The Knight and the Moth (The Stonewater Kingdom, #1)

by Rachel Gillig

Rory itched his nose with his middle finger.

There was a world behind Rory’s dark eyes. It was as if he could see everything all at once when he looked at me, and it was far too much, but he wanted all of it.

I’d fallen through the seams of time into a place where there were no Omens or stone, no armor, no gossamer. There was just Rory, me—and a strange sacrality between us.

He said it with a deep familiarity. Like he’d thought to say it a million times, and the thinking of it had worn down all the sharp edges of saying it aloud. “I’d have come for you. I’d have killed or stolen or done any ignoble thing to see you free of that place. You are more special than you realize. I don’t even know your name”—he drew in a breath—“and I would do anything for you.”

Maude and Benji, too—though they’d taken to running like dogs who’d heard a high-pitched whistle every time Rory and I were in the same room. A frequency no one could hear, but we all felt.

“Little sounds?” came his slow, mirthful reply.

“Don’t fucking touch her again.”

“I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

He broke our kiss to look me in the eyes—to smirk—and then he was lifting me off my feet like I weighed nothing. Walking us back.

He brushed his thumb over my lips. Dropped a kiss onto my mouth, pulled back—then kissed me again, like he couldn’t help himself.