In doing so, he had to pull his touch away, and once bars no longer separate us, he does not close the distance again.
With the darkness shrouding, I scan whatever details of him I can make out. The sharp angles of his face. The dark strip slicing the white between his cheeks and forehead in half. His long, pale ears.
Otherworldly.
He is regal and ethereal.
Beautiful in ways I’ve never known before in all my life. He is stunning, like the endless sky with its limitless unspoken possibilities. He is graceful, gentle,morethan anything I have ever grazed.
There are worse fates, worse wardens, worse masters to submit to.
Right now, this moment almost feels like a dream. One where I get to be in control, stop pretending I’m something I’m not, saynoand be heard.
I have no idea whether or not he’ll listen, but that is something I need to learn.
“Is it very dangerous outside at night?” I ask. “The entire day, the sky was clouded and dark, but now it’s clear, and I wonder how far from the dawn we are. If we can’t sleep anyway, maybe we can wait for the sun to rise? I could watch it crest the horizon and you could feel the warmth.”
His hand finds mine, closing gently around my fingers. “My apologies, my darling. The sun never shines fully in unseelie lands. Far too many here are nightcrawlers, accustomed to the darkness. Such is the way the shadowed domains in Faerie are.”
With that knowledge, my chest squeezes.
Am I to be subjected to an absence of sunlight for the rest of my life?
Castor cups my chin in his free hand. “What troubled you just now, my feather?”
“I…like the sun. I’ll miss it.”
His grip tightens on me, then he turns on his heel. When I stumble at the suddenness, he does not pause; he merely whirls and pulls me into his arms. The door to his bedroom opens without his having to touch it, and a tingling sensation pricks my flesh.
His long strides carry us outside, past the pool, toZahra’sfaerie path. He steps through the trod—which splits like a gate, tearing a hole in this world as it opens up another—and I witness a splash of road before he’s stepping us into yet a third world. This time, the bustle of voices makes my heart race. Beautiful buildings made of crystal rise up on either side of us, and beyond the alley we’re in, people fill a town square.
Cautiously, Castor waits between the buildings.
“Wher—”
“Shh.” He kisses my forehead, angling my face toward his robes.
When an opening comes, he slips us through the traffic, unnoticed, and glides across a field. Electric blue moths dance among the waves of tall grass, and I follow their twirls toward a cherry tree melded with an ivory palace in the distance.
It’s gorgeous. Rippling with color. So unlike the one where Castor lives.
“No,” he growls in my ear.
I startle, swallowing hard.
He pauses his frantic pace to drop his forehead against mine and smile too tightly. With forced serenity, he murmurs, “No, no, love. Don’t make me jealous. The moth prince does not deserve your awe.”
Perhaps stupidly, I say, “The moth prince?”
“Cael,” Castor hisses, tossing his chin toward the electric blue moths. “Those are some of his spies. Sayhello, why don’t you? Tell them your name.” His grip flexes into me. “Go on.”
“Um…” I look at the moths. “Hello, Cael. My name is…” Danielle. Storm. Feather. I…don’t know.
“Quickly now, love. We haven’t much time.”
“What name do I tell him?” I ask.
In lieu of answering, Castor sucks his teeth and curses.
