Page 10 of Of Shadow and Moon

Clothes are discarded in a frenzy, our need for each other overwhelming. A hint of doubt crawls through my chest as his gaze lingers on me, the moment stretching longer than it should. I can’t help but wonder if he’s looking at my scars—the thought tightens my throat.

The hesitation passes. It’s too dark in here.

His touch doesn’t falter and his eyes meet mine, filled with heat that leaves no room for judgment or questions. It’s as if the scars don’t exist, as if the imperfections etched into me don’t matter.

Rafael lifts me, his strength effortless, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He ravishes my nipple while his hand plays with the other. I moan at the contact, as he lifts his face to mine and grins. I feel him line himself up to my entrance.

His cock enters me with a swift thrust, and I gasp, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through my body. He is sobig. Way bigger than I have ever experienced. And gods, it feels so good.

We move together in a rhythm that feels so natural, our bodies intertwined in a dance of passion. The world outside the closet fades away, leaving only the two of us, lost in the intensity of the moment.

I look up and see that he is staring at me.

“Fuck” he grits out. “You’re so tight.” His lips slam into mine. Teeth clashing, both of us fighting for dominance. I feel him smile against my mouth.

We stay intertwined, hungry for each other for what feels like hours. That’s when I feel it, the build up, and then my body explodes. Every nerve vibrating with intensity that I let out a guttural scream.

“Rafael!” I yell. At the sound of his name on my lips, I feel him tense before letting out a guttural roar, screaming my name in response. I feel a slight tinge of disappointment at him calling out my fake name, but quickly squash it, realizing the stupidity of the thought.

We collapse against each other, spent and sated. I can't help but smile more. Rafael brushes a strand of hair from my face, his ice-blue eyes softening as he looks at me.

“Maybe escaping wasn't such a bad idea after all,” I whisper.

He chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “No, it wasn't,” he agrees. “Not at all.”

We stay like that for a while, basking in the afterglow, before reluctantly dressing. The air between us is thick, heavy with something I don’t quite understand but can feel in every corner of my being. Rafael leans against the wall of the storage closet, his shirt rumpled, his dark hair an unruly mess. His blue eyes, still smoldering, lock on mine. I can’t look away. There’s a pull low in my gut, a tether that makes no sense but is impossible to ignore.

I see it on his face too, the way his brows pinch together, as if whatever he’s feeling is clawing at him just as fiercely. For a brief moment, I think he might stay. I want him to stay, and that thought alone is enough to unnerve me. I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t want him.

But then his expression shifts, pain giving way to resignation, and I know it’s over before he even says the words. “I better go,” he mutters, his voice low and rough, like the decision is tearing him apart.

I nod, even though something inside me clenches painfully. “Yeah,” I say, keeping my tone even, my walls firmly in place. “Me too.” It’s a lie, I don’t want to go, not yet, but I tell myself I have no business lingering in this moment. Whatever this is between us, it’s fleeting. It has to be.

Without warning, Rafael steps forward and cups my face, his rough hands impossibly gentle. His lips crash into mine, hard and desperate, as if he’s pouring everything he can’t say into this one last kiss. It leaves me breathless, my knees weak, and when he pulls back, I see something raw in his eyes that makes my heart twist.

He doesn’t say anything else. He just steps away, opens the door, and motions for me to follow. We walk out into the cool air of the morning together, the chill a reminder of what's to come. The streets are quiet now, the tavernbehind us a muffled hum. Rafael pauses at the edge of the street, his gaze lingering on me one last time before he turns to leave.

I raise my hand in a mock salute, my lips curving into a smirk despite the ache in my chest. His deep, rumbling laugh follows, rich and unguarded, echoing down the empty street as he walks away. It fades into the wind, leaving me standing there, rooted in place, wondering why I feel like I just lost something I never even had.

Chapter 5

Selestina

Rafael.

I have never felt alive like that before. This feeling is immediately hit with a gut-wrenching twist in my stomach, knowing I most likely will never see him again. The kingdoms of Tonalli are vast. People here rarely see each other again without intention.

I take a deep breath and allow the crisp morning air to ground me. Then I begin walking.

The streets are quiet, except for the occasional fluttering of wings from a fire sprite or the low hum of conversation drifting from the vendors setting up for the day. The city is starting to wake with people slowly emerging from their homes.

Fine silks, intricate jewelry, the latest spell charms for protection and luck, things that only the wealthy could afford, and that others can only eye with longing.

Merchants are already shouting, trying to draw attention to their stalls. A woman selling flowers from her cart adjusts the bright blooms meticulously, brushing her fingers over each petal with a reverence that suggests theymean something more to her than the coin they’ll bring. A few feet away, a blacksmith hammers away at a piece of metal, his face streaked with soot and determination. His children hover nearby, the older ones trying to help as they can, while the youngest sits with a curious gleam in her eyes, watching her father work.

As I walk, I watch the people, some moving with purpose, others wandering aimlessly. It’s always been this way here—those who have enough to keep busy and those who are just… surviving. The wealthy pass by in their carriages, wheels rattling on the stones, barely sparing a glance at the people around them. Most likely only passing through the outer city on their way to another kingdom. But the others, the ones with nothing to spare, hustle and barter, every transaction a matter of survival. They carry their burdens in silence, their eyes trained downward or set forward, determined.

The road begins to change the farther I go, as does the landscape. The storefronts and bustling stalls fade into simpler structures, the cobblestone street giving way to dirt paths that seem to carry the weight of countless footsteps and struggles. Buildings grow smaller, older, their facades worn and cracked, covered in a layer of dust and grit that speaks of years without maintenance. The roofs sag, shutters hang crookedly, and paint peels from the walls in faded, uneven patches. I see children playing barefoot in the street, their clothes patched and threadbare, their laughter a stark contrast to the bleak surroundings.

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