Page 28 of Moth to Her Flame

“I need to talk about the face I keep seeing in my shower tiles. At first, I thought it was just random patterns, but now it’s giving me stock market advice? And the weird thing is… its tips are actually making me money!”

The next hour passes in a blur of calls (some clearly spoofing me and some serious concerns), careful packing choreography, and cryptids moving my life into boxes. Between segments, Cliff shares terrible puns while Dante offers surprisingly sophisticated commentary on my book collection. Volt keepswatch from outside the open window, his occasional thunderous chuckles making the windows rattle.

Through it all, Riven stays close, his presence both steadying and electric. His wing curves around me during commercial breaks, golden light painting everything in warm amber tones that make even packing feel magical.

Finally, the last call ends. “Remember, truth seekers—sometimes the most important mysteries are the ones we carry within. This is Nocturna, signing off until tomorrow night.”

As I click off my soundboard, something catches in my throat. This little studio has been my sanctuary, my connection to the world, my way of speaking truth to strangeness.

“Ready?” Riven’s voice is filled with gentle understanding.

“No. Yes. Maybe?” Taking a deep breath, I stand. “How exactly are we doing this?”

“The others will handle the equipment and boxes,” he explains, wings spreading slightly. “You and I are taking the scenic route.”

“You mean…”

“Ever wanted to see your mountain from above?”

Heart pounding, I step closer. His arms wrap around me with infinite care, wings creating a cocoon of warmth and safety. The scent of lush, humid midnight fills my lungs.

“Trust me?” he whispers against my hair.

“Yes.”

He steps onto the porch, and one powerful downstroke launches us into the air. The ground falls away as we soar higher, my cabin becoming a toy house below. The cool mountain air rushes past, but his arms create a perfect shelter, his body heat keeping me warm despite the altitude. Each powerful wingbeat sends ripples of golden light across the night sky, his feathers catching moonlight and transforming it into our own private aurora.

My hands clutch his shoulders initially, face buried against his chest where his heartbeat thunders steady and strong. But slowly, wonder overcomes fear. His scent surrounds me—something wild and electric, like ozone before a storm—and the steady rhythm of his wings creates a gentle rocking motion that feels surprisingly natural.

“Look,” he murmurs, his low voice causing a tide of goosebumps to race across my skin.

Lifting my head cautiously, breath catches in my throat. Stars wheel overhead, closer than they’ve ever been, their light pure and untouched by earthly haze. Below, shadow-shapes move through the forest—my new family, carrying pieces of my old life toward something new. The perspective shifts something insideme—this view of the world makes everything seem both smaller and more magnificent.

His wings catch an updraft and we soar higher, the flight somehow both thrilling and peaceful, dangerous and safe. Like him. Like us.

“Thank you,” The words escape in an awestruck whisper, though for what exactly—the flight, the protection, the way he holds me like something precious—I’m not entirely sure.

His answering smile outshines the stars, and his wings curl slightly closer, creating a cocoon of warmth and golden light around us as we glide through the crystal-clear mountain air. In this moment, suspended between earth and sky, everything else falls away except the steady beat of his wings and the incredible feeling of flying in the arms of someone who would move heaven and earth to keep me safe.

Chapter Twenty-One

Chelsea

My breath catches in my throat as I stand in the entrance to the mountain sanctuary. The massive cavern before me defies everything I thought I knew about caves. Luminescent crystals stud the walls like captive stars, casting a soft, otherworldly glow that makes the polished stone floor shimmer.

“Welcome home.” Riven’s wing brushes my shoulder, steadying me as my eyes adjust. He hastens to add, “Temporary home.”

Home. The word echoes strangely in this vast space.

Stepping inside, I head straight for the circular stone table that dominates the center of what must be their grand hall. Its surface is etched with symbols that seem to shift in the crystallight. Along one wall, a natural waterfall cascades into a crystal-clear pool, its gentle music filling the air with tranquil white noise.

Movement draws my attention to a shadowy alcove. Something emerges—someone—and my heart stutters before my brain can process what I’m seeing. Her humanoid torso transitions gracefully into a serpentine lower body, which allows her to move on land and glide through water. Her iridescent scales in shades of blue and green catch and shimmer in the crystal light.

“You must be the radio host.” Her voice carries the musical lilt of flowing water and she extends webbed fingers in greeting. “I’m Marina. Don’t worry—I only eat fish.”

A startled laugh escapes me. “That’s… reassuring?” Though her spiky teeth arenot.

“Marina’s our resident water spirit,” Riven explains, his wing still a comforting presence at my back. “She keeps the falls flowing and makes sure our water stays pure.”

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