Page 70 of The Moon's Fury
“You would have just left her? That poor, beaten child?”
“Breathe, Layna.”
Fury contorted within her, the raging power inside desperate for an outlet.
She was powerless against it.
She took another step toward him, jabbing her searing finger into his chest. He didn’t so much as flinch.
“How did I fall in love with a man like you?” she demanded in a voice that was both her own and not.
He recoiled as if she struck him.
His face—moons, his face—looked as if she’d torn out his heart and stomped it beneath her boots.
It was his face that cut through the fog of her anger, that silenced her raging power. Immediately, she wanted to take the cruel words back, pluck them from the air and smother them before they reached his ears. She didn’t know why she had even uttered them.
Her heart knew the words to be false, that had to be why it was beating at her chest in outrage.
He took another step back, staring at her with such anguished eyes, it rent her soul in half. She opened her mouth to speak, but he turned away and opened the door.
Layna braced for a loud slam, but the door clicked shut softly, quiet and defeated.
Heartbroken.
She stood there for what felt like hours after he left, numb and alone. Vaguely, she realized that, despite her rage, her light hadn’t escaped her body and harmed Zarian.
Not physically, anyway.
She paced the room, waiting and watching the door, flaking driedhennafrom her palms, until hours actually did pass, but Zarian did not return.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and she lay on the bed and sobbed and sobbed until merciful sleep embraced her.
32
Sheawokealone,brightsunlight streaming in across her face.
The other side of the bed was cold, untouched.
Zarian had not returned.
Did he leave me here?
Did I wound him so deeply that it obliterated his love?
Her heart hammered against ribs, each beat echoing her growing anxiety. The silence suffocated her, wrapped around her lungs like a vise and squeezed. Her eyes scanned the room again and again and again as if she might conjure him with sheer force of will.
Layna rose from the bed. She paced anxiously, her eyes repeatedly drifting to the door. It remained stubbornly shut.
With a sigh, she used the washroom, splashed water over her face, and changed out of last night’s abaya. She lingered for a moment, hoping that if she wasted enough time, Zarian would be waiting for her when she emerged.
But there was still no sign of him when she finally mustered the courage.
She dropped onto the sofa, unsure what to do. Should she go looking for him?His anguished face flitted in her mind, his eyes swirling with hurt. Resignation.
Shewas the real monster, not the Daughter.
Layna lost track of how much time she wallowed on the sofa before the thud of boots sounded in the hallway.
