Elanor had never been flying in the evening—God, she never thought she’d be flying in general but here they were again.

It was a perfect night, cloudless, full of stars, the moon big and bright, what a shame she couldn’t enjoy it. In someone’s arms and it felt like she should be guilty yet wasn’t.

She was a mess. The blame didn’t all fall on Rostrada’s feet though. Elanor had been lying to herself for a good, long while about her feelings, about the growing ...