Page 132 of The Moon's Fury

A reluctant smile rose to his lips as he watched her, her brown eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Here, hold these.” Lash shoved at least half a dozen bags into his arms. “Unless all those big muscles are just for show.” Zarianleveled him with a withering glare, one that had made battle-hardened warriors hesitate.

The boy didn’t even flinch.

Instead, Lash’s gaze lingered on the new sword with something akin to longing.

The idiot boy twined his arm through Layna’s and led her off, leaving him to follow. They descended the carved stone steps back to the inn. Zarian kept his attention focused on their surroundings. His gaze repeatedly returned to the adjacent mountain, sharp eyes searching for hidden archers.

A tall, cloaked man passed, narrowed eyes focused on them. Lash avoided the man’s gaze. He continued talking to Layna, unfazed, though a stiffness had crept into his shoulders.

Zarian’s hand found his sword, muscles tensing in anticipation.

The man’s eyes slid to him, calculating.

A beat.

A flicker of hesitation.

He kept walking.

Zarian swiveled his head, ensuring the man had actually left. Refocusing ahead, he listened as Layna asked Lash about the hot springs.

“Ya’ve never seen a hot spring?” he asked incredulously. “Oh, yer in for a treat. The Mountains are full of ‘em, but they’re especially abundant on the Tarakshan side.” He stood a bit straighter, chest puffed out. “There are three large springs on this mountain alone. If ya went this way”—he gestured to a dirt path carved between two buildings—“ya’ll reach a wider path. Follow it to yer left, and ya’ll find the springs.”

He thought for a moment. “But there’s a smaller spring I think ya’ll fancy more.” He fuckingwinkedat Layna, and rage seeped into Zarian’s vision.

Lash continued, ignorant to the violence he had just invited. “It’s a bit of a trek, and the climb’s slippery, but hardly anyone uses ‘em. I’ll pack some lunch for ya, it’ll be quite the romantic scene.”

Layna glanced back at him with an excited smile, arching a brow as if to say,See? He’s not so bad.

Once they returned to the inn, Lash packed them a small basket. Lasha sat at the desk, glaring at him, but he was as impervious to her anger as he was Zarian’s.

Lash guided them down the path that had initially led them into town. After fifteen minutes, a small, hidden trail came into view. “Follow this until ya get to a fork in the path, where there’s a giant boulder. Take the right side, walk for another ten minutes or so. The mountain will start getting steeper. When ya start cursing me, ya’ll be in the right place.” He grinned at them, eliciting a small chuckle from Layna. “Climb about halfway up. There’s a ledge that leads into a cavern. And that’s it!”

“That’s it?” Zarian said drily.

“Yep.” Lash patted his shoulder as he walked by, whispering, “Don’t say I never did anything for ya.”

Lash’s directions were easy to follow, and soon, they reached the steep face of the mountain. It did, indeed, have Zarian cursing him and his entire lineage. The rocky stone slope was nearly vertical, and she understood why the other townsfolk rarely ventured here.

Shielding his eyes against the bright sunlight, Zarian assessed the climb.

“After you, my love.” He gestured to the mountain. “Climb slowly. Make sure the rocks are stable before putting your weight on them.”

She took hold of a sharp rock that jutted out and began the ascent. After a quarter of the way, she loosed the breath she was holding, but didn’t dare glance down.

Panting, she eventually reached the ledge Lash had described, the distant burbling of water welcoming her. Zarian climbed up behind her. Hands entwined, they walked into the cavern, the sound of water growing louder the deeper they ventured.

The narrow passage opened into a larger cavern. The ceiling stretched high, and there must have been hundreds of tiny openings because beams of sunlight filtered through, glittering on the tan walls. The spring itself was encircled by rock and elevated from where they stood. A cascade of water flowed off into the small pool before them.

The cinnamon walls of the cavern glittered, twinkling with every turn of her head. Zarian quickly shed his clothes, and her eyes unashamedly drank in his large, muscled form as he entered the pool, wading until he reached the center, the rippling water lapping at his neck. There was a wide, genuine smile on his face when he turned around. Her heart stuttered.

“I hate to say it, but I might have to thank Lash,” he said ruefully. “What are you waiting for?”

She bit her lip, nervously eying the rippling surface.

“Zarian, I can’t swim. I didn’t realize the water would be so deep.”