My eyes widened.
Selvanyra.
The Moon’s Wrath.
It was happening.
The scream intensified, vibrating through my skull. I dropped to my knees, clutching my ears, but it was no use. The sound clawed its way in, sharp enough to rupture flesh.
Blood trickled hot against my fingers as the grounds shook.
“No—stop—” My own scream was lost against the fury overhead, a pitiful thing against the roar of a god. My vision swam, the pain unbearable, tearing through me until the world fractured into red and white.
My body buckled, my arms shook, my knees scraped against the stone as I fought to hold myself upright, every breath shallow and ragged. The sound pressed harder, like knives boring straight through the bone of my skull, and my chest convulsed with the effort to draw in air that wouldn’t come. My heart stuttered violently against my ribs, my pulse uneven as the wail continued to stab my ears.
With eyes blurred with tears, I stared at Thrax who was buried beneath rocks, heart aching for him. My hands slipped from my ears, falling limply to my sides as the cave floor swayed beneath me. I tried to reach for something to hold myself, but I met nothing but air.
I was...I was falling. My shoulders slammed against stone, the impact jarring but distant compared to the piercing wail tearing through me.
My body went slack, trembling once, twice, before stilling. My vision scattered, shapes and colours breaking apart into blinding fragments.
Darkness took me.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
SANORA
I woke up with my face streaked with tears, sitting up in bed with muscles weak from last night’s activity. My chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, the sheets twisted and hot beneath me.
I stared out the window at the gloomy morning, watching clouds roll across the sky. My mind was sluggish, heavy and struggling to process what I had just witnessed.
Thrax wasn’t in bed. The space beside me was empty. I strained my ears but heard no sign of him anywhere. There were no footsteps downstairs, no water running in the bathroom. The house was very silent, and I was grateful for it. I needed a little space and quiet to make sense of things.
My body was weak, but I forced myself to move. My legs trembled, and I wobbled when I tried to stand, nearly sinking back into the mattress.
I closed my eyes, steadying myself, my whole being sore from the sex the night before. Even the memory of it made my thighs ache, my skin hypersensitive as though he had branded me everywhere. After a few deep breaths, I pushed forward, stumbling—half walking, half lurching—into the bathroom.
Standing in front of the mirror, I shoved my hair back from my face, touching the ears that had been bleeding in the dream. I easedout a breath when I found no trace of crimson, only my reflection stared back at me, pale, swollen and haunted.
My physical body wasn’t in that timeline, yet I’d been affected by the wail.
I hadn’t even lasted five minutes under her wrath, and history recorded that it went on for seven days. Seven days of destruction, killing nearly everything and everyone.
A tremor ran through me, and my breath shuddered out as I gripped the sink, knuckles whitening, too weak to hold myself upright without it.
Thrax had not killed her. At least not directly.
She had begged him to. She had sacrificed her life to save him.
Hold on.
She had sacrificed her life to save him?
The thought looped in my mind, hammering. It didn’t make sense. She was the offspring of the moon, the god who used to bless her creation with magic. If she wanted to save Thrax from death, why would it cost her life? Why would her hair and dress turn black, as though she had absorbed something darker than death from his body?
There had to be more to it, more to why she gave herself up for him.
Maybe they were truly lovers.
