Page 138 of The Moon's Fury
Kharteen ignored him, his bemused gaze sliding to Soraya.
She had stepped past the safety of Jamil’s body and was stalking toward Almeer and his family, snatching up a fallen dagger on her way. Three pairs of eyes fixed upon her—hateful, fearful, and remorseful.
Kharteen made to follow, but Jamil held him back.
Soraya stared at the men.
They stared back.
Almeer opened his mouth and—
She flung the dagger.
All three spineless men ducked, but needn’t have. The dagger burrowed itself into the dirt at Almeer’s feet.
She turned her back on them, her regal, straight-backed posture befitting royalty.
Her hand was steady as she intertwined her fingers with his.
“Let’s go.”
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Thewindcrackedthroughthe trees, and branches splintered beneath the horses’ hooves. Jamil’s hand was warm in hers as they tore through the woods.
A torn strip of her tunic served as a makeshift bandage, hastily wrapped around his side. The wound must have burned, but he barely flinched, moving with an almost unnerving steadiness.
Kharteen kept glancing at her, sharp and fleeting, and her skin prickled with awareness. The large man cleared his throat.
“Jamil, we should—”
“Later.” Jamil’s footsteps didn’t falter. “Keep moving.”
They made it to their campsite and packed in record time. Kharteen’s large white horse was tied to a thick tree trunk, right next to Ahmar. They mounted their steeds and disappeared into the clear, dark night.
Soraya tightened her grip around Jamil’s waist, resting her head on his shoulder, bracing against the brisk wind. It was freeing, to let herself be so close to him without even a sliver of guilt.
Her heart twisted at Almeer’s family’s betrayal. They would have never accepted her, acceptedthem.
She waited for the ache, for grief to coil around her heart—but it never did.
There was only relief.
Only hope.
She melted against Jamil’s warmth, smiling as he brought her hand to his lips, as if sealing a promise.
After hours on horseback, Jamil finally deemed it safe to stop for the night. As soon as they dismounted, Kharteen swiftly built a fire, its glow flickering against the dark. They settled around it, the warmth a welcome relief from the long, cold ride.
“Now,” Jamil said. “Tell us everything.”
Kharteen’s hazel eyes darted to her again, and he rubbed the back of his neck.
“The elders have been sowing unrest in Shahbaad,” he said, measuring every word. She furrowed her brow, but Jamilgestured impatiently for him to continue. “They suspected Zarian and Layna would seek refuge there, with her grandfather.”
A shiver of pure dread snaked through her body.
“Is Layna okay?” Her whispered words brimmed with fear.
