Page 78 of The Moon’s Fury (Moon & Sands #2)

T he squawking of seagulls pulled her from slumber. She sat up, disoriented in the bright, open room, before remembering she was in the villa. The space beside her was cold. Frowning, she peeked into the hallway—it was empty, but a delicious aroma wafted toward her.

Downstairs, she found Zarian in the kitchen, still in his sleep trousers. He turned at the sound of her footsteps. His hazel eyes raked her form, lingering on her mouth where a wide smile had bloomed.

They ate together from one plate as they often did—salted plantains, mashed breadfruit, and thickly sliced mango. Afterward, Zarian stored the leftovers away in the sihrrock -powered cold box—she didn’t know what else to call it.

“Ready?” he asked her.

She nodded, even though her anxious heart called her a liar.

The humidity clung to her skin like an unwelcome caress. It was hotter today. The island heat was different than that of the dry desert—thick, suffocating, like a wet blanket draped over her.

A bead of sweat dripped down her back, seeping into the already damp fabric of the sundress Kylah had given her.

The sun beat down on them as they walked, and the ground felt warm even through her sandals.

Zarian’s hands were never far from her, always finding their place on her hip or lower back or slung across her shoulders.

“Marwon said the islanders know about the sihrrock ,” Zarian commented, shielding his eyes and gazing out at the beach.

“It was only a matter of time—they already eyed his villa with suspicion. He hadn’t wanted to tell them, having seen firsthand the greed it can foster.

But a few men found him mining it, and it forced his hand.

No issues so far, though. He’s been helping incorporate it around the island. ”

They followed a winding path along the coast, and when they reached a rocky outcropping, Zarian climbed up onto the stone and helped her up. They walked along the path until a small cave came into view.

The ceiling arched high above them, the smooth, gray walls spotted with moss. There was a small pool of impossibly clear water, the cavern ceiling reflected on its glittering surface. Gentle waves lapped at the walls, stretching farther into shadows.

Zarian looked at her expectantly.

“You’re wearing the swim clothing Kylah gave you?”

She gave a hesitant nod. The island woman had looked at her in shock when Zarian had translated at dinner that Layna couldn’t swim, and had promptly fetched spare swim clothes.

Apparently, the islanders regularly wore swimwear under their clothing, accustomed to venturing into the water at any point in the day.

“The sihrrock vein is at the cove floor. Do you trust me?”

There was no hesitation in the quick bob of her head.

Zarian’s fingers trailed along her collarbones, setting her skin on fire, before sliding the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders. It pooled around her ankles, leaving her only in two scraps of black fabric stretching across her chest and hips.

His gaze darkened, lingering on her bare thighs and belly, and her skin erupted in goosebumps.

Eyes still fixed on her curves, he pulled his sleeveless tunic over his head and shucked his loose, linen trousers.

Layna’s eyes raked over the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abdomen, though even the perfection that was his body didn’t stop the nervous flutter in her heart as she turned to the water.

“It’s deeper than the hot springs in Tarakshan, but only by a few feet.” Without another word, perhaps before she could change her mind, he dove in and disappeared beneath the surface. The ripples faded away, and she waited anxiously for him to resurface.

He finally did, six minutes later. She knew because she’d been frantically counting the seconds, her pulse pounding in her ears.

His dark locks slicked against his forehead. He looked elated, at home in the cool water.

Layna took a deep breath.

She could do this.

She eased onto the edge and let her legs slip beneath the rippling surface.

The water kissed her skin—cool and blissfully refreshing.

The heat clinging to her body dissolved in an instant, and with sudden, visceral clarity, she understood why the islanders returned to the ocean’s embrace again and again.

Zarian pulled her in, one arm braced against the rock wall, the other anchoring her tightly to his chest.

“We’re heading straight down,” he murmured. “It’s at the bottom, pressed right up against this wall.” Her heart raced, but she trusted Zarian with her soul. “When I tap your hip three times, that means it’s time to head to the surface. Ready?”

She wasn’t, but nodded anyway.

“Take as big a breath as you can manage, love.”

She sucked in until her lungs refused to expand, then even more after that.

And then Zarian pulled her under.