Page 33 of Moth to Her Flame

“And there’s no way to break it?”

“No.” His probe darts out to wet his lips—that fascinating, alien part of him that I can’t stop thinking about since watching him eat that peach, since feeling the delicate tendril inside my mouth. “Once formed, the bond is permanent. Even if…” He swallows hard. “Even if completion never happens.”

“So what you’re really saying is—it’s forever. Either way.”

“Yes.” His voice drops lower, barely audible over the falls. “I’ll understand if you need time. Or… if you want to—”

“Stop.” Heat floods my face, but not from embarrassment. “Stop being so long-suffering about your own death.”

“Chelsea…” His eyes darken with something that makes my pulse quicken. “I won’t push. This couldn’t be easy to hear. I’m not asking for—”

“I know.” The truth settles within me, undeniable and clear. That’s part of what makes this so complicated. He’d literally die before forcing my hand. “But I need to think. About what forever means. About what I’d be giving up.”

“Everything.” The raw honesty in his voice breaks something open in my chest. “Your normal life. The chance for a human family. Public respectability. Possibly… the ability to have children. We don’t know if Mothmen can mate with humans. Trust me, I know how much I’m asking—”

“Do you?” My voice rises to match the water’s roar. “Because I’m not just thinking about the big picture stuff I’ll lose if we don’t… complete this. I’m thinking about how my heart races when you’re near. About how your wings light up when I touch you. About that thing you did with your tongue last night that made me forget how to breathe.”

His antennae quiver at my words, and his probe emerges slightly—just enough to make my imagination short-circuit. “This isn’t just about physical intimacy. The bond… it’s a merging of energies, of essences. It’s irreversible. Permanent.”

“Forever.” The word feels too big for this hidden alcove, too vast for my human understanding.

“Forever.” He confirms softly. “But I would never trap you into—”

“I know.” Moving even closer, I watch his wings twitch with anticipation. “That’s exactly what makes it impossible to walk away from you.”

Before he can respond with more virtuous self-sacrifice, I lift onto my toes and press my lips to his. The kiss is different now that I know what’s at stake, now that I understand why his wings explode with light at my touch. His probe brushes my lower lip tentatively, arousal swirling in me like my body’s gone haywire. The contact is electric, addictive, terrifying in its intensity.

That fascinating tongue of his explores my mouth with gentle reverence, making me forget everything but the sensations hecreates. His wings curl around us, their golden light pushing back the shadows, turning water droplets into falling stars.

When we part, his wings are glowing brighter than they have all day. His antennae are perked up, alert, and some of the exhaustion has faded from his face.

“That’s not an answer,” I whisper against his mouth. “That’s just… maintenance.”

His quiet laugh vibrates through me. “Maintenance never felt so good.”

“I meant what I said about needing time. This is… it’s huge, Riven. Being bound to someone forever? That’s a lot. With humans, there’s always the possibility of divorce. Add in the whole cryptid thing… Living in a mountain, never having the kind of life I pictured as a little girl?” I scoff. “Although who am I kidding? My chances at a normal life evaporated long ago. I live like a hermit already.”

“I understand.” His wing brushes my cheek with impossible gentleness. “There are a lot of moving parts. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

Unless I wait too long, my mind adds silently.Unless thinking about forever takes longer than he can wait.

But for now, his wings are glowing, his antennae are quivering with life, and his extraordinary tongue is making promises neither of us are ready to keep.

Some choices take time.

Some bonds form whether we’re ready or not.

And some eternities start with a single kiss beneath a waterfall, while fate holds its breath and watches.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Riven

Watching Chelsea laugh at Cypher the Shadow Cat’s terrible pun about receiving “purr-fect” reception in her makeshift broadcast studio fills me with contentment. She’s lounging at the communal dining table, feet propped on an empty chair, completely at ease among my found family—even though she’s been here just a few days. The sight fills my chest with warmth.

“At least my jokes are better than Dante’s,” Cypher defends himself, whiskers twitching.

“Low bar.” Chelsea tosses a grape at him, which he catches with feline grace. “Even Volt’s weather puns are better. At least he has sound effects.”

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