When the Moon Hatched (The Moonfall #1)

Chapter 77

A crackling sound nudges me from a sleep that slicks to my mind like oil. A sleep so deep and silent my body feels like stone.

I pry my way toward awareness, lulled by the patter of rain upon the glass stoppering the skyhole. Groaning, I nuzzle deeper into the calloused scoop of warmth cupping the side of my face, a dense weight draped over my waist that’s comfortable.

Familiar.

Another crackling boom clefts the air, a flash of light igniting the backs of my lids. The weight moves, a hand sliding across my ribs, tucking me closer to a solid wall of breathing, pulse-pumping heat …

He’s still here.

My eyes pop open, breath catching. I take in the domed room I’ve grown so fond of, the dragons carved all over the rounded walls barely visible in the dull, stormy light.

A rumbled breath blows upon my ear, a shiver crawling from the base of my spine all the way to the tips of my toes as I settle into the conclusion that this is not a dream. Nor is it a chest-squeezing memory.

The immense presence pressed against my curved spine … The muscular legs tangled with mine … The hot breath upon my flesh …

My heart labors.

Real. All real.

I draw my lungs full of air laced with the scent of cream and molten stone. Releasing a slow exhale, I think back through my drink-sodden memories, recalling our pillar-top kiss. A dusky scramble of moonlit dips and twirls. Chest-aching laughter. The tangy taste of Moonplume’s Breath smacked upon my lips.

I remember the rain hammering down, me gripping Kaan’s hand and tugging him along the esplanade. The shore.

Through the jungle and up a twirl of stairs.

I remember him giving me privacy I didn’t want as I dressed into my sleep shift. Remember climbing amongst the sheets, then ardently wishing for him to crawl in beside me and hug me until I fell asleep like he used to do with Elluin—feeling my well-won Skripi leverage yank from my chest like a flower ripped from its pot. Because drinks and laughter and love obviously turn me into a fucking idiot.

It’s an effort not to groan at the realization that I tossed my contingency wish out the window just like I tossed that iron cuff into the Loff after Kaan picked it free.

Hindsight and all that. Though it’s hard for me to find a true flare of regret beneath my ribs. Not with the memory of me drifting off while he ran his fingers through my hair—humming my calming tune.

Although …

My mind latches onto the vaguest wisp of memory. Of his voice upon my ear as unconsciousness clawed at me. Something about … a painful truth I need to know?

Creators.

Don’t want that.

Another flash of lightning floods the room full of static energy, raising the hairs on the backs of my arms.

Kaan groans, shifting, and I use the opportunity to churn in his hold until I’m facing him, breath stilling when I see his sleeping face. Instantly regretting it, realizing I should’ve just crawled out and left without looking back.

His black hair is skewed, bun loose, tendrils strewn across his brow that I want to trail a line of kisses upon .

I lift my hand, dancing my fingers over his shapely lips, pretending to touch them. Pretending to thread my fingers through his beard, then brush his long black lashes.

Sucker for punishment, my gaze travels farther down.

He’s shirtless, his body so bold in the flashing light, etching his rounded muscles into a work of art slashed in too many pale scars to count. Harshly chiseled.

Raw.

Beautiful.

I think back to some of the memories I’ve been struck with since I almost died from that head injury at the crater, frowning …

In not one of them was he so covered in scars.

It’s hard to imagine him surviving some of the wounds he’s obviously endured in the time we’ve been apart, that stony organ in my chest squeezing at the thought of him curled on a seater with a puncture in his gut—stiff and lifeless.

Pale.

At the thought of waking beside him, holding him close to keep him warm—only to find that he’s not. That he’s just as cold as our little snow cave, and that his eyes aren’t closed at all. They’re wide open, and they won’t blink, no matter how hard I shake him.

Scream at him.

Beg him.

Just like I begged Fallon.

I can’t do that. I can’t lose somebody else.

Exactly why I need to get the fuck out of here and leave. Now.

I look at his lashes again, imagining myself leaning forward to kiss them both—soft and slow. Imagining my nose nuzzled into his neck, drawing my lungs full of his scent. Imagining myself pressing my forehead to his, telling him the three words I know Elluin felt in every fiber of her being, planting a final kiss upon his cheek—

Go, Raeve.

My heart throbs with an agonizing ache as I rip my gaze away, shift his arm to the side, and sit up. I drop inside myself and begin shucking the beautiful memory of all the warm, lustrous layers that could make me want to stay and live this past slumber again, and again, and again.

Forever.

Kaan’s arm lashes around my middle, snapping me back to the now. With a surge of might, I’m lugged against his chest, bound in his embrace.

“ Wh— ”

“The aurora’s still in bloom,” he murmurs into the dip of my neck, his voice gravel laced with groggy wisps of sleep.

Despite my frown, my body bows to the shape of him, like we were made to fit together.

Move together.

Fall together.

“You don’t know that,” I scoff, and another bolt of lightning ignites the room.

“It is,” he says, settling around me like he intends to fall straight back to sleep. “You can’t tell because of all the clouds.”

I sigh.

Sounds like a load of spangle shit to me. A perfect excuse to draw the pleasure out and put off the painful bit. But I’ve been doing that for the past who the heck knows how long, and all it’s done is land me on this big, comfortable pallet with the male, nuzzling his hand. Indulging in a love I’ll never be able to keep.

It’s cruel.

I’m cruel.

“I have to go, Kaan.”

“Bluntly aware of your intentions, Raeve. But as I said before you fell asleep, we need to have a serious conversation first.”

I go stone still, swearing internally.

I’d hoped he’d forgotten.

He lifts his face from my neck, then tilts my head far enough that I’m looking up at him, crushed beneath the sizzle of his earnest stare. “We can either do that now or we can keep pretending for a little while. The choice is yours.”

I scowl. “And if I don’t want to have this talk you speak of? Ever?”

He shrugs. “Then you’ll have to kill me on your way out of Dhomm. Simple as that. Otherwise, I’ll be on your fucking heels for the rest of eternity until you decide you’re ready to face your past.”

I physically recoil, like he jabbed me with a shiv and marginally missed a vital organ. “You’re horrible.”

His smile is soft. Gentle, even.

“I’m a horrible male that loves you, Raeve. That wants the best for you, even if it’s not the best for me.” The smile falls, his eyes darkening as he pauses—like he’s grappling with the words on his tongue. “There are … others who would be affected by your sudden return. One in particular. You need to know the truth.”

I open my mouth, close it, shafted by the hardness in his stare. The same hardness I saw in his eyes when he leapt down off Rygun’s back at the crater in the Boltanic Plains.

Whoever this other is, I’m half convinced he’d cut off a head for them. Meaning I’m not getting out of here without this talk . Especially since I threw away my leverage for a midslumber snuggle and a lullaby.

Who am I? A dose of love from the past has tamed me into something soft, squishy, and … stupid .

“I don’t like this.”

“I know you don’t,” he murmurs, reaching up to tuck a tendril of hair behind my clipped ear. “Growing pains are called pains for a reason.”

Don’t like that, either. I’ve had enough pain .

A bit sick of it, actually.

“So what’s it to be, Moonbeam? Are you in a listening mood?”

Definitely not.

A little more blissful make-believe with the male who’s looking at me like I shaped the sky versus a conversation about my prickly past that’ll probably break more than it builds?

Not even a competition.

“Tell me,” I muse, falling back into our lustful illusion like falling through a cloud, “what sort of … things did we used to do in this room when we’d wake before the aurora rose?”

Kaan softens around me, a husky sound building in his chest as his eyes blaze. “You haven’t dreamt about us in this sleep space?”

Yes.

“No.”

He quirks a brow. “Really? Because you said otherwise while you were four drinks deep, being thrown about the dance floor to a thumping jig in the Bhoggith dome.”

My cheeks heat.

Course I did.

He threads his fingers through the strap of my sleepwear, edging it down my shoulder, planting kisses across my collarbone—tangling with my senses.

Loosening my body.

“Tell me, Raeve …” Another soft kiss is planted on my neck, his next words rumbled against my ear. “How did I fuck you in your dreams?”