Page 170 of The Moon's Fury

Moons, this man. They’d spent every waking moment together for months and months, and still, he made her knees weak.

“Good.” His teeth found her earlobe, tugging gently. “I just remembered. I forgot to show you something in our bedroom,” he murmured, his tongue hot on her neck.

“Oh? And what might that be?” she breathed, tilting her head to give him better access. His teeth scraped against her collarbone, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

“Paradise,” he growled in her ear. “But you’ll need to get on your knees first.”

69

Aftertheyproperlybrokein their bed, they sat outside by the firepit and ate the food that Marwon, or his wife more likely, had given them—dried fish, an incredibly sweet, star-shaped fruit, and soft, fluffy bread.

Moons, he had missed fish.

Layna seemed to enjoy it as well, which was a relief—it was the primary staple in the island diet.

She was pensive, watching the waves lap against the shore, a crease marring her brow.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll give you a kiss.” He winked at her, hoping to coax a smile. “Anywhere you want.”

She didn’t roll her eyes, as he’d hoped, or even shoot him a mock glare. His teasing comment only elicited the faintest of smiles, there and gone in the space between heartbeats.

He stood, dusting crumbs from his lap, and held out his hand. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Fingers intertwined, they walked down the beach. The sun was just beginning to set, the sand pleasantly warm. He traced patterns on her lower back, waiting for her to share her worries.

The island was a big change.

“I miss Soraya,” she finally whispered. “For months, we’ve been running. She’s always been on my mind, but now”—she gestured to the vast, open water—“there’s an entire sea between us. Somehow, it hurts more. Like the distance is insurmountable. We’re farther apart than ever.” Her voice cracked at the end, and twin fissures splintered his heart. He pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

“They’ll find their way to us, love,” he murmured into her hair. “Jamil will have gotten my message. He knows the way.”

“What if they don’t?”

“Then we’ll go back to the continent and find them. And I’ll knock Jamil’s teeth in for making you worry.” She laughed then, a soft, broken sound. “But let’s give them a month or so to catch up, all right?”

She nodded, giving him a watery smile. He brushed a kiss to her forehead. “Let’s head back and get ready.”

“Ready?” Her brow furrowed, and he realized in the excitement of the day, he’d forgotten to tell her.

“Marwon invited us for dinner.”

Layna’s heart was thundering in her chest, yet she couldn’t discern why. It was just a simple dinner. She’d been less nervous at Summits and royal balls and formal banquets. Still, as she smoothed the fabric of her only abaya—the blue and green one they’d purchased in Sendouk—her heart somersaulted in her chest as they walked the short distance to Marwon’s villa.

Zarian held a small arrangement of flowers in his hand. They’d picked them together from a nearby wildflower field after she insisted they not arrive empty-handed.

He rapped on the door.

It opened almost immediately, revealing Marwon’s smiling, tanned face. “Saldeh!” he greeted, ushering them inside. “Kolo mai, kolo mai.”

The layout of Marwon’s villa was identical to Zarian’s, though that’s where the similarities stopped.

This home was lived in.

The faint scent of coconut oil lingered in the air, clinging to woven cushions and linen throws draped over the sofas. Wooden toys littered the floor—a small rattle, carved from driftwood; a woven doll; a handful of wooden animals, their features marred with tiny teeth marks.

A woman came to greet them, whom Marwon introduced as Kylah. She was a head shorter than Layna, her dark braid reaching her waist. Her bright linen dress was strapless, and her legs were bare below her knees. Peeking out from behind her was a little girl, the spitting image of Marwon, with dark springy curls and bright green eyes. She looked about three or four years old. Perched on Kylah’s hip was another baby girl, whose wary, brown eyes were fixed on Zarian.

Kylah ushered them over to the round dining table, where she had already laid out dinner, and Layna’s mouth watered at the delectable aromas. Kylah piled her plate high with steamed rice and roasted fish and seasoned plantains.