Page 116 of The Moon's Fury
“There are liniments in the pack, my love.”
With efficient, clinical hands, she wrapped the wounds.
“Thank you, love.”
She only gave him her silence.
He watched as she repacked the supplies. Grimacing, he hefted the large wolf away from their campsite and began to skin it. Movement flashed at the corner of his eye.
Layna was laying down the bedroll, preparing for sleep.
“We—we didn’t even eat yet,” he said, exasperated.
“I’m not hungry.”
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Zarianhadbeenright—thejourneywasbrutal. On steeper areas, she’d dismount from Najoom and walk. Her legs and calves ached at the end of each day. It was grueling. But with each step, they drew closer to her goal—reaching the Grand Libraries.
Except Zarian seemed intent on stretching out their journey. He’d make them stop frequently for breaks, though it was clear his goal was to coax her into conversation.
She looked down from where she rode on Najoom and justknewhe was about to announce their third break in as many hours.
“Let’s rest here.”
Right on time.
“No.”
He ignored her. He whistled and said, “Stop, Naj.” Immediately, Najoom halted.
“This is ridiculous! You barely let us catch a breath between Alzahra and Janta!” She kicked at Najoom’s sides, urging him tomove, but the vexingly obedient horse just snorted, shaking his head in refusal.
“I find the mountain air far more refreshing. No harm in taking our time.” He smirked, casting her a knowing glance, “And we’re all alone up here—no Medjai lurking in the shadows, no one breathing down our necks. Is it so bad that I want to savor a little peace with the woman I love?”
His words were meant to soften her, but they just pissed her off even more. She dismounted and jabbed a finger into his chest. “You said you’d follow me anywhere. Why are you dragging your feet? It’s like you don’t evenwantto reach Thessan.”
He dislodged her finger from his chest and kissed the tip.
“Iwillfollow you anywhere. But I never said when.” He smirked again, and moons, it enraged her.
Was this some kind of game to him?
Seething, she hauled back and punched him in the stomach. It felt like hitting a brick wall. Her wrist throbbed painfully, but her blow didn’t even faze him.
“Good, that was good,” he said, grinning at her. “Here, let me show you how—”
With an angry roar, she punched him again. And again and again. She beat at his chest and shoulders and abdomen, and he let her. She raged and screamed, his firm chest and abdomen unyielding beneath her blows.
When her arms grew tired, she let them dangle at her sides, panting heavily as she stared at the unshakable man before her.
Then, she pulled his face down and forced her mouth to his.
She kissed him as if it were a battle, biting his lip and tongue until she drew blood. The coppery tang filled her mouth and urged her on. She kissed him harder, and he responded in kind, his hands gripping her waist. Her tongue pressed past his lips, fighting him for dominance.
And he let her have it.
Layna grew impatient, the rage in her veins mingling with need. She pressed on his shoulders until he kneeled before her, and she joined him on the ground, tugging at his clothing. Layna pushed him onto his back, and he went down easily. She took her pleasure from him, head thrown back with abandon, his hands gripping her hips, helping her move.
