When the Moon Hatched (Moonfall, #1)

by Sarah A. Parker

Bulder, God of Ground, sculpted the sphere with one belted bellow, building a sturdy globe that did not spin.

Rayne fell upon the ground in a billion yearning teardrops of unrequited love, puddling in Bulder’s dips, filling his gorges with her gushing affections.

Ignos was a glutton for Clode. The God of Fire feasted on her. Consumed her. Loved her so much he could not breathe without her.

Until one aurora rise, for the first time in more than five million phases . . . Another moon fell.

The harder you care, the more fragile everything seems. Easier to just . . . Not.

Survival’s funny. Some wear it like a whisper, others like a scream. Mine’s a scorched skeleton of flame-forged rage that keeps me upright. Keeps me moving forward.

Sadness is like stones that stack inside you, making it harder to move. Ignorance is my self-preservation tonic, and I’ll swear by it until I die.

Heartbreak has a tone that echoes through the ages, and her voice was laden with it.

“Kaan, no. I did not agree to this!” His body stiffens, steps slowing, a low, grating sound coming from him. “Say it again . . .” “What?” “My name, Moonbeam. Say it again.”

Eyes wide, I search the sky, chasing the cloud’s mournful tears as they sing their fatal song. Like each tiny raindrop is innately aware they’re caught in a descent that can only end one way. That they will never be more whole than they are right now, plummeting to their doom.

“Because I knew a female who died. Tragically. Whose lifeless body was sailed into the sky by the adoring beast at your back with my torn-out heart in her fucking fist,” he rasps, lifting his hand into a claw that he shakes in my face. “Her name was Elluin, and she laughed with the wind, cried with the rain. She angered with fire and bellowed with the ground. Her heart thumped in synchrony with—”

“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.”

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.

He’s fire and brimstone. I’m shattered ice. Our collision is steam and destruction, destined to dissipate, but I’ll gladly burn beneath him until the world comes crumbling down.

“I don’t understand how you still look at me like you want me.” Silence prevails, tension thickens, his eyes burning embers when he finally says, “Raeve, you could flay me down the middle and I’d still fucking love you.”

Only her. The only beam of light I’ll ever need or want in this world, my love for her sitting like a moon in my chest. Only this moon will never fall, no matter how hard she tugs on it.

“This moment is a gift we either waste or treasure, but I’m thankful for it either way. For the time I’ve spent here. I’ve finally learned what it means to live, and I’ll never forget that, Kaan.”