Page 8 of Moth to a Flame

Could she feel that I’d noticed? Could she feel that I thought she was radiant? That I kinda had a thing for women who yelled at me?

She went very still, and her freckled cheeks turned just a bit redder.

Oh gods, this was a nightmare.

“The Moon Queen flower, its pollen was used to create bonds,” she said flatly. “Emotional connections between people who breathe it in simultaneously. We’re going to be able to feel each other’s emotions until—” She glanced at her scattered plants, at the broken pots, and I felt her despair spike. “I don’t know why I’m saying any of this. You won’t hear it anyway.”

Her sadness settled over me like a weighted blanket, so heavy I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to shake it off.

“But it will wear off, right? It’s not permanent?” I asked.

“With the way my life is going? No. Not unless I can make the counter-spell.”

“Well, what do you need to do that?”

She let out a low sigh. “I need to call Gertrude.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Fallout

My mind was still spinning. Just a few minutes ago, I’d been in the middle of the most important ritual of my life, and now the flower I’d spent the last five years nurturing was in tatters on the floor, my lungs were filled with its pollen, and a mothman who looked like I’d summoned him from the dreams I had during ovulation was staring at me.

His black hair licked at the nape of his neck, and soft curls fell over his forehead. In the faint light, a nose bridge piercing and a lip ring glinted softly. But all I could focus on were the dark eyelashes framing his red eyes.

Of course my life would be ruined by someone incredibly hot.

As the thought entered my mind, I saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward. Goddess bless, could he feel that? That I thought he was hot?

This was a disaster. Of course he could. We had been bonded by the Moon Queen, and magic had never cared very much about my dignity. I could feel his confusion and embarrassment over the whole situation because those certainly weren’t my feelings. My heart felt like it was being crushed in my chest, but I took a deep breath and pushed that away. Like I always had.

He was talking, but my mind was racing, and I hadn’t heard a single word.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“So what do you need for a counter-spell?”

“I’m not sure. I was researching how the essence could apply to curse breaking, not the pollen-bond.” I don’t know why I even bothered. Not like he would hear any of that. He’d hear whatever the curse twisted it into. I watched his face, waiting for it to shift into revulsion.

His expression didn’t change, and through our new bond, I didn’t feel the expected repulsion either. He nodded, and his antennae flicked, which was ridiculously adorable. “Curse breaking? Okay, so you might have something that could help with the counter-spell from your research?”

I stared at him.

Doris had backed away from watch out. Marigold had stopped bringing me bread over thank you, this is too much. For years, I’d stuck to pointing and numbers because numbers were the only things the curse couldn’t chew up, and this man—this mothman—had just answered me like he’d really heard me. A very dangerous ember lit in my heart.

He shifted his weight and nearly knocked another pot off the table behind him.

“Watch out,” I said.

The words that had chased Doris out of my greenhouse. The words I’d stopped saying to anyone because the curse loved them. My whole body went stiff, waiting for him to flinch, to pale, to look at me the way they all had…

“Oh.” He glanced down and stepped neatly sideways. “Thanks for the heads-up. That one’s poisonous, yeah?”

Once was a coincidence. But this was repeatable data.

“What did I just say?” My voice came out annoyingly desperate. “Repeat it back to me. Exactly.”

His brow furrowed, and through the bond, I felt his wariness. A valid emotion for a mothman who had crashed through one window tonight and didn’t want to upset the witch further. “You said ‘watch out.’ Was that—was it a trick question?”