Page 41 of Moth to Her Flame

“We should talk about…” Her words trail off into a gasp as my probe finds a particularly sensitive spot below her ear.

“About?” Speaking requires withdrawing slightly, which seems like a terrible idea when our intimacy is building at such a rapid pace.

“About everything.” But her hands tighten in my hair, keeping me from pulling away. “About what happens if we don’t—”

Dante’s rapid footsteps in the corridor silence us both. His tail lashes in agitation as he bursts through the door, tablet clutched in his clawed hands.

“Dr. Andrews made contact.”

Her name hits like ice water. Chelsea sits up so quickly she nearly headbutts me, though my reflexes are still sharp enough to dodge in time.

Dante’s claws tap rapidly against his tablet screen. “She just sent an encrypted message. Wants to meet. Says she has all the evidence we’ll need.”

My heart hammers as possibilities and threats cascade through my mind. “When?”

“Tonight. Old mining entrance near Starfire Peak.” His tail whips sharply back and forth only inches from the stone floor. “Could be a trap.”

“Could be our only chance to expose them.” Chelsea’s already reaching for her jacket, that familiar determination lighting her features. “My mind’s been racing through everything I’ve learned about Andrews through my research—her methodical nature, her careful documentation practices. If she’s reached out now, the evidence must be ironclad. She wouldn’t risk exposurewithout absolute proof.” She glances at the Jersey Devil. “How long do we have?”

“Three hours.” Dante shows us the message. “She’s using an emergency protocol we established. If it’s really her, she’s scared and probably being watched closely. She lives there, at Apex. They could easily keep her against her will… do anything they want to her.”

Standing requires more effort than it should, but my wings still glow faintly from Chelsea’s earlier caresses. It will have to be enough. “I’ll do aerial recon first. Scout the location.”

“No.” Chelsea’s hand finds mine, sending fresh energy coursing through my system. “We go together or not at all.”

“If it’s a trap—” I protest, using all my determination not to sound like a caveman and order her to stay in the mountain.

“Then I’m not letting you walk into it alone.” Her fingers tighten around mine. “Besides, she might be more likely to trust me—a woman a… human. It should reassure her, right?”

“Perhaps.” I’m not so sure. She’s currently in danger and it’s humans she’s running from. Still, Chelsea has a point, but the thought of putting her in danger makes my jaw clench as I barely contain my protective instincts.

“Volt’s already watching the area,” Dante adds. “Says it looks quiet, but most of the facility is deep underground. We’re not the only ones who know how to hide our energy signatures.”

“I’m glad he’s already taking care of surveillance.” Chelsea’s already grabbing her emergency bag—the one we made her prepare for exactly this kind of situation. “How are we handling transport?”

My wings flutter weakly. “I can carry y—”

“No.” Dante’s tail lashes again. “You’re barely staying vertical. I’ve got the ATV ready.” He holds up his injured wing and says, “I’m grounded too, remember?”

He’s right. Even the thought of sustained flight makes my head spin and that doesn’t factor in the extra strain of carrying Chelsea. The mate bond’s drain is getting worse. Each temporary fix lasts less time and depletes me further. Soon, even Chelsea’s casual touches won’t be enough to keep me functional.

But that’s a problem for later. Right now, there’s a frightened whistleblower waiting in the mountains, possibly walking into a trap, definitely carrying information that could change everything.

“Twenty minutes to gear up,” Dante announces. “I’ll alert the others. Remember—if anything feels wrong, we abort. No heroics.”

As he leaves, Chelsea turns to me with that look that says she’s piecing things together. “How bad is it really, Riven? The bond?”

“Bad enough.” No point lying when she can see my wings’ dulled color and the way I have to lean against the wall for support. “But I can handle this.”

“Can you?” Her hand cups my cheek, and my wings flare briefly with renewed energy. “Because if you collapse out there…”

“I won’t.” Covering her hand with mine, I let her touch restore some of my strength. “But after this… we should probably have that talk.”

Her expression softens with understanding and something deeper that makes my chest warm. “Yes. We should.”

The moment stretches between us, heavy with promise and possibility. Then reality reasserts itself in the form of Dante shouting about gear checks and tactical plans.

“Ready?” My wing curves around her shoulders, offering what protection I can.

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