Page 25 of Of Shadow and Moon

The voice is deep and cutting, each word laced with a barely restrained irritation. Tomas and I both turn, and my eyes land on Matheus, the dragon prince from Tepetl. He’s sitting a few rows down, and as he swivels in his seat, I’m momentarily taken aback. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard his voice.

His wild, fiery red hair catches in the low light, falling in waves around his face. His amber eyes tinged with barely concealed annoyance. There’s something about him, something distant, like he’s got a fortress around himself that no one can touch.

Tomas, of course, is completely unfazed. “Oh, lighten up, Matheus,” he drawls, grinning in that easy, irritating way of his. “It’s a library, not a monastery. Besides, we’re just keeping things interesting for you.”

“Some of us came here to read, not listen to your obnoxious flirting.” Matheus’s voice is clipped, and as he speaks, I notice the book he’s holding. He tries to discreetly tuck it beneath his arm, but not before I catch the title:The Bond of Fated Mates.

A strange pang of irritation flares up in me. Of all things for him to be reading, whythat? I swallow, my gaze fixed on the book even as he tries to hide it, the muscles in his jaw tight. It’s none of my business what he reads, yet something about it needles at me, as if he’s overstepping some invisible line.

Tomas snorts, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, there he is. The loner dragon. Always so serious. You could use a little more fun in your life, you know? Might actually do you some good.”

“Fun?” Matheus’s tone is ice cold, and he looks at Tomas like he’s something he scraped off his boot. “Your version of ‘fun’ is meddling in everyone’s business andpretending you know more than you actually do. Some of us have real work to do.”

“Real work?” Tomas laughs, an easy, carefree sound that’s almost infectious, even if it is grating on Matheus. “Mate, you’re reading about fated mates. Don’t try to act like you’re above it all.” He leans in closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

Matheus’s cheeks darken, a blush rising just below the surface, though he keeps his composure. “It’s for a class,” he mutters, tucking the book further under his arm and looking away, as if he can ignore both of us entirely.

It’s oddly satisfying to see him flustered, and I can’t help the small smirk that forms on my lips. But at the same time, the sight of that book tucked so possessively under his arm still bothers me, and I can’t quite shake the feeling. I don’t know why it matters, but something about it feels… personal.

Tomas nudges me with his elbow, his grin widening as he glances between us.

“Drop it, Tomas,” Matheus warns, his voice hard, his eyes sharp as flint.

“Oh, come on, dragon prince. Admit it.” Tomas chuckles, undeterred. “You’ve got a bit of a soft spot under that moody, mysterious act, don’t you? Probably fantasize about a damsel to swoop in and save?—”

“Keep going,” Matheus says , voice low, “and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

Tomas only laughs, clearly enjoying every second of riling him up. “Alright, alright, relax. We’re all friends here.” He gives Matheus a look that’s almost fond, as though he genuinely enjoys Matheus’s silent, stoic company, even if it’s mostly met with resistance.

Matheus lets out a frustrated sigh, finallyturning back to his book, and for a brief moment, his eyes meet mine. I catch a glimpse of uncertainty, maybe even a hint of vulnerability, buried deep beneath his guarded exterior. But then, just as quickly, he looks away; the book pulled protectively against his chest like a shield.

I find myself staring, unsettled by the strange twist of emotions bubbling up inside me. I don’t know why it bothers me that he’s reading about fated mates, of all things, but it does. Maybe it’s the way he’s so intent on hiding it, as though the very idea of someone seeing him with such a book is intolerable.

“Whatever,” I mutter, forcing myself to look away, my voice harsher than I intend. “Both of you should stop acting like children. I’m here to study, not listen to… whatever this is.” I gesture to both of them with my hand.

“Gladly,” Matheus says, his voice cool, but I can tell he’s eager to end the conversation. He retreats into his book, his expression closed off and unreadable as ever.

Tomas, on the other hand, is still grinning, clearly enjoying the tension that lingers in the air between us. “You two really are something.” He chuckles, giving me a wink before leaning back in his chair. “But fine, I’ll leave you lovebirds alone. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

I roll my eyes.

Matheus doesn’t look up, his focus entirely on the words in front of him, but I can’t ignore the tightness in my chest, that unfamiliar, almost unsettling anger simmering beneath the surface.

An uncomfortable silence settles over the library, as Tomas’s footsteps echo down the aisles. Matheus, still clutching his book as if it’s some sort of shield, refuses to meet my gaze. I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves, the hard line of his jaw, the way his shoulders aredrawn taut beneath the weight of whatever he’s holding back.

His fingers tighten around the cover, and he hunches forward, as if he could fold into himself and disappear. It’s an odd look on him, someone who typically carries himself with the fierce pride of a dragon prince. And yet, here he is, trying to become invisible under my gaze, caught between irritation and… something else. An ache pulses in my chest, something I can’t quite name, and I wonder why it bothers me so much to see him like this—so reserved, so guarded, as though he’s holding a secret that he doesn’t trust anyone else to keep.

I clear my throat, hoping to break the strange spell that seems to have settled between us. “You know,” I murmur, trying to sound casual, “someone once told me that fated mates weren’t merely a myth. That every soul was destined to be bound to another, or perhaps even to more than one. But after La Guerra de Dioses, the fates, enraged by Tonalli’s actions, stripped it away. Leaving behind a world devoid of love—the cruellest punishment the fates could bestow.” My eyes widen at my words.

I quickly lower my gaze, embarrassment flooding me with the admission of what Mara told me ages ago.

Matheus’s gaze snaps to mine, his amber eyes hard, simmering with barely restrained frustration. For a second, I think he might respond, might say something to contradict what I said. Instead, he presses his lips into a thin line, his brows furrowed in confusion, and lets out a huff of resignation. He closes the book slowly, his fingers lingering on the cover before he rises from his seat. The sound of his sigh fills the silence between us, heavy and filled with the frustration he seems unable to voice.

As he strides toward the checkout desk, his backstraight and steps purposeful, I can’t help but watch him. When he hands over the book to the librarian, he glances back at me one last time, his gaze fierce and conflicted. It’s an unreadable mixture, anger and something else, longing perhaps, hidden beneath his usual mask, but that makes no sense. The sight unsettles me, and before I can decipher it, he’s gone, leaving only the scent of smoke and the hollow echo of his departure in the quiet library.

Chapter 13

Selestina

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