at me,” I commanded softly, thrilling at the way his eyes, dark as lunar shadows, immediately found mine. No man had ever looked at me with such raw vulnerability, such surrendered control.

“Emmeline,” he gasped.

I increased my pace, watching his face as he came apart. His release spilled over my hand, his body shuddering beneath mine. For a moment, the powerful knight was completely at my mercy, defenseless and true.

Afterward, he produced a handkerchief from some hidden pocket, cleaning us both with gentle care.

We rearranged our clothing in comfortable silence, then settled side by side on the bench.

He drew me against his chest, and together we watched the last of the festival lanterns drift across the night sky, their lights slowly fading as they carried their wishes beyond our reach.