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Back The Night and Its Moon
Chapters (63)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  5. Pronunciation Guide
  6. Prologue
  7. Part One
  8. One
  9. Two
  10. Three
  11. Four
  12. Five
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Part Two
  22. Fourteen
  23. Fifteen
  24. Sixteen
  25. Seventeen
  26. Eighteen
  27. Nineteen
  28. Twenty
  29. Twenty-One
  30. Twenty-Two
  31. Twenty-Three
  32. Part Three
  33. Twenty-Four
  34. Twenty-Five
  35. Twenty-Six
  36. Twenty-Seven
  37. Twenty-Eight
  38. Twenty-Nine
  39. Thirty
  40. Thirty-One
  41. Thirty-Two
  42. Thirty-Three
  43. Thirty-Four
  44. Thirty-Five
  45. Part Four
  46. Thirty-Six
  47. Thirty-Seven
  48. Thirty-Eight
  49. Thirty-Nine
  50. Forty
  51. Forty-One
  52. Forty-Two
  53. Forty-Three
  54. Forty-Four
  55. Forty-Five
  56. Forty-Six
  57. Forty-Seven
  58. Epilogue
  59. Excerpt from The Sun and Its Shade
  60. The Night and Its Moon Playlist
  61. Acknowledgments
  62. About the Author
  63. Back Cover

Her jaw dropped and, with it, her heart.

As she stared into the foreboding shadows and the monstrous screams that emerged from its darkened cage, she felt true fear.

Gadriel and Amaris moved their feet deftly, positioning themselves side by side, as they backed from the center of the stadium. They moved on instinct, putting as much space between themselves and the shadow as possible. Their eyes remained glued on the darkness of the enormous door’s open mouth. Another thundering, unholy shriek pierced the eardrums of everyone in the stadium, causing the two to flinch. They remained on guard as they moved, Amaris with her blade held before her. Gadriel had no weapons, nor did he have his wings.

She comprehended the three syllables the people had been chanting the moment the black, four-legged obsidian snake tore from the dungeons. Its jaw unhinged, revealing layer upon layer of needlelike teeth, jagged and wildly strewn about its horrible maw. Its serpentine neck, unnaturally long and horribly flexible, wriggled skyward as it cried its terrible, hungry call to every unholy beast of the continent. The scarred wings, nearly large enough to fill the coliseum, beat in such a forceful, singular blast that it blew Gadriel and Amaris backward, almost knocking them from their feet. They remained firm though the sharp bites of sand and dirt assaulted their skin as they winced against its force. They stared as the beast adjusted its front feet, planting itself onto the sand and eyeing them with hunger in its demonic, soulless eyes. The crowd invoked the three sadistic syllables of its name over and over as they begged to see the justice of its wrath.

Ag’drurath.

Forty-Six

“Any ideas?” Gadriel exhaled slowly beside her. His empty hands were raised to fight.

“Yeah,” Amaris hissed. “Don’t die.”

In the tumultuous events following her confrontation with Moirai and her reunion with Nox in the jail cell, she’d forgotten an important detail. She remembered the hard point of metal between her breasts. Amaris fished the thin dagger Gadriel had given to her after he’d landed on her balcony from where she had stashed it in her bustier.

She passed it off to him, and even in their moments of peril, he managed sarcasm. “Perfect. I was just thinking if only I had a throwing knife—”

Another demonic shriek cut off any chance at a smart-ass rebuttal.

This was why the walls were so high. How long had this demon been enslaved by the royal family? The snake was covered in the scars, lashings and wounds speaking of abuses that spanned decades, if not centuries. The horrid monster had been carved and mutilated from its eyes and legs to its wings and tail. Odrin had once told her that if she ever came across this beast, she should say her final prayers to the All Mother. Amaris knew one and only one thing of the ag’drurath: they could not be killed.