When the Moon Hatched (Moonfall, #1)

by Sarah A. Parker

“Chase death, Elluin Raeve.” A gasp cuts down my throat like a blade—whetted edges goring deep. Elluin Raeve . . . “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.” “I—” My words catch on the tip of my tongue as he takes my hand and brings it close to his heart, the pad of his thumb running back and forth across the torn skin down the side of my nail. His gaze implores, voice plagued with a sadness too heavy to bear as he says, “Chase death, Moonbeam. And I pray your bloodlust brings you the same sense of peace I feel just knowing you exist.” He plants a kiss on my temple, so swift and light I barely register it until he’s gone. Until he’s storming into the adjacent room where he disappears into the shadows—the ghost of his kiss still a brand upon my pebbling skin. For a moment, I consider chasing him. Asking if Raeve was Elluin’s last name on the off chance I ever want to unveil a past that’ll undoubtedly burn just like the rest of it. I reach up. Touch my temple. Whip my hand away. No.