Page 19 of Moth to a Flame

Everything was not fine.

My ritual was ruined. It had been an accident, but the result was the same. The Moon Queen was dead, and I had cursed a kindhearted stranger in the process.

And this bond was a curse, because now he was stuck here with me. The witch cursed by the one who was supposed to love her most because she had tried to do what was right.

I’d fought—and I had lost.

I was supposed to be celebrating tonight. I was supposed to be free. Now I was more trapped than ever.

I let Mugen go and wrapped my arms around myself, rocking back and forth slightly. Tears turned into sobs, and I never let myself sob, but what else was I supposed to do? My only hope currently lay crushed on my greenhouse floor.

I was cursed, and I was going to stay cursed.

Cursed and alone. Forever.

The sadness came up fast. After everything that had happened, I didn’t have the energy to fight it. Years of practice being fine, of shoving it down, moving to the next step, keeping myself moving forward, failed catastrophically.

The room around me blurred, and my ribs ached with each pained breath.

Through the wall, very faintly, I felt him lie down. I felt the slight ache of a bruised shoulder as he settled into the mattress.

I felt him wonder if I was all right.

But the sadness was so heavy, I couldn’t even feel shame about him knowing.

I just cried and cried until there was nothing left.

Only darkness.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Morning Snack

She’d been crying. I felt her trying to push it down, over and over, but she hadn’t managed it. The sadness had overflowed until exhaustion claimed her.

It had been horrible, like white-hot knives cutting into my ribs and heart. I’d gone to her door, thought about knocking, but what would I say? Sorry I ruined your ritual? Sorry that I have no idea how I’m going to help you fix this?

Despite our bond, I could feel her guarding herself. I could feel her emotions, but only if she let herself feel them too. I didn’t know who had cursed her, but they had left a deep hurt that I didn’t think she knew how to heal. She’d healed my forehead and hand like they were scratches, but some wounds ran deeper than even her magic could reach.

I wanted to help her because I didn’t want her to feel like that again if I could help it. I couldn’t stand to see her light being snuffed out over and over again. But I wasn’t a magic or research guy. I was a guy who drove packages.

I went back to my room and flopped onto the bed just as my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Motthew had sent a selfie of him and a cute girl cheesing at the camera.

Me:

Shouldn’t you be studying?

Three dots popped up.

Motthew:

Ok grandpa. It’s a Friday. Besides I thought you liked Sheila

Me:

I do like Sheila, but I also like you getting good grades.