When the Moon Hatched (The Moonfall #1)

Chapter 36

I slam the door behind myself and lean against it, lungs heaving, heart galloping. Still flushed and wanting between my trembling legs.

What the flying fuck was that?

I toss my hair back off my face, groaning at the smell of him now staining my fingertips. Like he seeped through my pores and melded with me, creating an aroma that’s so carnally us .

And it smells good. So damn good that part of me wants to dash back down those stairs right now and apologize. Let him fuck me like it means something. Let him beneath my skin.

The stupid part.

A flash of lightning ignites the room, and my stare narrows on the illuminated window being lashed at by the storm, head tipping to the side as a roll of thunder rattles the pane …

I’m small enough to fit through that.

Just.

Actually … this side of the dwelling supports a trellis perfectly convenient for me to use as a ladder!

Thank you, little crooked home.

I smile and shove off the door, crossing the room as I step into my short pants and cinch them at the waist, tucking my shirt in so there’s less of me to catch a snag. I may not be able to bring myself to kill Kaan Vaegor, but I still need to get away.

Far, far away, before any more damage is done.

I climb onto the raised pallet, then onto the side table. Reaching the window, I glance over my shoulder at the door before I pry open the latch and push the pane wide. The storm is drumming the roof like a thousand flat hands—a booming diversion for what little sound manages to squeeze from the window’s hinges.

Threading my arm through the hole, I grip the trellis and haul myself out into the deluge, feet tingling with a flush of paranoia. I don’t have time to dwell on the strange sensation of heavy raindrops pelting my skin as I wiggle free of the sleep space.

Get out—get out—get out—

I grip the knobbly trellis, trying to avoid the lush, fruit-laden foliage as I clamber down, drenched by the time I drop onto the sodden soil that squelches between my toes. A small zap of victory pulses through my veins, and I sprint for the jungle path, my heart pounding in rhythm with the angry storm.

I’m out. I’m free.

Now to put some distance between us.

My mind flashes to a different time, a different place. When I was escaping somewhere vile during a storm of a different variety, darting through eddies of snow that stuck to my hair and threatened to crust my lashes shut.

Hard to ignore the stark difference. Then, I was running from a place of pain, starvation, and suffering. Now, I’m running from a place of pleasure, wholesome meals, and deep belly laughs.

Don’t think about it. This is right.

This is right.

All that good stuff is not for you.

I repeat it to myself with every splashing step through puddles and over fallen logs, the jungle’s dense foliage seeming to swallow me as I trace the path we took to get here while the storm shrieks and shudders. Slowing, I emerge before the clearing Rygun landed upon earlier, relieved to see the beast hasn’t returned.

Sheets of rain fall around me, and I cast my gaze right, taking in the steep cliff that fringes the plateau.

If I run that way, there are only so many places I can go. And with a warrior king intent on hunting me—likely familiar with these mountains—I’ll be caught in no time.

But if I climb down …

I can follow the river all the way to the wall. I’ll have a constant supply of drinking water, a delightful view of the River Ahgt, shade coverage from the shoreline trees.

What more could I want?

I dash to the left, taking a moment to stare down the cliff and map my chosen pathway.

“Creators,” I mutter.

The cliff is a vertical drop that levels onto another plateau, cradling a churning basin fed into from the now-heaving waterfall. The pool spills over the edge, down another cliff, where it feeds into a second basin far below—the one I saw when we first flew in. Though it looks nothing like it did then.

Now it’s a swollen catchment gushing into the gorge with hazardous force.

I wince.

This is not ideal, but it’s this or the cliff behind me and a probable dead end.

The rainfall tapers a little, a single shaft of light splitting through the bulbous clouds above …

I shrug, taking it as a sign.

Turning, I push my iron cuff farther up my arm so it won’t get in the way, cutting a glance toward the jungle walkway before I fold into a crouch. I ease my feet over the edge, find a foothold in the stone, and drop—swallowing the heart-plummeting sensation that always ensues the moment I’m hanging off the edge of something treacherous.

The stone is slippery but sturdy enough that I’m able to climb in semiconfident increments, making my movements swift and methodical.

Nearing the bottom of the cliff, I leap the final few feet, landing upon the grassy plateau. I run toward the edge of the pool to see angry water lapping at the sides, though it’s still a few feet off from challenging the bank’s generous easements.

Should be fine.

For a moment, I watch the heaving waterfall shoveling over the edge with such roaring might it’s hard not to marvel …

Rayne’s an exquisite Creator. Such a dominant force.

I turn, just easing over the cliff’s edge when a flutter of movement snatches my gaze. A flock of tawny birds ripping from the jungle, squawking as they shoot skyward.

My heart leaps into my throat.

Birds don’t fly during storms, everybody knows that. They hunker down. Hide.

Did something spook them?

A deep seed of knowing sinks into my chest, riddling me with blazing roots of adrenaline.

He’s coming.

Shit.

I begin to clamber down the cliff, not bothering to check my hand placements. Tearing up my fingers and feet with the frenzy of my frazzled descent.

If Kaan finds me, there’s no way I’m getting free again. He won’t take his Creators-damn eyes off me.

A terrible creaking sound fissures the air, and I look up in time to see an explosion of water—a gushing torrent of froth and stones and torn-out trees pouring toward me so fast I barely have time to pull a breath before I’m struck, ripped from the wall.

Something hard collides with my head—

Darkness.