The Hunger of Wings

In a world of perpetual dusk, they are the only two things that cannot coexist.

Elara is a creature of the periphery. She lives in the spaces between shadows, drawn to the flickers of warmth she sees from afar, never daring to get close enough to be seen. She is the moth, fueled by an ancient, aching restlessness, convinced that if she just finds the right light, she will finally be whole.

Julian is the light. He is a contained, burning brilliance, a beacon for the lost who doesn't realize his own glow is a trap. He doesn't know he is a lantern; he only knows that he is lonely, and that for the first time in an eternity, something is moving toward him through the dark.
They are warned from the beginning: The light will consume the wings, and the moth will leave the lantern cold.

But when Elara finally rests against the glass of his light, she realizes that the pain is the only thing that proves she is real. And for Julian, the sight of his own light dying to keep her close is the only freedom he has ever known.
Their love is not a saving grace. It is a slow, beautiful disintegration.