Page 143 of The Moon's Fury

“I know.” Heavy footsteps led him to the bed where he sat, cradling his head in his hands. A long, pained sigh escaped him before he raked a rough hand through his unruly hair. “Tell me what he said.”

“He met a ‘recruiter’ in the tavern. The man said they can work for a few months in Valtisaan and make enough money to pay off their debt.” She crossed the room, standing in front of him. Sharp stabs of worry shot through her gut as she thought about the fate awaiting him should he leave for Valtisaan.

Zarian tugged her closer until she stood between his knees. He kissed her palm and splayed it over his chest. “I’ll head to the tavern tonight and handle this.”

“I’ll go with you.”

His brows knit together, and she knew he was about to refuse.

She cut him off before he could. “I canhelp. You’ve been training me. I can take care of myselfandyou.”

“I know you can.” His voice was gentle, and he widened his knees and pulled her deeper into the vee they created. “There’s no one I’d rather have guarding my back than you.”

“But?” She scowled.

“Women stay indoors at night in Tarakshan,” he reminded. “Every eye will be on you. It’ll be difficult to blend in.” He pressed a kiss to her ribs. “But it’s up to you. If you decide to come, we’ll figure out a plan that works.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line. As much as she wanted to mangle this vile man luring innocent boys to their deaths, Zarian was right. A woman out at night, risking madness or angry mountain spirits, would draw unwanted attention, even in herniqab.

“Make him suffer.”

It had been thirty minutes since Zarian left. Layna paced another circuit around the room, wearing a path in the woven rug. Her chest tightened, a weight pressing over her lungs, heavy and suffocating.

Hands wringing together, she headed downstairs until her light footsteps brought her to the kitchen. Lash was stirring a large pot over the stove, while Lasha stood at the other counter, kneading something in a large bowl, streaks of flour painting her forearms.

She cleared her throat. Two sets of eyes snapped to her.

“Zem went out. I thought I might help?”

The siblings were silent for several heartbeats, before Lash beamed. “Of course! Come stir the soup. I’ll be back in alash.” He guided her to the stove and placed the spoon in her hand. “Make sure ya scrape the bottom.” He gave Lasha—who wasstaring at them with pursed lips—a pointed look before leaving the kitchen.

The two women quickly averted their gazes, each focusing on their respective task. The soup smelled incredible—a creamy broth with chunks of carrot, meat, and the potatoes she’d helped peel. An awkward silence settled between them, broken only by the rhythmic scrape of the wooden ladle as Layna focused intently on not ruining dinner.

Lasha cleared her throat. “Um. I wanted to apologize.” Her words were stilted. “For how I acted when ya first arrived. It was—uh, inappropriate. And I’m sorry.”

Layna’s hand stilled. “I appreciate that.” She stared at the soup, willing the words in her heart to pass through her lips. “Lash told me everything you’ve done for him. I can’t imagine how difficult it’s been, managing the inn and taking care of him. Alone.”

She turned to Lasha, finally meeting her gaze.

The other woman stood frozen, seemingly at a loss for words. “Thank you,” she finally said quietly. Lasha turned away, but Layna didn’t miss how she surreptitiously wiped her eyes.

“I’m the eldest, too,” Layna added softly. “It’s difficult and lonely, and my entire life, I felt crushed beneath impossible expectations. But crumbling was never an option. Because there were people who depended on me. I just—I know what it’s like. And I’m sorry you have to go through it alone.”

Lasha listened quietly, her breathing slow.

When she turned, her eyes were clear. Her watery smile was genuine, a peace offering, and Layna smiled back, accepting the truce.

Lasha sniffled, gesturing to the door. “Let’s go find my idiot brother and have dinner.”

56

Scrape.

Scrape.

Scrape.

Consciousness returned to Wilzad before his senses. Fuck, his head was pounding.What the fuck happened?He groaned, the pain in his head splitting his skull in half. He tried to swallow, but his throat felt like he’d swallowed half a desert.