Page 53 of The Moon’s Fury (Moon & Sands #2)

Z arian had been right—the journey was brutal. On steeper areas, she’d dismount from Najoom and walk. Her legs and calves ached at the end of each day. It was grueling. But with each step, they drew closer to her goal—reaching the Grand Libraries.

Except Zarian seemed intent on stretching out their journey. He’d make them stop frequently for breaks, though it was clear his goal was to coax her into conversation.

She looked down from where she rode on Najoom and just knew he was about to announce their third break in as many hours.

“Let’s rest here.”

Right on time.

“No.”

He ignored her. He whistled and said, “Stop, Naj.” Immediately, Najoom halted.

“This is ridiculous! You barely let us catch a breath between Alzahra and Janta!” She kicked at Najoom’s sides, urging him to move, but the vexingly obedient horse just snorted, shaking his head in refusal.

“I find the mountain air far more refreshing. No harm in taking our time.” He smirked, casting her a knowing glance, “And we’re all alone up here—no Medjai lurking in the shadows, no one breathing down our necks. Is it so bad that I want to savor a little peace with the woman I love?”

His words were meant to soften her, but they just pissed her off even more. She dismounted and jabbed a finger into his chest. “You said you’d follow me anywhere. Why are you dragging your feet? It’s like you don’t even want to reach Thessan.”

He dislodged her finger from his chest and kissed the tip.

“I will follow you anywhere. But I never said when.” He smirked again, and moons, it enraged her.

Was this some kind of game to him?

Seething, she hauled back and punched him in the stomach. It felt like hitting a brick wall. Her wrist throbbed painfully, but her blow didn’t even faze him.

“Good, that was good,” he said, grinning at her. “Here, let me show you how—”

With an angry roar, she punched him again. And again and again. She beat at his chest and shoulders and abdomen, and he let her. She raged and screamed, his firm chest and abdomen unyielding beneath her blows.

When her arms grew tired, she let them dangle at her sides, panting heavily as she stared at the unshakable man before her.

Then, she pulled his face down and forced her mouth to his.

She kissed him as if it were a battle, biting his lip and tongue until she drew blood. The coppery tang filled her mouth and urged her on. She kissed him harder, and he responded in kind, his hands gripping her waist. Her tongue pressed past his lips, fighting him for dominance.

And he let her have it.

Layna grew impatient, the rage in her veins mingling with need.

She pressed on his shoulders until he kneeled before her, and she joined him on the ground, tugging at his clothing.

Layna pushed him onto his back, and he went down easily.

She took her pleasure from him, head thrown back with abandon, his hands gripping her hips, helping her move.

With a loud cry, she collapsed on his heaving chest. Zarian wrapped his arms around her as they both panted, tenderly stroking her back until their breathing settled.

“Are you all right, love?” he asked softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

She didn’t want his tenderness, his gentle touch.

“I’m fine.” She stood quickly, cleaning herself up and adjusting her clothing. She spared him a glance. He was still on the ground, staring at her slack-jawed. “You said we needed to blow off steam. We did. I’ll drink the silpharoon tea at dinner. Let’s keep moving.”

By the time she reached Najoom and mounted, she’d expected Zarian to have followed her.

But he was still on the ground where she left him.

Slowly, he rose and brushed himself off, tugging his trousers back up.

Dead leaves crunched under his boots as he stalked toward her.

Without a word, he grasped Najoom’s reins and led them forward.

They didn’t stop for another break.

He hadn’t said a word since they’d resumed their journey. They rode in silence until a small stream cut through the path—the Mountains were full of them.

Zarian stopped Najoom and began digging in the pack. He tossed a bar of soap on the ground by her feet. “I’m going hunting.”

He stalked off into the woods, leaving her alone to tie up Najoom. As she watched him leave, a foreign feeling stirred in her chest. After oscillating between burning rage and cold numbness for days, the new emotion was welcome.

It was guilt.

With a sigh, she grabbed a change of clothes and washed up in the stream. Zarian still hadn’t returned by the time she finished, so she prepared the firepit while she waited. Once it was ready, she glanced around, ensuring she was still alone.

Closing her eyes, she focused on the stillness.

She called to her light.

Nothing answered.

With a sigh, she used a dagger and stone to light the fire. Soon, a small fire blazed before her.

Zarian eventually returned with a large hare for dinner. He sunk onto the ground across from her and began preparing it. When it was skinned and skewered over the fire, he headed toward the stream.

He hadn’t cast a single glance in her direction.

Her chest ached.

It was a sobering pain, one that constricted her heart like a vise until she couldn’t breathe. It settled low in her belly, twisting and clawing at her insides.

Memories dredged up, fresh and excruciating.

She’d lost her father, then her mother.

She had no idea where her sister was.

She’d lost her home and her powers.

The grief rose up again, bitter acid in her throat, and she wanted to numb her senses to escape the raw, burning pain it left in its wake. She had nothing to dull her senses except rage. As long as she fed the inferno inside, she didn’t have to nurse the festering wounds grief had inflicted.

But this time, she didn’t let her simmering anger boil over. Her eyes fixed on the tree line where Zarian had disappeared. He was hurting because of her. This kind, strong, good man who had somehow found her worthy to love.

The crackling of the fire yanked her from her thoughts. With a start, she realized Zarian had left the rabbit on the skewer, expecting her to rotate it over the fire.

Shit.

She scrabbled over and turned the spit, wincing. One side of their dinner would be extra crispy. With a sigh, she folded her legs beneath her and religiously turned the skewer.

By the time Zarian returned, the rabbit was cooked through and portioned, ready to eat. He sat cross-legged across the fire, toweling off his damp hair.

“It might be slightly charred. Only slightly,” she said, reaching around the firepit and setting a plate before him.

He didn’t respond. He ate his meal in silence, eyes fixed on the fire.

Layna watched him, nibbling on her own dinner.

“You’re upset with me,” she said hesitantly.

“What gave you that impression?” There was so much ice in his voice, she was surprised the stream didn’t freeze over.

She took a deep, shaky breath. “I haven’t treated you well. These past few days—”

His eyes finally snapped to her.

And he looked pissed .

“The past few—I don’t give a fuck about the past few days!” he roared.

Fury radiated from him in hot waves, and it took every ounce of her resolve not to flinch.

Her anger was a cold beast, but Zarian’s rage shook the mountain.

“I thought you were upset bec—”

“I am not a prized fucking stud for you to ride and discard !” The fire danced in his narrowed, hazel eyes, and for the briefest of moments, she was glad it formed a barrier between them. A vein throbbed angrily in his forehead, and the tendons in his neck bulged.

She was at a loss for words.

His shoulders were vibrating with barely restrained rage. Watching him warily, she racked her mind for something to say, something to make this right.

He looked away from her and took a deep breath.

Then another.

And another.

The stiff line of his shoulders relaxed slightly, and he unclenched his hands and rested them on his knees.

“Come here,” he said gruffly. She hesitated, biting her lower lip. When she didn’t move, he sharply added, “I won’t ask again.”

The bite in his tone had her bolting up and past the firepit in seconds. Her footsteps slowed when she reached him, an angry mountain of a man. She wrung her hands together, unsure where to sit.

She didn’t fret long, because he tugged her into his lap. Layna sat stiffly, straddling his thighs, hands braced on his tense shoulders.

“Relax,” he muttered, working his jaw, still not looking at her.

It didn’t ease her nerves.

Anticipation needled her, sharp prickles against her skin.

“You’ve been through a lot,” he finally said, voice low in the night.

“I understand that. Rage at me, scream at me—I can take it. Moons, you could beat me bloody, and I’d still stand.

I’ll gladly be your punching bag if that’s what you need.

And you can have me any way you want—I am yours.

I find comfort in your body often enough.

“But what you did today—” His fingers tightened around her waist. She saw it in his eyes, the storm of hurt and anger, though his gaze stayed locked on the fire beyond her shoulder. “I can’t take that. I felt used. And I never want to feel that way again. Not with you.”

“I’m so sor—”

“If you had just talked to me afterward,” he spoke over her, his voice as hard as marble.

“It would have been different. It wouldn’t have hurt the way it did.

But watching you leave me on the forest floor, just a body to sate a need—” He scoffed, turning his head away.

“All those months in Alzahra, I denied us because it meant something to me. With you, it felt sacred.”

He finally looked at her tear-stained face, and she understood why he’d been avoiding her gaze. He released a deep sigh, and his anger escaped along with it, dispersing into the cool, mountain air.

“ You are sacred.” His hands were gentle as they wiped the tears from her face.

She was sobbing now, shaking her head, and he pulled her against him.

“I’m sorry, Zarian,” she choked out, his solid chest muffling her apology.

“The anger … it made things easier. The rage numbed me. And before, the physical outlet helped me forget, but your tenderness afterward…” Her voice cracked.

“I didn’t want to feel it. I didn’t want to feel anything .

” She clutched at him like a drowning woman.

“I hurt you,” she gasped. “I hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself. But I swear, never again, I will never do that again. Fuck, I’ve just been so angry. It felt good to be angry, because if I let go of that rage, I think the grief will tear me open and there’ll be nothing left.

“There’s this painful, poisonous ball inside.

And it wants to unravel, but if it does, I think I’ll die.

My mother. My sister,” she sobbed, her tears tracing wet paths down her cheeks.

“So I push it down. And whenever the tendrils of grief try to escape, I strangle them with rage until they lie still.”

“Soraya is safe, Layna. Jamil would die before he let anything happen to her. And I left word in Sendouk that’d we’d head to Thessan. We’ll see them soon.”

“She doesn’t even know , Zarian. Soraya doesn’t even know that Mama is gone. I will have to tell her when I see her again. If ever. It’s going to destroy her.” Her voice cracked, and a fresh stream of tears fell anew.

“And my powers,” she rasped. “I’m so fucking angry.

I never wanted them. In the beginning, I hated them, I hated being feared by my people.

My mother. Ebrahim. But now that they’re gone …

it feels like a punishment. Because…” She sucked in a shaky breath, afraid to speak the words and make them true.

“Because I grew to love them. The light made me powerful. I could protect myself, protect you . And the healing, Zarian. Moons, I feel so useless not being able to heal your wounds. I just want them back,” she whispered.

Then louder, “I want my light back .”

“You are more than the light, my love.” Zarian finally spoke, having let her ease her burdens in silence. He cradled her face in his calloused hands, beautiful hazel eyes fixed on hers.

She saw only love.

“I fell in love with you long before the eclipse. You’re the breath in my lungs, the blood in my veins, the marrow in my bones.

I wasn’t lying when I said you’d never be rid of me now.

If you never wield your light again, I will love you all the same.

I don’t care if you can’t heal my wounds, because just your touch makes me forget any pain I’ve ever endured.

” He pressed his forehead to hers. “But you care. So we’ll get to Thessan, and we’ll get your light back.

Even if we need another eclipse to do it, we’ll find a way.

Together. We’ll find Soraya and Jamil, and we’ll burn the sacred fucking Oasis to the ground.

” She gasped, eyes wide. “Well, you’ll do the burning. But I’ll help.”

Her chin quivered, heart nearly bursting at the seams. Moons, to feel so much at once after smothering her feelings was painful. She pursed her lips, determined to fight the tears, but Zarian rubbed her back and held her tighter as if to say, It’s all right. Let it out. I’ve got you .

So she did.

She sobbed and sobbed into his chest, releasing all the grief she’d kept tucked inside. “It hurts, Zarian,” she cried. “ I hurt.”

“I know, love,” he whispered against her forehead. “I know.”