Page 77 of The Moon’s Fury (Moon & Sands #2)

A fter they properly broke in 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.

They were all seated, and Marwon held the baby in his lap, feeding her bits of mashed fish and rice. The elder daughter sat between her parents, assessing eyes darting between Layna and Zarian as she shoveled large bites of fish into her mouth.

As they ate, Layna’s nervousness slowly melted away. Marwon and Kylah were warm hosts, and despite the language barrier, she felt welcome.

Marwon, to his credit, did his best to speak the common tongue so Layna wasn’t completely in the dark, though sometimes he’d unwittingly slip back into jazirluga , and Zarian would translate.

Kylah didn’t speak the common tongue at all, though she did her best to communicate with gestures and smiles.

“They’re beautiful,” Layna said to Kylah, motioning to the two girls.

Kylah smiled radiantly, a mother’s pride needing no words to understand when her children were praised.

“Zaria,” she said, pointing first to the older daughter, then to Zarian. “Marwa,” she added, gesturing to the baby girl, then Marwon.

A rush of pride, warm and right, coursed through her.

They had named their firstborn after Zarian.

He gave her a sheepish look. “I tried to talk him out of it, but listening isn’t his strong suit.” Marwon understood well enough and erupted in a loud laugh, clapping Zarian on the back.

“Your man. Modest,” he said to her, rolling his eyes dramatically, and she laughed freely.

After dinner, Kylah ushered Layna and Zarian to the sitting area and promptly deposited the baby in her lap while she and Marwon cleaned up. The baby began to fuss, watching with betrayed eyes as her mother walked away.

She patted Marwa’s back, shushed her, and tickled her, but the chubby baby grew increasingly agitated, her soft whimpers escalating into cries.

Zarian had been watching with a soft smile, but he took mercy on her.

He plucked Marwa from her arms and balanced her on his knee, bouncing her until she began to laugh.

Zaria seized the moment and tugged Layna’s abaya, pointing to woven dolls on the floor. Layna smiled and sat down beside her.

Kylah and Marwon returned quickly with dessert, a silky coconut pudding, topped with some sort of crushed leaves.

Zarian and Marwon spoke in hushed whispers, while Layna spooned the creamy pudding into her mouth.

She heard sihrrock mentioned a few times, the word sounding out of place in jazirluga’s lilting rhythm.

Zarian met her inquisitive look with a nod, a silent promise to fill her in later, away from Zaria’s sharp ears.

After dessert, they thanked their hosts. Kylah had packed more food for them, handing a brimming basket to Zarian, along with more clothing for Layna.

Little Zaria clung to Layna’s knees, releasing her only once Zarian promised they’d return soon.

Hands intertwined, they walked home.