Page 3 of The Moon's Fury
Zarian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tightly. He was silent for several heartbeats before he finally spoke. “Forgive me. I’ve been a jealous wretch. But you know your mother doesn’t approve of us. And neither does the council. They would love nothing more than for you to marry Nizam. And for me to be swallowed by the desert.” His proud shoulders slumped as he stared at his lap, and Layna wished she could erase his doubts.
“I don’t care.” She pressed closer into him, leaning her forehead against his. With greedy breaths, she inhaled in his comforting sandalwood and spice scent, deprived of his closeness for weeks.
He grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, before splaying it over his heart. Wrapping an arm around her, he drew her close. Layna nuzzled into his neck, a small sigh escaping her.
Moons, how she had missed him.
“It’s a big risk for you to come to the Summit. You’ll lose the anonymity you’ve had,” she said, tracing idle patterns on his thigh.
“I could never let you come alone. Not with all the rumors. The monarchs might act reverent, but they must feel threatened by the alleged Moon Queen. Besides, there’s nowhere else I’m needed more than here.” Zarian had left the Medjai behind, told his father he wouldn’t be going on anymore missions.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, but Layna could feel it—the tension coiled beneath his skin, creeping in like an unwelcome shadow.
“Have you felt any powers since your coronation?”
“Nothing,” she reassured. “You said my eyes turned white when I read Nizam’s letter, but I didn’t feel any different. It must’ve been a trick of the light.”
Zarian didn’t look convinced. “And what about your memory? Have you remembered anything else?”
Layna sat back, a frown creasing her brow. “Last night I dreamt I was back there. On the terrace.” She swallowed deeply. “You were fighting …him. He was winning, and I was so, so afraid. I could feel the terror in my bones, in my very soul. But then you pinned him down, and you were about to kill him, I think. Then I woke up.” She worried her lower lip between her teeth. “But that doesn’t make sense. You said that my power manifested, andIkilled him.”
Zarian was silent, his fingers tapping a fast rhythm on the arm of the sofa. He finally responded with a pensive, “Hmm.” He rubbed her back slowly. “Let me know if you have any more dreams. And especially if you feel anything unusual.”
“I will.” He smiled down at her, hazel eyes warm, and her heart trembled with a relief it hadn’t known in ages.
She closed the space between them and pressed her lips to his—a tentative kiss, soft and searching, their first in what felt like lifetimes, though it had only been a few weeks.
He responded gently at first, as if relearning her, but his restraint quickly gave way to hunger. His lips moved against hers with growing urgency, and moons, he tasted exactly as she remembered—familiar, warm, utter perfection.
Her tongue brushed the seam of his lips, and he let out a low, rumbling groan, his hands tangling in her hair like he couldn’t bear another moment without touching her—as if he’d been starved without her.
She trailed her fingers higher on his thigh, pressing her luck.
But fortune didn’t favor her today.
Zarian pulled back with a pained sigh, brushing his lips against her forehead. “You should get ready for the dinner. I’ll return to get you. Don’t open the door for anyone except me.”
“Yes, yes, my fearsome prince. I won’t.” She chuckled as he playfully pinched her side, her heart feeling lighter than it had since she read Nizam’s letter.
2
Zarianstaredathisguilty reflection in the mirror, raking his fingers through his unruly hair. Layna had been dreaming of the eclipse more often lately—of what hadreallyhappened. He needed to tell her the truth. And soon.
My brother killed me that day—and I let him. I left you to fight alone because I was too weak to stop him. Oh, and you brought me back to life.
He scoffed, imagining the incredulous fire in her eyes, the sharp bite of her words when she found out he’d kept yetanothersecret. The guilt sat low and heavy in his gut, like a stone he couldn’t cough up.
With a sigh, he adjusted his new tunic in the mirror. It was a deep blue, the color of the night sky just after the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, with intricate golden embroidery slithering all over it. The stiff collar chafed against his neck, and the unyielding fabric constricted his movements.
He had asked Tinga, Layna’s overprotective handmaiden, to help him procure a new formal tunic, and she had surprisinglyagreed. Her eyes had been sympathetic, bordering on pity, and that had chafed him even more.
He didn’t normally wear such regal attire, but here he was.
A lovesick fool.
He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to tame his unruly locks into some semblance of order. Earlier, when Layna’s hand had inched up his thigh, he knew that was his sign to leave. He had only minutes before she climbed into his lap and drove him to the cusp of insanity.
He wasthis closeto throwing himself off that ledge.
