Page 10 of The Moon's Fury

Zarian’s mouth ticked up at the corner, and he arched an eyebrow at Ebric, as if daring him to say something. Ebric finally tore his gaze away and stared at the floor.

King Farzin cleared his throat. “Let’s get to it then. Faimal, Tamzin and Ebric, the monarchs have agreed to the terms of your penance. Valtisaan and Ezanek are hereby commanded to repay your blood debts to Alzahra with crops, weapons, and gold. Both your kingdoms must sign peace treaties with Alzahra and agree to never attack unprovoked again. Valtisaan must also send architects and resources to aid in Alzahra’s reconstruction.” Tamzin scowled but remained silent. “State your acceptance of the monarchs’ decree.”

Their answering silence was deafening.

Layna glared at the defiant men, her fingers drumming impatiently on the table.

Her anger rose in a violent tide.

Inhale.Exhale.

Zarian’s words flitted through her mind once more.

Show no weakness.

“I accept,” Faimal said. He finally looked at Layna and added, “Queen Layna, please accept my apology for our actions in the war. Jorah painted an irresistible picture, and well, I let greed rule my decisions.” Layna scowled, hands clenching into fists.

“And you, Tamzin?” prompted Farzin.

“I … accept,” he said begrudgingly.

He did not offer an apology.

Hot waves of anger roiled inside her, pulsing in her ears. It was all she could do to refrain from shouting.

The fucking nerve—

“Good,” said Farzin, pulling her from her thoughts. “The details of the deals and treaties will be sorted between your respective councils. Now the matter of Zephyria.”

Lord Ebric visibly swallowed as all eyes swung to him. He looked as if he’d willingly walk into a raging sandstorm than face his judgment. “Queen Layna demands gold, crops, and land. The monarchs hereby abolish rule through bloodline in Zephyria. You will serve as king for a five-year term. If your actions are unsatisfactory, then the monarchs will remove you. State your acceptance of our terms.”

“I … I accept,” he stuttered, nervous gaze landing on Zarian again.

“Very well. It is decreed. And I suppose you’re King Ebric now.”

Ebric did not look very happy about it.

6

Themiddaysunskimmedover her back, a gentle, pleasant warmth akin to a tender embrace. Beside her, her two red-faced friends made quick work of the tall stalks of wheat dancing in the cool breeze. Her dark-haired companion, the tallest of the trio, wiped sweat from her brow, her brown eyes sparkling as she gestured toward the dense wood behind them.

She didn’t need to look. She knew exactly who her friend had seen.

Unbidden, her body pivoted, eyes searching until—

She caught sight of him.

The wind played through the strands of his honey-colored hair, bright sunlight winking at her in his dark eyes. He wore no shirt, a sheen of sweat coating his tanned skin, an axe slung carelessly over his shoulder. Behind him, a wagon packed with chopped wood creaked noisily, as if protesting its heavy load.

Sensing her gaze, or perhaps waiting for it, his eyes found hers. His full lips curved into a wide grin, and he raised a hand in greeting.

She spun back around, and her friends tittered at the deep blush darkening her cheeks, though she blamed the sun and its unrelenting heat.

The carriage ride back to Alzahra had unfolded very differently from the tense, silent journey to Adrik, and moons, was Layna grateful.

Zarian’s lips moved firmly over hers, his tongue teasing her lips until she parted them. His arms were wrapped tightly around her, fingers pressing into her back. By now, her lips were pleasantly swollen from his kisses. He had hauled her into his lap as soon as the carriage began moving, eager to make up for lost time, it seemed.

Her breath hitched as he deftly flipped her around, her back pressed flush against his muscled chest. Zarian gripped her jaw as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck, tugging the sleeve of her gown out of the way as he continued to her shoulder.