When the Moon Hatched (Moonfall, #1)

by Sarah A. Parker

They sang their whipping, burning, breaking songs, mincing Caelis’s essence into pieces small enough to trap in a cage of ebony crystal no larger than a pip, henceforth known as the Aether Stone. Threads of his silver cloak tore free as he thrashed and fought, but the other Creators did not bother to round up the scraps, leaving them to tether to both poles of the world.

Always misunderstood!

“I’ve seen bigger. But hey, if whipping a female makes you feel like a strong boy, then don’t let me stomp your dreams. Don’t worry, I can handle it. I’ve got enough balls for the both of us.”

GOD I LOVE HER SO MUCH

The Shade, The Fade, and The Burn are each ruled by a different Vaegor brother, each cut from the same vile cloth.

“If I win, you purchase my sentence, and I go back to killing vile males with small cocks and enough ego to justify their sick behavior. And you get to go back to . . . well, hunting moonshards.”

HHAHAHAHA

“I’m just so sick of looking at your ugly face that death is starting to sound rather cushy.”

Failing to muster any more words to wield, I poke my tongue out at him instead. He returns the gesture, and the corner of my mouth threatens to lift. The King just stuck his tongue out at me.

TEHY BROKE CHARACTER HAHA

Meaning I’m stuck here in this hot, humid place while my kingdom is run by a vile male I did not choose for myself. A horror that pales in comparison to the pain I feel whenever I look at my beautiful, broken Moonplume . . .

Tired of losing things I love. Tired of trying to rip this stupid diadem off my brow so I can wield the power I need to get Slátra home and take my throne from the asshole who thinks he owns me. Tired of being spoken down to by males who believe they know what’s good for me and my kingdom I miss so much, now being run by a cruel, selfish, greedy male I wouldn’t trust with my worst enemy. I’m just . . . tired.

My heart drops, frown returning. Am I not as free as I thought I was?

And Rekk needs to be skinned alive, cured, then used as a fucking floor rug.

“I’m sorry, Raeve. For Essi. Regret is the heaviest burden to bear.”

“I’ve got all slumber,” Kaan rumbles, and I swear his deep, raspy voice was designed by the Creators themselves to disable me. To tamper with my insides, rearrange me into a mindless idiot. “The rest of my life, actually.” Fuck.

“The cuff was a kindness, Moonbeam. There is little need to weaponize yourself here, but it storms. Often. Violently.”

HE'S SUCH AN EMBODIMENT OF GREEN FLAG??

I don’t tell him the deeper we’ve drilled, the less tentative I’ve been about this decision to follow him down a twirling tunnel into a dark abyss. I certainly don’t tell him the growing cold feels a lot like . . . Home.

“Spend your life alone, forever wondering why you scream in your sleep. Calling for that very Moonplume I’ve spent the past twenty-three phases piecing back together, hoping it would bring your spirit peace. All because you loved that beast so fucking much,” he utters, shaking my head, “I knew it would break you to know she was scattered all over the world after scavengers raided her impact zone.”

“We spent the slumber together, and the following dae I flew off to help rebuild a village. The next time I saw Elluin, her limp body was being carted into the sky by her mourning dragon,” I growl,

Well shit

Either way, there’s no one else I’d willingly serve my heart on a platter to—over and over and over again—like a hopeless, lovesick stray begging for a treat.

UGH HE'S SO ROMANTIC AND SO IN LOVE IT HURTS

“If you want me”—he presses his mouth to my ear, nipping gently—“I’m fucking yours.”

Released my inner crafty bitch and let her shine.

You don’t simply scratch an itch with Kaan Vaegor, then throw him away and move on to another. You peel back your skin and open your ribs to the male. You tuck him somewhere deep and safe, fight others off with weapons forged from secrets sharp enough to slice, then perish with those secrets clutched close to your chest. There is no way I gave him up for anyone else . . . willingly. And there’s only one answer to that particular riddle. Elluin had secrets just as barbed as my own.

But secrets earn their title for a reason, often painted in an illusionary veil because they’re painful to look in the eye.

“Raeve, you could flay me down the middle and I’d still fucking love you.”

A fucking moon could fall and I wouldn’t notice.

I don’t want the perfect goodbye. I want to say hello to Raeve—whoever that is. Whoever’s tucked beneath that hardened exterior, I want to know her. Be around her. Love her.

Oh my fucking god kaan PLEASE

“Your hands know me,” she whispers. “Yes,” I murmur against her hair. “Know you, crave you, worship you.”

She’s probably picturing me on my knees, and perhaps that should bother me. It doesn’t. I’d spend eternity looking up at her if she’d only fucking let me.

“I spent over a hundred phases crushed beneath the weight of your death, wrecking myself, trying to shed the hurt from my heart. Do you know how much easier it would’ve been to simply remove you from my mind?” I groan as he pumps me full, my body singing for his ministrations, wet sounds filling the room. “But I didn’t, because I’m not a fucking coward.”

“I’m not your secret. I’m your truth.”

“So, Raeve. You can swipe at me all you want, pretend you don’t love me as much as I love you. I can take more scars, despite how much they hurt. But you’re not running away.” He plants a kiss on the tip of my nose, the tender motion so at odds with the hard edge of his words. “That’s what you just agreed to.”

You wound me, Kaan. The world doesn't deserve you :")))

“Do you want to fight or fuck about it?”

HHHAHAAH

He’s a filthy shit stain on this world, and I will exterminate him. Slowly. Painfully.

“Come back to me, Raeve. To us.”

He may never know the youngling I carry is his or that I’m pitted with a fear that I won’t survive long enough to find a way to make this right.

UGH SO SAD