Page 40 of When the Moon Met the Sun

Besides the unusual warmth, something feels wrong. It’s too quiet, too still. Even the clouds appear to have ceased their trek across the sky.

“Aviva,” I hear a voice call out. It’s male, and familiar.

When the voice calls my name out again, this time with more urgency, I realize who it is I’m hearing.

Dimitri.

I call out his name, trying to find the source of his voice. I fly in circles, through the clouds, attempting over and over again to find my brother, to find my twin, but he’s nowhere to be found.

“I’m sorry, Viva. I never meantfor it to happen like this,” he says, his voice sounding like it’s coming from multiple directions. But I notice he also sounds cold, detached.

“Aviva!” A second voice comes cascading through the clouds, hitting me from every angle.

“Aurora?” I cry out, panic beginning to set in.

Where are they?

What’s happening?

“Viva, I’m so sorry. I just wanted to help,” she says, but her voice sounds so tired, so sad, compared to the usual brightness she carries within her.

“It’s alright, I promise I’m alright!” I say to her, spinning in a circle mid-air, still searching for my best friends.

Their voices grow louder now, so loud I have to slam my hands over my ears to try to block out some of the sound. They’re apologizing, over and over again. Aurora is louder than Dimi now—he seems to be fading away. Realizing this scares me, I don’t know what it means other than that I’m losing him.

“Please!” I cry out to them. “Stop this!”

My hands are still over my head, wings holding me in the air as I double over, folding in on myself, my breathing heavy and rapid. I can feel my heart slamming against my chest as I listen to the two people I thought I loved most in the world apologize to me repeatedly, and I don’t even know what for.

Out of seemingly nowhere, I hear a series of chirps—chirps that sound like Eden, and then everything slowly disappears.

I gasped lightly as the sunlight through the curtains hit my eyes, squinting against it. The first thing I noticed this morning was the sound of birdsong outside the inn window, which I assumed inspired the chirping of Eden I had heard in my dream, and was what Ibelieved woke me up.

The second thing I noticed was the warmth. Intense, constant warmth radiating into my skin through my back and wings.

Confused and only half awake, I tried to sit up in bed, only to be pulled back down so swiftly I almost squealed in surprise. It was in that moment that I realized what situation I’d woken up to.

Now that I was more awake, I felt it. His warm, firm chest was pressed against my back, skin to skin, as the cut open slits of the shirt I fell asleep in were hanging wide open. His breath tickled my ear, and I was attuned to the gentle rise and fall of his chest. His arm was draped over my waist, holding me in place.

At first, I was frozen, heart still racing from my dream. I didn’t exactly know what I was supposed to do. Should I wake him? Should I try to slip away? Should I stay as still as possible and hope this, too, is just a dream?

In the end, I did none of those things. I thought back on our conversation last night, how we wanted to be able to trust each other. I reminded myself that Ididwant to learn to trust this male, and I couldn’t keep denying the way he made me feel. Iwantedto feel safe with him. The warmth I was feeling wasn’t just from his body heat, but some kind of emotion, hidden deep in my chest.

One I wasn’t ready to face yet.

Moving as little as possible, I turned over so I was facing him, letting my wings drape across the rest of the small space behind me. But when I caught sight of him, I almost couldn’t catch my breath.

He looked so atpeace.I took this opportunity to calm my racing heart by studying his handsome features.

I’d never seen him look so tranquil before. His sun-kissed skin was glowing in the early morning light, his freckles making a bold appearance. He had smile lines next to his eyes, and a few gold hoops and chains adorn the tips of his ears. His eyelashes were so long they grazed his high cheekbones, and he had astrong, lean nose. In an effort not to stare at his full lips, I noticed, not for the first time, the small scar along the side of his jaw.

Gently, I reached up to touch it. I lightly ran my finger along the smooth, pale slice of skin, and realized my breathing had gone erratic, along with my heartbeat, which had only just been tamed. Not only was my heart hammering in my chest, but I could feel my zirilium thrumming in my veins, begging to be let out.

I ignored it.

Still sleeping, he leaned into my touch, as if I contained the last bit of warmth this cold world had to offer.

I gasped, surprised at his affection, even if he was still sleeping.

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