Page 120 of The Moon's Fury

And Mama and Baba—

Her heart cracked as an icy wave crashed into her.

Her imaginary child would never know a single grandparent.

Cold, merciless grief clawed at her heart, threatening to tear it into ribbons. It rose up like a sandstorm, ravaging her emotions in an unforgiving wave.

It hurt.

Itfuckinghurt.

She wanted nothing more than to escape it, to be free from its dark depths. Anger, she knew, would help her stay afloat.

She drew in a deep breath, greedily sucking in air until her lungs begged for release. But Layna held it inside, keeping the oxygen captive until her heart slowed. Only when the pressure became unbearable did she finally release it.

Blinking back tears, she glanced at Zarian. His attention lingered on the tea, every movement slow and measured. But she knew better—he was always aware of her. He just wasn’t pushing. And for that, she was grateful. He was giving her the space to pull herself back together on her own.

Wordlessly, he brought her the tea and sat beside her, blowing cool air over the steaming purple surface. It was a metal cup, the only material suited for such travel. If it burned his hands, he didn’t show it, but he didn’t let her immediately take the cup either.

When he finally handed it to her, the metal was pleasantly warm, and she accepted it with a grateful smile. In between sips, she quietly asked, “Will you spar with me after breakfast?”

His hazel eyes trailed over her face for a moment before his lips curled into a slow, lazy smirk. “Only if you aren’t a sore loser when I win.” Rolling her eyes, she swatted his shoulder.

“Arrogant man.” A chuckle rumbled through him, and a genuine smile lit her face.

Their routine remained the same, except now she embraced it when Zarian called for a break. They’d alternate sparring with swords, her dagger, and bare hands, each round leaving her breathless. Zarian never went easy on her, and by nightfall,her body ached from both the grueling journey and constantly being knocked flat on her back. It only stung a little less when he pinned her beneath him and made her forget just how thoroughly he’d bested her.

Shewasimproving, though. Panting, she ducked and narrowly avoided the fist aimed at her face. Spinning quickly, she crouched and aimed a kick behind his knees, but Zarian stepped forward and easily avoided her swipe. When he turned, she lunged, forcing him to grab her as she knocked them to the ground, hands squeezing his neck. Breathing heavily, she demanded, “Did you let me win?”

“No,” he wheezed, raising his hands in surrender. She huffed and let him up, not quite believing him. “That was good. Next time, don’t hesitate. When you have me down, throttle me out of my senses.”

She frowned. “I don’tactuallywant to hurt you.”

“You need to build muscle memory. No hesitation in a real battle. Even a second could mean your life. Or your death.”

They sat, and Zarian handed her a canteen. “We’re three days from Tarakshan. You’ll stand out in yourniqabthere, so we’ll need to be extra vigilant without it.”

“Your vigilance has varying degrees? I thought it was just ‘terrify anyone who dares glance at Layna?’” she teased with a grin.

He scowled, lightly pinching her side as he took a deep swig.

That night, after dinner, Zarian grabbed her hand and tugged her up.

“I want to show you something.” He pulled out a small lantern from his pack, giving Najoom a firm pat.

He held out his arm as if he were escorting her to a ball, and she took it with a smile.

“Where are we going?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the ground to avoid tripping over rocks or gnarled roots that twisted underfoot like thick, brown snakes.

“I can’t tell you all my secrets,” he murmured. “But you’ll like it.” With sure steps, he guided her up the mountainside.

They didn’t climb long, already high up on the mountain, and soon, the steep terrain leveled off, the dense trees thinning out.

Her breath left her.

Millions and millions of bright stars twinkled in a glittering sea of possibility, her first unobstructed view of the open sky in weeks. The proud, full moon hung overhead, a regal monarch amidst its subjects. Shades of indigo and deep blue streaked the inky night. Layna had never seen the stars this close, this bright.

She must have stared for minutes before the night’s sky reluctantly released her from its thrall, and her gaze slid downward.