BooksBarbecue
Back The Night and Its Moon Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  6. Pronunciation Guide
  7. Prologue
  8. Part One
  9. One
  10. Two
  11. Three
  12. Four
  13. Five
  14. Six
  15. Seven
  16. Eight
  17. Nine
  18. Ten
  19. Eleven
  20. Twelve
  21. Thirteen
  22. Part Two
  23. Fourteen
  24. Fifteen
  25. Sixteen
  26. Seventeen
  27. Eighteen
  28. Nineteen
  29. Twenty
  30. Twenty-One
  31. Twenty-Two
  32. Twenty-Three
  33. Part Three
  34. Twenty-Four
  35. Twenty-Five
  36. Twenty-Six
  37. Twenty-Seven
  38. Twenty-Eight
  39. Twenty-Nine
  40. Thirty
  41. Thirty-One
  42. Thirty-Two
  43. Thirty-Three
  44. Thirty-Four
  45. Thirty-Five
  46. Part Four
  47. Thirty-Six
  48. Thirty-Seven
  49. Thirty-Eight
  50. Thirty-Nine
  51. Forty
  52. Forty-One
  53. Forty-Two
  54. Forty-Three
  55. Forty-Four
  56. Forty-Five
  57. Forty-Six
  58. Forty-Seven
  59. Epilogue
  60. Excerpt from The Sun and Its Shade
  61. The Night and Its Moon Playlist
  62. Acknowledgments
  63. About the Author
  64. Back Cover

Amaris’s heart tugged at the thoughtful gesture. She copied his actions, placing the branch beneath her to create a thin barrier between herself and the earth as she balled herself up for sleep. She curled her knees against her chest, huddling as tightly as she could. So much had happened between sunrise and sunset. That very morning she’d been with Nox. It was in the violet lights of dawn that Nox’s dark eyes had opened and she had silently dressed as she prepared to run with her. But between Millicent, the dagger, the matrons, and the escape, it felt as though a lifetime had passed.

Sleeping on the forest floor, tucked into a tight ball under her cloak, made for the coldest, most miserable night of her young life. She couldn’t imagine how much more frigid the night might have been if this cut of evergreen kept her any warmer than some bleak alternative. Amaris’s mind thought of the frozen meats that were stored in the boxes chipped from ice in the winter and that rested in the snowbanks beyond Farleigh’s doors. She was willing to bet that her thighs resembled the frostbitten slabs of beef that had been thawed and cooked in the orphanage’s kitchens. Except, she had yet to defrost if something hoped to eat her.

Between the dull pulse of her healing wounds, the burn of her muscles, the maddening hurt of her tailbone, and the deeply bone-chilling temperatures, Amaris was quite certain she was in the most pathetic state she’d ever been.

There were no hooting owls to keep her company this time. Every so often, the moonlight revealed something as glossy shapes reflected against its silver beams. She would have sworn the yellow orbs of eyes stared right back at her.

She was scared. She was frozen. She hurt like no other.

None of it mattered.

She welcomed the pain like a new friend. She invited the chill to invade her muscles, her blood, her bones. Amaris didn’t doubt her decision. She would rather freeze to death or be eaten by whatever unholy monster looked at her between the gaps in trees than have left with the jewel-toned Madame in her glossy, black carriage. Not a single stab of pain, twinge of fear, or dread of the future as she lay on the forest floor made her wish she were in Millicent’s possession.

Somehow, she slept.

It hadn’t been a long sleep, nor was it a restful one. However cold she’d been in the late hours of night was nothing compared to the frigid immobility she felt in the early morning. Her fingers were stiff. Her ears burned with the early signs of frostbite before she began chafing her cloak against them to get the blood flowing. It was not yet sunrise, and the pewter sky was all the light they needed to get going.