Fire In The Moonlight – Lila Mary

A man he crossed borders and broke laws to stand with. He doesn’t know why in the hell Ellund thought he was worth that, rumors or no rumors, yet he won’t complain. He only hopes he can live up to Ellund’s lofty expectations. Something tells Rashan the Kel in a bed beside his master arrangement was just something Ellund made up for Rashan’s comfort—that the true tradition is much closer to a total sharing of space, of minds, of bodies.

Never let it be said that Ellund wasn’t smart as could be. OceanofPDF.com ashan hates waiting. Nothing makes him feel more out of control than waiting. Especially when he’s waiting on someone else, like now. He wants to say something, break something, do something, but all of the above would only hinder this experience. No, he has nothing to do but wait and pace the room until Ellund has finished interrogating this criminal in the confines of his mind.

They were both looking forward to an interrogation the morning after the dinner, but news of the war caught up with Rashan and he had time for nothing but battle reports and orders for two days. Ellund insisted he wasn’t bored, but Rashan knows the look of someone lying when he sees it, and he knows boredom better than most. In the end, Rashan had to order Ellund to leave the office and amuse himself with the kitchens or the gardens or the expansive palace library, get used to what he considers his new home.

Each time Rashan can get him to go out and do something on his own without a fight is a victory. One night, Ellund brought home a book from the palace library, and Rashan had to fight not to pump his fist as he casually asked what it was for. When Ellund replied, “Research into Krellin history and traditions, so that I may better acquaint myself with the intimate problems of your home,” Rashan had to fight disappointment.

That’s alright, though. Small steps. And the time they spend together has proven fruitful in marking Ellund’s independence as well. He’s eating food on his own without even asking if Rashan is eating it, and he’s been ordering the things Rashan specifically doesn’t like.

First edition. June 23, 2026. Copyright © 2026 Lila Mary. Written by Lila Mary. OceanofPDF.com TABLE OF CONTENTS Title Page Copyright Page Dedication 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Also By Lila Mary About the Author OceanofPDF.com for the people who have never fit in OceanofPDF.com I 1 t is midmorning when the knock comes. In particular, it is a snowy morning, when even the act of setting foot outside the warmth of the tent shows your breath and brings a chill to your bones.

Rashan woke early in the frigid air to a messenger bearing battle reports—messages marked urgent that really could’ve waited another hour or two, at least until the sun had crested the mountains. Instead, he had the pleasure of answering those reports with his eyes mostly shut, at least until the scent of bitter coffee brought him to his senses. He sighs, putting another flourishing signature on a casualty report from the northern front.

The number continues to climb, no matter what he tries to do to end the fighting. How many damned times has he extended a hand of peace, and how many times has it been slapped away, for reasons beyond his understanding? Gods, this war. Rashan never thought he’d miss the long days of court, listening to petitioners and whining nobility, but right now, he’d give anything to be back in his office.

At least there, it would be warm without the aid of a high burning fire. If there’s anything he’s learned from being stationed at base camp on the front lines, it’s that cold can wear a man down just as surely as time or hunger. He’s had more than a few prisoners of war surrender to him only so they can get some blasted warmth after long days of staying out in the snow, hiding from patrols.

Just as he opens another missive from Colonel Raktof, the knock comes. He has a wooden knocker set up outside his tent—a better system than shouting through the wind. This knock is brisk, familiar. “Enter,” he says, not looking up from the missive. “What can I do for you, Amandine?”

“I have a prisoner,” she says, more urgency in her voice than he’s used to. “One moment,” Rashan says, reading the last of the missive before he loses its meaning. Hundreds of prisoners come and go through base camp every day. One more can wait. As he reads, a voice reverberates through his very mind. My Revered Firelord. How honored I am to be given the chance to serve you. Rashan drops his quill, nearly knocking over the jar of ink as he shoots to his feet.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Me, the voice replies.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: f15c1222a938de16
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 849,166 bytes (0.81 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 239
• Language: English (en)

Reading & Word Statistics

• Estimated Reading Time: 322.4 minutes
• Total Words: 64,481
• Total Characters: 356,391
• Average Words per Page: 269.79
• Average Characters per Page: 1491.18

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