Page 25 of The Moon’s Fury (Moon & Sands #2)

T here was a heavy arm draped over her side, and somehow, she knew she was safe beneath its weight. Gentle fingers stroked over her head in a featherlight caress.

She was safe.

The coppery tang of blood invaded her nostrils. Her eyes snapped open. Her cheek rested against Zarian’s thigh, his trousers stiff with dried blood. Panic clawed through her until her gaze reached his face—and found bright, aware hazel eyes staring back at her.

He smiled, and she nearly cried.

Bolting upright, Layna examined his ribs with trembling fingers. His skin was coated with dried blood, but it was intact. Whole. She hadn’t dreamt it up.

She had healed him.

She checked his shoulder, running her hands over the smooth skin. Again, she traced his ribs before sliding her hands over his neck and fisting them in his hair, needing to ground herself in proof that he lived .

For his part, Zarian endured her scrutiny in silence, easily shifting this way and that. When she sat back, her eyes glistened with fresh tears.

“You did it,” he murmured. He cupped her cheek, flaking off remnants of dried blood from her nostrils. His eyebrows knit together. “How do you feel?”

She didn’t respond, gesturing instead to the canteen that lay beside him. He handed it to her, and she took a deep swig.

“How did you know I could heal?” she quietly asked.

He tore his eyes away.

“You’ve healed me before.” When he finally met her gaze, his hazel eyes were filled with remorse. “On the day of the eclipse.”

“You never mentioned that. You said you and your brother fought, but then my powers manifested. That I—I killed him.”

“That part is true,” he said slowly. “But Zaarif killed me first.”

She was sure she misheard.

“That’s impossible.”

He shook his head. “I remember it clearly. I had him pinned beneath me. I could’ve ended it, but I hesitated.

” A humorless chuckle escaped him, a hollowed husk of a laugh.

“He seized his chance and plunged a dagger through my neck. I still hear your screams in my nightmares.” His eyes looked haunted, and her instincts raged at her to hold him, to comfort him, to ease his pain.

But her mind was reeling.

“I don’t … I don’t understand.”

He reached for her hand, and she let him intertwine their fingers, though her body was stiff.

“I died. I don’t know what happened after that, but I remember when life reclaimed me.

It was painful, like something slammed into my chest and restarted my heart.

I opened my eyes and saw you, Layna. Above me.

Blood streaked your face, your eyes glowing white.

I thought—” He took a deep breath, clutching her hand tighter.

“I thought you were gone, and this being, this Daughter was all that was left. But then you smiled at me. And I saw you , my love.” A lone tear traced a path down his cheek.

“You know the rest about leaping from the terrace and levitating in the sky. I saw the pile of bones on the ground and knew you’d ended him. You did what I couldn’t.”

She was silent for several minutes, her mind struggling to comprehend his words. “I didn’t just heal you. I brought you back to life?”

“Yes.” He eyed her warily, as if she were a scorpion poised to strike into his heart.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words were sharp, and she tried to tug her hand from his grasp, but he refused to relinquish his hold.

“At first, I told myself you were traumatized by the ordeal. Your mind seemed so fragile, it felt cruel to burden you with something so heavy. And then afterward, I convinced myself you were mourning your father.”

“And after that?” Indignation simmered in her belly.

“I—you had so much to deal with as queen. I told myself it wasn’t the right time to add to that burden. The longer I waited, the harder it became. But the truth is … I was a coward. I was too ashamed to tell you the truth.”

“Ashamed?”

“I couldn’t protect you. I could have killed him, but I didn’t. Instead, I died and left you alone.” His voice cracked, and another tear slid down his cheek.

Her anger fizzled away.

She wanted to grasp onto the embers of her fury—this was yet another thing he had hidden from her. And she was tired of being lied to.

But he had almost died in her arms.

His pale face, his dimmed eyes, flashed through her mind. And now, his hazel gaze was laced with so much anguish, she couldn’t bear it. How lonely he must have felt, shouldering the weight of such a truth on his own.

She pulled her hand from his grasp, and this time, he let her. Layna twined her arms around him, and he buried his face in her neck, clinging to her as if she might disappear. He pulled back, pressing his forehead against hers, eyes searching her face.

“I understand why you didn’t tell me,” she murmured. “But I’m not a fragile doll. And I don’t want to be kept in the dark again.”

“All right.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, a seal on his promise. Najoom snorted next to them, as if telling them to hurry up with their reconciliation.

“When that—happened,” he gestured to the pile of ash, “what did you feel?”

She gathered her thoughts, trying to put into words something that could only be felt. “Helpless. And angry. So angry at myself for not being able to start a moonsdamned fire. I couldn’t control the light.”

“And when you healed me?” he prompted.

“It’s hard to explain. I thought of how much I love you. I tried to stay calm. I’m not exactly sure how it happened.”

Zarian was quiet, mulling over her words. Then, he turned and ran a hand over Najoom’s mane. He gave his loyal stallion some carrots from his pack, before pulling out breakfast for them both.

After they ate, Zarian helped her up. “Ready?”

“No,” she said. “Teach me how to build a fire.”