Page 109 of The Moon's Fury
Guilt and despair and grief took turns clawing at her heart, making it a sport to see which could wound her deepest.When was the last happy moment with her mother?Moons, she couldn’t recall. Her mother had been ripped from this world, in hiding and separated from her daughters.
Zarian must have noticed her spiraling thoughts. “I know things with your mother—”
“I’m starving,” she interjected quickly. “What do we have to eat?” He watched her closely, scanning her face with concern. He didn’t seem to find what he was searching for, because his lips flattened into a thin line, and his brows drew together.
He didn’t press her, though. He rose, bringing over a few items from his pack.
“I’ll hunt something for dinner,” he said apologetically, laying out dried meat and nuts before her. “I didn’t want to leave you alone for too long.”
“Where were you coming from when I woke?” she asked, tearing into a strip of meat.
“There’s a stream nearby. I was refilling the canteens in case you were thirsty again.”
She frowned. “Again?”
He glanced at her. “Yes. You woke last night. I helped you sit up, and you drained the canteen. You don’t remember?” She shook her head, taking another bite of the salty meat. She gazed off into the distance, her mind numbing.
Zarian’s voice tugged her back.
“After the eclipse, you slept for seven days and remembered nothing. This time, it was only three—and your memory returned without issue. You’re gaining control.”
She didn’t bother responding, but he wouldn’t give up so easily. “You’ve wanted to climb the Mountains. Now you’ve done it.”
“I was unconscious.”
“True,” he agreed slowly. “But you’ll have the chance to experience it now.”
Again, she didn’t respond.
He tried again and again to draw her into conversation, but his words were muffled in her ears.
He slit my mother’s throat. He slit my mother’s throat. He slit my mother’s throat. He slit my mother’s throat. He slit my mother’s throat. He—
Zarian grabbed her hand, forcibly yanking her from her thoughts. “Come. Walk with me while I hunt.”
She gave him a brief glance before pulling her hand away, turning her gaze back to the fire. “You go.”
“I could use your help. And you could stretch your legs.”
“Don’t feel up to it.”
“Layna—”
“I saidI don’t want to come!” she snapped.
He stared at her for a beat, emotions warring in his eyes. She didn’t bother trying to discern them. She turned back to the fire, her mind silent.
“I’ll be back soon,” he finally said.
She didn’t respond.
Layna didn’t register the time. Zarian could have been gone for one minute or one thousand minutes. He came back all the same, striding through the trees, clutching a dead rabbit in one hand.
“Any excitement while I was gone?” he asked with a small smile.
“No.”
He hummed, sitting down across her. Using his dagger, he made quick work of skinning the rabbit before skewering it.
