Page 79 of The Moon's Fury

He slipped under his blankets, and she did the same. They faced each other, gazes locked. Her eyes were wide. She bid him goodnight, then rolled to face away.

Her short hair had grown out during their journey, and it splayed around her head like a crown. His eyes traced the back of her head, the long line of her neck. She stretched, and he greedily tracked the movement. Her shoulder sloped delicately, the rest of her arm disappearing beneath the blanket.

If only Almeer had actually been a spy, like Alzahra’s palace guards had suspected. Then, he’d be dead, and maybe Soraya would welcome it if he peeled back her blanket and covered her body with his own.What sounds would she make? What would her skin taste like? Would she—

Moons, what the fuck was he doing?

Hadiyah had been right to make him sleep with the horses.

With a heavy sigh, he turned away.

It was a long time before sleep found him.

35

Abeadofsweatrolleddown her back as she hurried through the familiar cobblestone streets. Tan buildings with glass displays stretched around her, shops selling books and parchment and quills.

Burhani tugged her shawl farther over her head. She was probably being overly cautious. It was unlikely anyone would recognize her.

Not after all these years.

Despite herself, her footsteps slowed as she passed the street where she used to live with her mother. Her feet moved of their own accord until she stood before the large building, its face bedecked with colorful clothes drying on balconies and large windows that reflected bright sunlight into her eyes.

Because it was the sunlight that was causing her to blink rapidly. Just the fucking sunlight.

The home she’d shared with Mama was on the third floor. Burhani stared at the balcony, as though her mother might open the door and step out into the open air if she waited long enough.

The balcony did open, and she gasped.

But it was an unfamiliar woman that emerged, laying out her children’s clean, wet clothes over the black railing, as Mama had once done.

Before the illness killed her.

Before Ebrahim uprooted her from her home and education and herlifeand dragged her to Alzahra.

Burhani pulled her shawl across her face and stalked back to the main street. There was no time to feel sorry for herself.

Fucking Layna.

This was all her fault.

It wasn’t enough that she was a crown princess, raised in an opulent palace, showered with riches.

It wasn’t enough that she had wanted fornothingher entire life.

It wasn’t enough that Layna had a loyal sister, a healthy mother, andtwofathers.

She had to be the fucking Daughter of the Moon, too.

Burning rage, fueled by hatred, coursed through Burhani’s veins. Fucking Layna who had blasted Ebrahim with light and knocked the elderly man to the ground.

The man who had raised Layna instead of his own daughter.

Mama never told him about you, her conscious whispered, and it was becoming harder and harder to ignore the reasonable words.

In her heart, she knew Ebrahim was a good man. He’d spent the last few years in Alzahra trying to make up for lost time, to help her build a home there. He’d encouraged Layna and Soraya to befriend her, and they had tried several times in the beginning.

She couldn’t deny that.