When the Moon Hatched (Moonfall, #1)

by Sarah A. Parker

“Who was that to?” “Pyrok.” He settles into the seat opposite me, picks up a shard of copperdew melon, and bites into the crispy flesh. “There’s only one Mindweft in Dhomm—I believe you’ve already met him? I’m moving him to a safe house.” My heart stops. “You’re joking.” “Joking?” His eyes flick up, slaying me. “Forgive me, Moonbeam, but there’s nothing funny about it. You have a history of dipping out a side door the moment my back is turned, then winding up dead in the sky.” He offers me a forced smile that stings as much as I imagine mine did earlier. “I’m simply taking precautions.” I make a huffing sound and shove against the backrest, shaking my head. “I liked you better when you were yielding to me.” He shrugs. “And I liked you better when you were drunk with a smile on your face, singing to me, telling me you were only running because you couldn’t bear the thought of watching me die.” I wince. Those drinks should’ve come with big, bold warning signs. “The great news is you’re free to butter me up for eternity with those dimpled smiles, because it’s not your job to keep me safe,” he says, tossing another berry into his mouth. “Now, eat your fruit.”