Page 49 of Of Shadow and Moon

Nasarea doesn’t hesitate. “Sure. Let’s do it.” She grabs my arm before I can protest, dragging me toward the makeshift dance floor near the fire.

I let her pull me along, the drink still clutched in my hand. Maybe this is what friends do. Maybe this is what I’m supposed to do. I’m not sure, but I go along with it, anyway.

The boy spins me into his arms, his hands on my waist, his breath too close to my ear. He’s talking, but I’m not listening. The words blur into the thrum of the music, into the crackle of the fire.

Dancing. I let my body sway to the rhythm of the music the way I always used to do. Dancing was as much a part ofme as killing for Alexander was. I don’t even care who is holding me as we say, my mind is completely on the music.

My mind drifts, tugged back to the intensity of the princes’ stares.

Their attention is no longer passive. I glance up and see them, scattered yet united in their focus. Nazriel’s jaw tightens, his hand curling into a fist at his side. Tomas’s playful smile is gone, replaced by a sharp edge that gleams in his crimson eyes. Kaelion’s horns catch the light as he straightens, his tattoos flaring. And Rhyker—his wildness is barely contained, his green eyes burning like forest fire.

I feel their anger as if it’s my own, radiating off them in waves. It’s ridiculous. Hypocritical. They don’t own me. They have no right to feel this way. But their jealousy crackles in the air, undeniable.

And then, suddenly, he’s there.

Matheus.

He stalks into the firelight, his fiery hair ablaze, his presence magnetic. The crowd parts for him instinctively, their chatter fading as he approaches. His eyes find me instantly, and the fury simmering beneath the surface is palpable.

The boy at my side falters, sensing the shift in the air. Matheus doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to. He, alone, is enough to command the space, to suffocate any protest.

The song ends, and I step away from the boy without a word, leaving him to stammer in confusion. Nasarea appears at my side, her drink sloshing as she laughs.

I can’t help but laugh too. The absurdity of it all spilling out in a burst of drunken humor. The alcohol is starting to hum through my veins from the few sips I have taken, and the tension of the night begins to melt away. For a moment, it doesn’t matter who’s watching or what they want. For amoment, it’s just Nasarea and me, laughing like we’ve been friends forever. Not like we have hated each other’s guts since we laid eyes on each other.

Balance. It’s all about balance.

I look up at Matheus who is still standing next to me with his fists clenched. He meets my eyes before nodding to me and then to Nasarea, and walking away.

“Did you see their faces?” she says, giggling uncontrollably. “They looked ready to tear that guy apart.”

I laugh too, because it really is ridiculous.

“Besties,” she says, raising her glass in a mock toast. “Who would’ve thought?”

“Not me,” I admit, clinking my glass against hers. We can’t stop laughing at the stupidity of it all.

We spend the next few hours dancing with each other and drinking entirely too much. The princes’ stares never leaving me. No other guys approach us for the remainder of our night, and I like it that way.

All the girls at this party are trying to get their attention, but no matter what, their gaze never leaves me. Gods. Why does that make me feel hot? Why are all five of them staring at me like that, anyway? I don’t get it. One of them hates me, one of them hates everyone and everything, one of them never talks, one is a stalker, and the other is a notorious flirt. I shake my head at the sudden stupid thoughts.Ugh!Why am I letting men boggle my brain?

The cool night air feels sharper now, but I’m just too drunk to care. Nasarea is giggling uncontrollably next to me, her arm slung around my shoulders as we stumble away from the bonfire. The forest looms around us, but in our inebriated state, it might as well be a decorative backdrop.

“Do you think...” Nasarea hiccups, leaning so close herhair tickles my face. “Do you think sprites get drunk? Like...like...what if a sprite finds fermented berries, huh? What then?”

I blink at her, trying to focus on the absurdity of her words while simultaneously navigating the uneven path. “A drunk sprite,” I say, testing the words like they’re some profound revelation. “Imagine it. Just...flying but diagonally. Chirping like, ‘Hey guys, check this out!’ OH MY GOSH. That’s drinking and flying which sounds so dangerous.”

Nasarea cackles, and it’s so contagious that I join in, our laughter echoing through the still night. “What if—wait, what if there’s a little sprite bar?” She gasps, wiping at her eyes. She’s laughing so much, tears are dripping down her face “And they’re all sitting there, wings up like, ‘Pour me another round, Carl.’”

I snort so hard I nearly trip over a rock that’s protruding out of the ground. “Carl the bartender. He’s a woodpecker, obviously. Pecking into barrels for everyone.”

“Oh, totally,” Nasarea agrees, clutching her side as we wobble along. “But there’s a seagull who keeps trying to steal everyone’s drinks. You can’t trust seagulls, trust me. They’re shifty.”

We both dissolve into hysterics again, nearly collapsing against each other as we try to regain some semblance of balance. My cheeks hurt from laughing, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this...free. It’s ridiculous and nonsensical, and I don’t care. For once, I’m not thinking about missions, or Alexander, or the princes and their stupid smoldering stares. It’s just us, two drunk idiots wandering through the night.

“Okay, okay, serious question,” Nasarea says, holding up a finger as if she’s about to deliver agroundbreaking thesis. “If you had to fight...one giant duck or...a hundred tiny horses, what would you pick?”

I stop dead in my tracks, my brain struggling to process the scenario through the haze of alcohol. “How giant is the duck?”

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