Page 80 of Unveil

“Nothing. Forget it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Luna—”

She wheels around, shouting, “I’mfine!”

The venom she spits would knock anyone else back, but I’ve already braced myself for everything she’s got in this hidden arsenal of hers. I might not know what’s going on, but I’m a quick learner when it comes to my girl.

“Baby,” I exhale. “I don’t think you are.”

“You don’t know a goddamn thing about me, alright? You think following me around gives you all the answers? You don’tknow. You haven’t been…here.” She stabs a finger into her chest. “You haven’t seen what I’ve fought like hell to keep out, and within one week, it’s all uphere.”

Her finger jabs her temple so hard that I curse and lunge to grab her hands. A desperate cry rips from her, and she clings to me even as she tries to push me away. Emotions drown her, and her eyes plead for relief, still untamed buthers.

“It’s too much, Orion. Ifeel everything. I’m notme?—”

She cuts off the last with a sob that absolutelygutsme as she shatters against my chest.

“It’s okay. I’m here. You can talk to me. Just slow down.”

I try to wrap my arms around her, but she pushes me away.

“No, no, no,no.” Her tears spill freely now as she grabs the jug again and holds it to herself like it’ll protect her. From me, what’s inside, or both, I don’t know. I physically ache to comforther, at a loss for what to do as she rocks back and forth on her feet.

“Don’t make me, please. If I talk, I feel. I can’t feel any more. I’ve felt too much. It’s too much, Orion,please?—”

“Okay, okay,” I say softly, stepping back and trying to ignore the guilt hollowing me out. My heartbeat and thoughts race for ways to help her, when instinct answers loud and clear.

“Then we’ll dance instead.”

She starts at that. My heart pounds as I hold out my hand.

“May I have this dance?” I ask for the second time, more nervous than I ever was the first.

Her teary eyes turn skeptical, flicking down to my palm and back up again.

“You… you want to dance with me?” Her voice is so, so small, the uncertainty and hope in it splitting my chest open like a bloom through pavement.

My vow is strong, more sure than I’ve ever been. “I’ll always want to dance with you, little bird.”

Her glossy gaze sparkles as she shyly bites her lip. Then a slow smile tugs it free, and Luna Bordeaux takes my hand to dance.

Luna’s trust nearly makes me crumple with relief. I exhale slowly through my nose, calming myself so I don’t spook her. I’m so afraid she’ll fly away from me again that it takes all my restraint not to yank her into my arms. I gingerly pull her to my bare chest, while my other hand rests at the small of her back.

Her brows are still drawn together, wary. But she lets me lead her into a slow, modified waltz with steps small enough to fit the one-room cabin. I hum a folk tune, one that reminds me of a winding river, and turn her gently. She lifts the jug and spins once on her good foot, proving the moonshine does help counterbalance her body weight so she can avoid her bad ankle.

But when I draw her close again, I slide the jug from her hand and set it on the mantel.

“You don’t need that anymore. Use me instead.”

Her eyes flash right before I guide her into a turn, my hand steadying her waist. She spins so fast her tutu flares, light as air, like she’s flying. When she returns to my arms, her face has softened, the tension in her body nearly gone.

“Dancing helps,” she whispers, resting her head on my chest.

Pride fills my lungs, loosening the vise around them, and I press my lips to the crown of her head.

“Then we’ll dance as long as you need, baby.”

In all the time I’ve watched her, I’ve seen Luna carefree, happy, angry, mischievous, sassy… just about every which way I can.