Dance of the Starlit Sea

by Kiana Krystle

Genres: YA Contemporary; YA Paranormal

Synopsis

“Hades and Persephone” meets Phantom of the Opera by way of Laini Taylor, in a sensually rendered world that seethes with intrigue and indulges the senses. Welcome to Luna Island.

Violet, magenta, deep blood red. 
Passion, violence, destruction.

Lila Rose Li arrives at her aunt’s cottage with dashed dreams. For years, she pushed herself to become the perfect ballerina her parents would approve of, but after collapsing on stage, she snapped and lashed out violently. Now, exiled to Luna Island, with its sparkling blue waters and rose-covered boutiques, Lila struggles to believe that a girl like her—a natural disaster—deserves good and gentle things. 

As the islanders gear up for their beloved tradition, the Angel of the Sea pageant, Lila vows to remain on the sidelines. But the more she learns about the island’s lore, the more she grows suspicious. Luna Island was nothing more than a failed fishing village before angels supposedly came and blessed them with abundance. The pageant is a competition to seek a High Priestess for their commune. To win is to be loved and adored by all, the ultimate blessing. 

However, the Angel of the Sea is supposed to reign for seven years, and the previous winner only reigned for one. Something is haunting the island, throwing off the balance the pageant ensures. And as an eerie voice calls to Lila, drawing her closer to the ocean—to its depths—she worries its haunting her, too. The only way to discover what’s really going on, and protect herself, is to win the pageant. But how can a monstrous girl like her ever hope to be crowned by angels? 

Kiana Krystle's enchanting debut simmers with forbidden romance and dark secrets. A lush and sinister blend of paranormal mystery and mythology, wrapped up in fairytale about a teen girl's hard-earned journey toward loving every part of herself.

 

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Release date: August 6, 2024

Publisher: Peachtree Teen

Print pages: 368

Sample

Chapter 1

The Atlantic pulls at my heartstrings, as fondly as a bouquet of jasmine blossoms tied up in a bow. I fall before the rising waves, collecting the pearlescent sea-foam. It’s sacred, just for me, like a gift from a lover or my dearest friend.

When I was little, I used to run into the Pacific for a moment of peace. It scared my mother silly watching her only daughter dive into the water’s wrath. But I adored the sharp cold, the strength of the undertow, the reckless rush of the currents. The ocean could never hurt me. We were one. We still are, no matter how far from home I’ve come. My mother always said that, like the sea, I was chaos incarnate.

Which is exactly how I ended up here, on Luna Island.

The waves dissolve into foaming petals, reminding me that something so powerful can also be quite fragile at the core. My eyes fall shut as I plot my return to the depths. If I weren’t on my best behavior to impress my aunt, I’d run in deeper and let the waters reclaim me.

“Lee-la,” Auntie Laina calls from the cottage window. “Come back inside, sweetie. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Her voice snaps me out of my daydream. “Coming!”

Reluctantly, I rise from the sand.

A burst of florals hypnotizes me towards the cottage. Sweet peas and moonflowers press through the porch’s warped wood panels. I make my way up the whitewashed steps, and a velvet orchid wrapped around the banister tickles my hand. Twinkling sea glass wind chimes wreathed with roses send a shiver down my spine as I grip the tarnished doorknob, hopeful that this place will become familiar soon. After all, it is my home now.

With a deep breath, I make my way inside.

“What’s up?” I say, taking a seat at the dining table.

An assortment of tea and sweets is laid out. Only the owner of Petals Tea Shop could arrange such a charming display. A smattering of preserves and jams in heart-shaped dishes are nestled between the crooks of crumpets, scones, and other pastries garnished with lavender. Laina grabs a Danish with buttercream frosting dripping from a flaky crescent roll. Crumbles of brown sugar tumble off as she takes a bite.

I pour a dash of cream into a teacup. The milk feathers out like a lotus blossom. In China, where my father is from, the lotus symbolizes honesty, goodness, and beauty.

I may be beautiful, but I’m not honest, and I’ve never been good.

“How are you feeling?” Laina asks. Her voice is lush and airy.

I trace the hand-painted buttercups beneath my thumb. “Better,” I lie.

She smiles sweetly. “Do you want to tell me what happened yet?”

My father hasn’t told her? Of course she’d want an explanation, especially since I was sent to live with her out of the blue. Laina and I are practically strangers.

“You don’t—you don’t know?”

She laughs. “My brother hasn’t called in nearly eighteen years. Actually, none of your uptight aunties have since they moved to the mainland. And although your father hasn’t had the decency of a ‘hi, Laina,’ or ‘how ya doin’, Laina?’ I’m overjoyed to see my gem of a niece here after all this time. Frankly, whatever happened between you and your daddy, you deserve nothing but grace. He can be so cold sometimes. Believe me, Lila, I know.”

I take a long sip of tea, letting the warm vanilla blend soothe my throat. My father has every right to hate me after what I’ve done. But there’s comfort in Laina not knowing that. Not knowing me.

“Thank you,” I manage to say.

“Of course, Peaches.”

Laina releases a sigh and stretches back in her chair, extending her arms through the open window as if to collect the sunlight. Her long black hair tangles with the breeze, and the ribbon corralling her locks nearly slips out with the wind. I wonder what it’s like to be that free—so placid in her happiness, aloof in her lemon-colored cottage. My aunties back home could never be so relaxed. Why did they move away from here? From Laina?

She’s beautiful. She has the same eyes as my dad—upturned and almond shaped, brown, with a glint of amber in the sun. However, unlike my dad, she’s full of softness and roseate warmth. Her eyes crinkle adoringly when she smiles, and the tips of her fringe kiss her lashes. 

She laughs again as her chair slams back onto the ground with a thud. I jump, rattling my teacup against its saucer.

Laina doesn’t notice. Instead, she grabs my hand. “Look, I know being here is going to take some getting used to. So if there’s anything I can do to make this change more comfortable, please let me know.”

I hesitate, pulling my knees towards myself like a crustacean curling into its shell. I was supposed to graduate high school early this summer. Finish with a GED and join a preprofessional program for ballet. That was the dream. I don’t think anything can make it right now. Not when I’m on Luna Island instead of where I should be. Besides, there’s not even an audition for me to work towards after I ruined my reputation onstage.

“I’m alright,” I say. “I’m just going to get settled in my room.”

“Lila.” She stops me from rising. “I can’t let you waste away in there on your birthday.”

I sit up taller in my seat. “You—you remembered?”

“Of course. It’s today, right?”

“Yeah, it is.” My voice drops. I don’t want to think about how my parents sent me away right before I turned eighteen or how I don’t know Laina other than the birthday card she sends each year. A rising heat spreads across my palms. My stiletto manicure sinks into the threads of my dress, crumpling the thin cotton to calm my racing pulse. I hate myself for fraying such a delicate piece of my wardrobe. I sigh, smoothing out the floral print. “Thank you for remembering.”

Laina tilts her head to the side, offering a faint smile. “It’s the least I could do after . . . you know. Honey, I’m really sorry about everything. I won’t pry, but let me show you a good evening. Luna Island really is quite lovely if you give it a chance.”

I tug at the locket around my neck, the only thing from my mother that I brought with me to Luna Island. “That’s sweet of you, but I just want to settle in.”

“Then settle in with me tonight at the Midsummer Ball!”

“The what?” The last thing I want right now is to be around anyone else, let alone attend a ball.

She leaps to her feet. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t mean to overwhelm you, but it really is a treat. The Midsummer Ball typically only happens every seven years, and you just happened to arrive during an anomaly. Besides, it’ll be a good chance for you to get acquainted with the community. Luna Island rarely ever has visitors.”

“So I’ve heard.” I reach into my pocket, running my fingers over the frayed ferry ticket crumpled in the hollow of my cardigan. . . .

The ferryman on Virginia Beach had looked me up and down before boarding, examining my ditsy-print suitcase.

“You planning to stay awhile?” he’d snapped.

The bite in his voice made me jump. I looked down at my heels as if they were ruby slippers that could make me disappear with a click. “Um, I guess I don’t really have a choice.”

He scoffed, taking my ticket. “Good luck, kid.”

“Excuse me?”

His eyes narrowed. “You really haven’t heard the stories?”

Was I supposed to? My parents hadn’t told me anything. “No,” I said to the ground.

“Only a handful of visitors book a ticket every month. Usually lose it before they can even board. Or sometimes they just forget. Miss the ferry, something comes up. Whatever it is, hardly anyone ever makes it to Luna Island.”

I glared at the crescent-shaped island in the distance. Was this why my parents had sent me here? To be swept away by the sea before even reaching my destination? I wouldn’t blame them. Not after what I’d done. I tugged my cardigan around me tighter, limbs shaking. Pale green waters lapped beneath the dock, taunting me forward like spindly fingertips.

Lila, it called. Come to me.

My eyes shut, breath hitching as I dropped my suitcase. It was an overtone of a voice—twin echoes, not quite human. I had heard it only in my dreams, that liminal space between reality and the otherworld. Sometimes, the veil would part when I reached a void—cliffsides, the open ocean—coaxing me to follow.

It’s true, I’ve always loved the sea. But I’d be lying if I said my intrusive nature didn’t terrify me. Sometimes, I mistake the ocean as my friend. But she is not a friend, and she is not kind.

“N-no,” I stammered, banishing the sea’s echo and its hold over me. It can only hurt me if I let it.

The ferryman chuckled. “Just as I thought. Another flake.”

“I—I meant, no, I’m not leaving.”

His lips twisted into a smirk, pausing, as if I’d back out. “Hop on before fate changes its mind.”

Clinking porcelain startles me back to reality. Laina laughs as she recovers the sugar dish she toppled over on the table. The memory disappears with the crystal grains she sweeps onto the floor.

“I hate to cut our tea short, but I have to get going soon.” She tosses back the beach waves fanning her neck. “The town is in a tizzy. I’ve been scrambling all week to get these pastries ready for the ball. We usually have months to prepare, but one town meeting and bam! I’m slammed. It’s amazing what we’ve managed to scrape together with only a few days’ notice.”

“I don’t understand,” I confess. “If the Midsummer Ball only happens every seven years, then why now?”

Laina rises, checking her watch and cursing beneath her breath. “Why don’t you come with me! It’ll be good for you. Girls your age always hang out on Main Street. Maybe you’ll even make some friends.”

I nearly laugh. If only she knew the girls back home would rather slip glass into my pointe shoes than be my friend. “Thanks, but I highly doubt that.”

Her smile wavers as she sinks into the chair beside me. “Come on, Lila. Give it a chance. Pageant season is fun. It was my favorite tradition when I was your age.”

“Pageant season?” I wince. I know it’s not the same as ballet, but I can’t stomach the thought of another competition right now.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t suggesting you participate after . . .” She shakes her head. My muscles tighten. So she knows about that. Great. “All I meant is that it would be a good opportunity to get acquainted with the island, maybe meet a few people. Please, I won’t allow you to waste away here all alone on your birthday.”

My breath slows as I glance at the scabs that mark my palms like tiny crescent moons, branding me with the mistake that got me sent away.

I didn’t mean it.

I was being impulsive.

I’m sorry.

I tremble, shoving my hands beneath my seat.

“That’s sweet of you, Laina.” She’s trying, and I don’t want to make her job any harder than it already is. “I guess I could come along.”

“That’s the spirit!” She wraps me in a hug and pulls me to my feet. “Here,” she says, handing me a hundred-dollar bill. “We’ll go into town, and you can pick out something nice while I finish up at the shop. The boat sets sail at eight o’clock, and you need to dress to impress!”

“But, I— What do you mean ‘boat’?”

“The boat for the ball! The dock is right at the edge of Main Street. You can’t miss it once you’re in town.”

My heartbeat quickens. It’s one thing to be trapped here. It’s another to wander the unfamiliar streets alone. I shake my head. “This is too much. And I can’t take your money.”

“Yes, yes, yes, you can!” she says, grabbing a knit shawl off a hook near the front door. After slipping a wicker basket stuffed with fresh-baked goods over her arm, she gently tugs me down the hall.

“Laina—”

She tears open the door. “Let’s go.” She presses a hand to my back, and I stumble onto the embroidered welcome mat. “You need the retail therapy. Trust me. Take a walk down Main Street. There’s a dress shop over there. Pick out something pretty, and I’ll meet you at the dock at eight. M’kay?”

“Wait—” I try to say, but the wind tosses my hair in my face. I pluck it from my glossy lips and sigh. Laina is already halfway down the cobbled walkway, her basket jostling at her hip. The crisp green bill she gave me flutters in my hand. I’d better make use of Laina’s kindness before it slips away too.

***

Main Street reminds me of several towns I once visited in Europe—a blend of Positano, Amsterdam, and Paris. Townsfolk parade down cobblestone steps, wearing long pastel dresses and carrying bouquets of bright flowers tied with a bow. Laughter fills the air as ladies chat with shop owners and sip their teas below lace-embellished verandas. A man carrying a loaf of bread stops to tie his dog to a Victorian streetlamp. The little terrier yaps as I walk by, wagging his tail.

I pause, embracing the warm scent of butter and cocoa as a little boy brings a chocolate croissant to his sticky lips. Then, the salty mist of the sea comes rolling in with the breeze, reminding me I’m still on Luna Island and not in a Parisian romance novel. I inhale the familiar brine, and a flock of butterflies emerges from the rose bushes. They circle me, tangoing with the ribbons of my dress. For a moment, I pretend like I’m deserving of this bliss.

And then I see it.

My breath shudders as I surrender to the island’s charm.

Before me is the most beautiful boutique I’ve ever encountered. It looks straight out of a fairytale. A garland of mauve roses adorns the top of the cottage-like shop, vines curling downwards and falling languidly over the windows. Hanging above the door is an oval sign with chipped paint that reads Luna’s Love Shack in swirly cursive. As I draw closer, soft colors seep out of the window, revealing a dress display.

The romantic gowns with puff pastry sleeves remind me of the costumes I used to wear for ballet. My muscles tense, and I bite my tongue. Before coming here, it was my dream to become a prima ballerina. A deep resentment fills my stomach, for those dreams will never happen now. I steady myself against the window, channeling images of the sea, praying for some sort of release. Only, the ugly truth is too intense to vanquish with daydreams of escaping like a selkie in water.

I’ll never be the perfect ballerina.

I’ll never be worthy of my parents’ love.

I exhale a defeated breath, imagining myself in the pink dress with glittering teardrop crystals, twirling around onstage as the Sugar Plum Fairy. Perhaps if I just try one on, I can pretend to be the principal dancer I almost was. Maybe then the pain of longing might settle. Even for just a moment.

A bell chimes as I open the door. It’s even more magical inside than out. Spools of ribbon hang from the walls like the atelier of a fairy queen. Tiny jasmine buds lace through the curls of a crystal chandelier. Dresses fill the curves of antique wardrobes, as if this were a princess’s closet and not a store.

A group of girls squeal as they browse the gowns. They’re dressed almost otherworldly, so unlike the yoga pants and sweatshirts I’m used to in San Francisco. Instead, they’re ornamented in seafoam trousers made of silk, lace corsets with ruffles across the bustier, satin slips with rose embroidery. They wear seashells in their hair and around their necks—an iridescent mollusk held together by a string of pearls, an abalone claw clip that flashes different colors beneath the light, pukas threaded between pastel sea glass.

“Do you think this will be enough to impress the angels?” one of them says, holding up a white-gold gown with flashes of magenta cascading between the layers of silk. “I really want to make a statement tonight. First impressions are everything.”

Her friend shakes her head. “You’re going to need more than that if you want to one-up Roisin. You know how she is with a sewing machine.”

“Pick the one with the crystals,” another girl cuts in. “The angels love anything that glitters.”

Someone scoffs beside me and I turn, meeting a girl hanging new gowns on satin hangers. She seems about my age, with vibrant persimmon hair tumbling down to her waist. Her pinkish skin is dashed with freckles, and

her frame is small and delicate.

“She’s right,” the girl mutters to herself, half hidden behind the racks. “They’re going to need more than that to outdo me.”

I look her up and down. She’s lovely, like a rose-gold angel. “You mean for the pageant?”

She blinks, stumbling as our eyes lock. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone was listening. Good tidings! How can I help you today?”

I hesitate, taking another look around the room. Foiled stars shimmer across the ceiling, hand painted with a glimmering sheen. It’s almost like this place has been enchanted, and for a second, I even believe it is.

“I—I guess I’m looking for a dress for the Midsummer Ball.”

She scrunches her button nose. “Wait, how do you know about the Midsummer Ball?”

“Oh. Well, I’m staying with my aunt for a while. Laina. She owns Petals Tea Shop.”

“Interesting . . .” Her eyes trail over me. My throat tightens as her lashes flick up and down. “Your locket. It’s from Luna Island, isn’t it?”

I glance at my chest, grabbing the heart held around my neck by a golden chain. It’s an antique made from a rare source of mother-of-pearl found near Luna Island’s shore. It flashes lilac, green, and pink in the light.

“Yeah, it is. I was born here.” I’ve had it with me since I was a baby. There’s a picture of my parents inside. My mother said to wear it so I’d always know they’re nearby. Though, it feels more like a noose now.

“Besides that, you’re dressed like a total tourist.” The girl laughs.

Heat rises to my cheeks. Sure, my sundress is simple, but I’d thought the tiny flowers on it were sweet. Now they just seem childish. “Is it really that obvious?”

“This is Luna Island, not Palm Beach. Good effort, but I’m sure I could help you find something better.”

Her confidence makes me falter. “Yeah,” I mutter, gathering my hair to the side. “Everyone here looks like—”

“An angel of the sea?”

“Angel . . .” That’s what that other girl was saying earlier. Something to impress the angels.

“My.” Roisin’s fingers flutter to her lips. “I know you’re new here, but your auntie really never mentioned the angels before?”

“No.” I twist the locket once more. “What, are they like your mascot or something?”

“This isn’t high school, silly. The angels are all around. You never know who might be one. If you’re lucky, they visit you. Grant you wishes. Extend protection, charms, or gifts.”

A scoff escapes my throat. “You’re kidding, right?”

She stares me down with her hazel eyes, their color changing in the light.

“You should be thankful, Roisin,” one of the local girls interrupts. Spiraling golden ringlets strung with tiny seashell beads frame her heart-shaped face. The slight sunburn on her nose gives her a sun-kissed glow. “One less pretty girl to compete with you for Angel of the Sea.” 

“Angel of the Sea,” I say. “Is that the name of your pageant?”

The girls exchange knowing glances. I assume that’s a yes.

“I’ll see you tonight, Serena,” Roisin says with a lilt. “Oh, and Ophelia was right. Go with the sparkles. Though you’ll still need a bit more to outshine me. Perhaps an accessory? We have an array of jewelry in the back.”

Serena sheds a sheepish smile, offering a friendly nod before turning to leave. And although she walks away politely, I’ve competed with girls long enough to know Roisin’s confidence was enough to make Serena second-guess the dress entirely.

“You know, you’re pretty good at this whole thing.”

“What, sales?”

“No. Competition.”

She smirks, extending her hand. “I’m Roisin. It’s Irish. Ro-sheen. But it’s spelled R-O-I-S-I-N. Confusing, I know.”

Roisin. It’s pretty. It suits her.

“I’m Lila,” I mimic. “Lee-la. But it’s spelled L-I-L-A, like Lie-la. Confusing, I know.”

She giggles, and I almost think we could be friends.

“Well, Lila, it’s lovely to meet you. Welcome to Luna Island’s famous dress shop.”

“Famous dress shop?”

“These aren’t just any dresses. They’re special. Magic, some would say.” Her eyes twinkle as she pulls me over to a cluster of dresses hanging in one of the wardrobes. “You see, the silk is spun by the angels.”

“Right . . . the angels.” I study Roisin’s ever-changing eyes, trying to decide if she’s just teasing me.

She nods, leaning over and whispering, “They’re alive as you and I.”

A shiver slithers down my spine as I recall the voice at the dock. It’s nothing. I’ve heard that voice my entire life. It isn’t any different here than it was back home. Just my anxieties taunting me.

“You see, the dress you pick brings you good fortune. Whether it be for a first date, a meeting with your lover’s family, or even a new beginning.” Roisin tugs my wrist, whisking me away to another aisle of gowns.

The dresses are all floor-length and full, with bows that tie in the back and sweep into trains of ribbon. The more I study the ruffled sleeves and embroidered bustiers, the more otherworldly they appear. There’s lace so dainty it would require a needle as thin as a hair to weave. Bows so small, they must have taken the nimble fingers of a fairy to tie. Or, perhaps, an angel. They remind me of the hopefulness of playing princess, and for a moment, I want to believe in Roisin’s myths and magic.

I need something to believe in after I stopped believing in myself.

I’m deserving of gentle things, I silently affirm, indulging in the softness of the silks beneath my fingertips. Breath catches in my throat as I embrace the chiffon-spun flowers. I repeat my meditation like a mantra. I can be good. I can behave. I will not crumple the fabric with my fists, or puncture holes in it with my nails.

My eyes bloom as I meet a silk as smooth as water. It shines like a pool of opals. The connection is tender and romantic, like how the feeling of summer

swelled up within Romeo when he first laid eyes on Juliet. She was beautiful, as fair as their beloved Verona. And here, this dress reminds me of all the loveliness of Luna Island.

It’s hand dyed soft colors—blush and blue, lilac and lemon—like a sunset sky above island waters. A blue sash cinches the waist, and the bow in the back fans out into multiple ribbons, each one a color featured on the dress. Labyrinthine embroidery coils into roselike shapes, and the ruffled sleeves remind me of cream puff shells. I check the price tag, confirming it’s within the budget Laina left me with.

“I’ll take this one,” I say.

“Oh, I just adore this dress.” Roisin hums. “Good choice.”

My nails tap against the counter as I wait to pay, tik, tik, tik, filling the silence between my burgeoning questions. I can’t help but ask, “Where do these myths about the angels come from?” They seem like an important part of the island’s culture, and I’d be naive to move here without learning more.

She giggles, folding my dress between thin layers of perfumed tissue paper. “They’re not myths, silly.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s our little secret on the island.” She winks, handing me a floral shopping bag.

Secret. My stomach drops. Whether the angels are a myth or not, Luna Island is a paradise, and I don’t belong here after what I’ve done. I look around the shimmering dress shop. It’s too good to be true. Getting sent here was supposed to be my punishment, not some whimsical island getaway.

I take the shopping bag, but before I leave, I find the courage to ask, “What does the Angel of the Sea win anyway? I mean, why do you guys care about it so much?”

She tilts her head to the side. “Why does anyone care about winning, Lila? It’s an honor, isn’t it?”

I swallow a breath, holding back what I really want to say. It slips out anyway. “Winning isn’t all it’s cut out to be. Good luck though.”

I push through the door, letting the bell drown out her response.

Clouds roll in as I leave, washing pale blue undertones across my skin, as if I too am fading. The pain lingering in my palms returns, a phantom sting that never quite wanes, reminding me of who I am. I did something wicked, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hide it. The ocean sings to me, echoing back and forth, calling me to embrace where I truly belong.

Come to me, Lila, it says. Come to me.

It’s intrinsic. Feral. Like an animalistic urge I can’t tame. Is it in my head, or is it real? It’s a game my mind likes to play. All I know is I can’t resist it. The water taunts me in the distance, begging me to cross the cobblestone street and white sands to reunite.

Come to me.

I run.

The wind mangles my hair and my true colors unfold with the tide, revealing

 how dangerous the waters can really be. How dangerous I can really be. My heartbeat quickens.

I want to fit in.

I want to be good.

I hold my breath, counting to ten as the waves retreat. My knuckles turn white as I clench the handle of the floral-print shopping bag from Luna’s Love Shack. Bile crawls up my throat, remembering that the delicate gown cradled between the pink tissue is nothing more than a disguise to make me feel lovely while my own beauty fades.

I exhale, dropping the shopping bag into the sand, and run towards the wild sea. ...