Page 1 of The Moon’s Fury (Moon & Sands #2)

T he carriage jolted as it crossed from dirt to stone. Layna clutched the cushioned seat, bracing herself for the next bump as the back wheels followed. Drawing the curtain aside, she peered through the small window in the door, squinting against the bright sunlight.

The towering, stone walls of the kingdom of Adrik came into view. Neighbor to Alzahra, Adrik was known for its opulent palace and thriving trade in precious gems. Their carriage slowed as it joined the line of entrants into the city, a blend of merchants, travelers, and other royal visitors.

The carriage lurched again, and her knees bumped sharply against Zarian’s. He briefly looked up from where he sat across from her, but didn’t say a word, only adjusted his position so his long legs didn’t take up as much space.

Layna sighed. It had been a long carriage ride.

She began to slide the curtain open further when Zarian reached out and tugged it shut.

“Leave it closed. Let’s not fuel any more rumors about you,” he said gruffly.

She huffed. “Are you finally speaking to me, then?” Crossing her arms over her chest, lips set grimly, she glared at him.

“Of course I am,” he responded absently, looking everywhere but her. “When have I not been speaking to you?” He pulled back the curtain on the opposite window and glanced outside.

“I thought we should leave it closed.”

“ You should leave it closed,” Zarian corrected as he peered outside, likely looking for hidden threats. His search was cut short when Layna shot forward and yanked the curtain closed.

He glowered at her, a muscle ticking in his jaw. A deep sigh escaped him as he settled back into the carriage seat.

“Can we finally talk?” Layna asked, hands gripping the burgundy seat cushions. “You’ve been cold and brooding ever since…”

Zarian arched an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

She sighed. “Ever since I agreed to a royal visit from Nizam.”

“I don’t have anything to say.” He crossed his muscled arms over his chest, turning his face firmly away from her. “I told you before, I won’t make your choice difficult.”

“For moon’s sake, Zarian! I agreed to a visit, not a marriage .” Her eyes blazed in a heated glare.

He was silent for several heartbeats, the muscle still pulsing furiously in his cheek. When he finally looked at her, there was a storm of emotions in his eyes: anger, resignation, and sorrow.

“Not yet,” he said quietly.

Layna opened her mouth, but the carriage jolted to a halt.

They had arrived.

Zarian opened the door and stepped down. She ignored his proffered hand and dismounted herself.

The Adrik palace loomed before them, its towering facade of gray, glittering stone stretching out on either side as far as she could see.

Atop a grand staircase, each step wide enough for a dozen men, the massive double doors shone brilliantly, the dark wood coated to an unnatural shine.

Black domes crowned the tall minarets, their surfaces so polished they reflected the clouds.

The Alzahran carriages lined up neatly in the massive courtyard, a large decorative fountain burbling behind them. In its center was a large statue of King Farzin, the current Adriki monarch.

“Stay close,” Zarian murmured into her ear, placing a hand on her lower back. “And show no weakness. The monarchs will be watching you closely.”

Layna rolled her eyes. How typical for him to only touch her when he was concerned for her safety. She wanted nothing more than to greedily lean into his touch.

Instead, she watched as their remaining party slowly dismounted.

There were three carriages filled only with guards.

Zarian would take no risks when it came to her.

Lord Ebrahim eased down from the last carriage.

The brilliant sun reflected off his spectacles.

He came to stand beside her, passing an affectionate hand over her head.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest.

He was the only one who did that now.

“Was your ride pleasant?” Lord Ebrahim asked, running a hand over his short, white beard.

She smiled tightly, watching as Zarian gave instructions to the palace guards.

The heavily armed men surrounded them, a solid barrier of muscle and leather and steel until she couldn’t even see over the towering men encircling her.

They walked through the courtyard toward the palace, Layna, Zarian and Ebrahim nestled within the blockade of guards. She took in the magnificent palace, twisting ivy creeping up the tall, stone walls.

It had been a good choice for the Summit.

The large wooden doors opened, and the group stepped into a grand foyer. Black marble gleamed beneath their feet, and an enormous crystal chandelier, larger than she had ever seen, dangled high above their heads. The circle of guards parted, and she stepped forward, Zarian and Ebrahim close behind.

“Queen Layna! Welcome to our humble kingdom,” boomed a tall man, cloaked in dark robes and draped in layers of gem-laden necklaces.

His close-cropped black beard framed a face marked by dark, kohl-lined eyes that watched her keenly.

He bowed, the chandelier light glinting off his bald head.

As he rose, his eyes lingered on her sword, belted over her gown.

“Welcome. I am Lord Meyteen, senior advisor to King Farzin.”

“Your kingdom has our gratitude for hosting the Summit,” replied Layna. Her fingers quivered at her sides, anxiety churning in her gut. Show no weakness . She forced authority into her tone, adding, “King Farzin was otherwise occupied?”

“Unfortunately,” simpered Lord Meyteen, his lips thinning in an apologetic smile. “Much left to plan for tomorrow. Otherwise, even the moon couldn’t have stopped him from greeting you personally.” His shrewd gaze flitted behind her.

Layna followed his glance. “This is Prince Zarian of the Nahrysba Oasis. And I understand you’ve already met my senior adviser, Lord Ebrahim.”

Lord Meyteen’s eyes gleamed, raking over Zarian with cold precision. “Ah, Prince Zarian. What an unexpected honor—your first royal event, no less. You’ve kept yourself tucked away for so long, one might have thought you prefer it that way. King Tahriq sent word you would be attending in his stead.”

“Unfortunately,” Zarian repeated in a long drawl, feigning boredom. “It’s ‘well past time’ I embrace my princely duties.”

Lord Meyteen’s gaze sharpened, gesturing to a servant who presented a black velvet jewelry case.

“As a token of goodwill, please accept this humble gift from the kingdom of Adrik.” He opened the case to reveal a sparkling silver necklace. The large pendant was the shape of a crescent moon, carved from an iridescent white stone. Glimmers of green and blue and purple sparkled in the light.

Moonstone.

Layna smiled tightly. “It’s beautiful. You have Alzahra’s thanks.”

Lord Meyteen handed the case over to one of the guards. “Allow me to show you to your rooms.” He turned swiftly, dark robes billowing around him. They walked through two smaller foyers and up a large winding staircase.

“Have the other monarchs arrived?” Layna asked as they walked down a long corridor lined with servants, passing yet more statues of King Farzin.

“Some, yes, but we are still awaiting a handful. Queen Rhapsin of Thessan and King Petragh of Minhypas. You must know already that your grandfather, King Dharaid of Shahbaad, was unable to attend. The unrest … it’s a shame. I’ve heard even more palace guards have resigned.”

Layna nodded stiffly. The situation had been growing worse in Shahbaad—she, Ebrahim and her mother had discussed it at length. Guards had been resigning left and right, but there was no clear indication why.

She glanced at Zarian; his hand had not left the hilt of his sword since they stepped out of the carriage, and his eyes constantly scanned their surroundings.

“Ah, and King Nizam of Baysaht,” Lord Meyteen added, turning to appraise her. “He should be arriving soon.”

Zarian tensed beside her, his hand tightening on his sword. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but he kept his eyes forward. She almost ran into Lord Meyteen’s back when he stopped abruptly.

“This will be your room.” Lord Meyteen opened a large door and gestured inside.

“Prince Zarian’s room is next to yours, and Lord Ebrahim’s is the next one down.

There are servants stationed everywhere.

Please ask them for anything you might need.

There will be a dinner tonight welcoming all the monarchs. ”

The adviser bowed and disappeared down the hall. Layna began to walk into her room, but Zarian cut in front and entered first. She rolled her eyes as he scoured the room for potential threats. He checked the washroom, the closets, behind the curtains, and even under the bed.

Layna’s frustration slowly melted the longer she watched him. He was meticulous in his search, and she knew it was because he loved her.

Even his recent coldness, she knew, was because he loved her. She watched him quietly as he finished.

“All clear?” Layna asked with a teasing grin.

“It would appear so.” He didn’t return her smile. “I’ve stationed four guards outside your room. Don’t wander off alone. And I’ll be right next door. Shout if anything happens.” He turned to leave, but Layna grabbed his arm.

“Will you stay a moment?” He hesitated, and a sharp pain twisted her heart. “Please?” Her lower lip quivered. His hazel eyes fixed on her face, and what looked like guilt passed through them.

“All right.” He sat down on a small sofa, and Layna nestled closely beside him, her arm pressed against his. She placed a tender hand on his cheek. He was stiff under her touch, like the unyielding bark of the Dhara tree.

“Zarian, please. You have nothing to worry about. I’m not going to marry Nizam. We don’t even know if that’s what he wants.” He didn’t remove her hand, and a spark of hope lit within her. “This distance between us is tearing into my soul,” she added, her voice cracking.

Zarian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tightly.

He was silent for several heartbeats before he finally spoke.

“Forgive me. I’ve been a jealous wretch.

But you know your mother doesn’t approve of us.

And neither does the council. They would love nothing more than for you to marry Nizam.

And for me to be swallowed by the desert.

” His proud shoulders slumped as he stared at his lap, and Layna wished she could erase his doubts.

“I don’t care.” She pressed closer into him, leaning her forehead against his. With greedy breaths, she inhaled in his comforting sandalwood and spice scent, deprived of his closeness for weeks.

He grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, before splaying it over his heart. Wrapping an arm around her, he drew her close. Layna nuzzled into his neck, a small sigh escaping her.

Moons, how she had missed him.

“It’s a big risk for you to come to the Summit. You’ll lose the anonymity you’ve had,” she said, tracing idle patterns on his thigh.

“I could never let you come alone. Not with all the rumors. The monarchs might act reverent, but they must feel threatened by the alleged Moon Queen. Besides, there’s nowhere else I’m needed more than here.

” Zarian had left the Medjai behind, told his father he wouldn’t be going on anymore missions.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, but Layna could feel it—the tension coiled beneath his skin, creeping in like an unwelcome shadow.

“Have you felt any powers since your coronation?”

“Nothing,” she reassured. “You said my eyes turned white when I read Nizam’s letter, but I didn’t feel any different. It must’ve been a trick of the light.”

Zarian didn’t look convinced. “And what about your memory? Have you remembered anything else?”

Layna sat back, a frown creasing her brow.

“Last night I dreamt I was back there. On the terrace.” She swallowed deeply.

“You were fighting … him . He was winning, and I was so, so afraid. I could feel the terror in my bones, in my very soul. But then you pinned him down, and you were about to kill him, I think. Then I woke up.” She worried her lower lip between her teeth.

“But that doesn’t make sense. You said that my power manifested, and I killed him. ”

Zarian was silent, his fingers tapping a fast rhythm on the arm of the sofa. He finally responded with a pensive, “Hmm.” He rubbed her back slowly. “Let me know if you have any more dreams. And especially if you feel anything unusual.”

“I will.” He smiled down at her, hazel eyes warm, and her heart trembled with a relief it hadn’t known in ages.

She closed the space between them and pressed her lips to his—a tentative kiss, soft and searching, their first in what felt like lifetimes, though it had only been a few weeks.

He responded gently at first, as if relearning her, but his restraint quickly gave way to hunger. His lips moved against hers with growing urgency, and moons, he tasted exactly as she remembered—familiar, warm, utter perfection.

Her tongue brushed the seam of his lips, and he let out a low, rumbling groan, his hands tangling in her hair like he couldn’t bear another moment without touching her—as if he’d been starved without her.

She trailed her fingers higher on his thigh, pressing her luck.

But fortune didn’t favor her today.

Zarian pulled back with a pained sigh, brushing his lips against her forehead. “You should get ready for the dinner. I’ll return to get you. Don’t open the door for anyone except me.”

“Yes, yes, my fearsome prince. I won’t.” She chuckled as he playfully pinched her side, her heart feeling lighter than it had since she read Nizam’s letter.