When the Moon Hatched: Moonfall by Sarah A. Parker

Author:Sarah A. Parker [Parker, Sarah A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Moonfall#1
Published: 2024-01-13T00:00:00+00:00

Kaan dominates the crater, each long stride hailed by another shake of the ground, his body a tower of rippling brawn dappled with sweat that glistens in the sun, his scars pale against the rusty surrounds.

His hair is pulled back, sooty brows pinched above his savage stare that clings to me. That casts a cord between my ribs, down into the depths of my icy internal lake where it snags something heavy and thrashing that I can’t quite glimpse.

I begin to tremble, my teeth clanking together so hard I’m surprised they don’t shatter. I blame it on the fact that my skull is probably on the verge of cracking. It’s certainly not something deeper. I’m not shaking like an egg threatening to hatch from this overwhelming surge of relief now packing my chest full. Relief that he’s here. With me.

That—

It’s definitely not that.

Every other clan member aside from Hock smacks their fists to their chests four times, the thumping clamor filling the crater with a drone of respect. Kaan does it once—a vision of ruin and rage.

His gaze shifts to the male still straddling me, his eyes blazing so full of flames I should be scared.

Frightened …

I’m not.

“Dagh ata te roskr nei. Ueh!” His dense, gravelly voice carries the foreign words with such carnal ferocity I feel each syllable abrade my pebbling skin. He smacks his fist against his chest again, this time splaying his hand, dragging his nails diagonally down his torso. Four distinct scratch marks bloom—risen and angry. “Gagh de mi dat nan ta … aghtáma.”

The words cut like blades, making me wince. I don’t have to understand the language to know the King is … well …

Pissed.

Hock rises—Kaan’s match in size. “Agath aygh te nei dahl Tookah atah. Agath dein … vah! Lui te hah mát tuin.” He repeats Kaan’s motion, scratching his own skin, then again with his other hand, creating a welted X upon his heaving chest.

Kaan snarls. “Heil deg Zaran dah ta réidi. Heil deg dah ta réidi!”

Hock spits on the ground, repeats the clawing motion, then charges. Kaan mimics—like two great mountains merging toward each other.

Clashing.

I feel the motion like a boulder lobbed at my ribs.

Heads pressed together, clenched hands firmly cast at their sides, they snarl. Such violent intimacy in their almost-embrace that I’m certain the energy they’re exuding has the power to cleave another crevice in the ground.

Saiza is suddenly at my side with another female, both scooping me up, threading my arms around their necks and dragging me toward the tent.

“Whas being sssaid?” I slur past my clanking teeth, trying to blink away the haze beginning to cloud my vision.

“Hock is claiming the victory over your battle, despite the fact that you did not submit,” Saiza says as I’m carried past the Sól now making her way to Hock and Kaan in long, hip-rolling strides. “Kaan is declaring you are not free to be claimed by anyone. That you were not raised in our ways and are not accustomed to such traditions.

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