Chapter 7
Lunara wasn’t sure how long it had been since she’d started—she couldn’t even be sure it was the same day. There were vague recollections hovering in her memory of someone coming in here and there, leaving food, bringing a chair up beside her.
If her life depended on it, though, she wouldn’t have been able to say who’d visited or whether they’d spoken. She’d had no energy for anything other than Baldrir.
Stars above, Baldrir.
Whoever had delivered such cruelty upon him was… there weren’t words. Far worse than any of the others likely realized, but Lunara would not be disclosing the extent of the damage. The indignity of it. The Demon should be allowed to decide whether to share, when he was ready.
If he was ever ready.
For his sake, Lunara hoped Baldrir couldn’t remember. That every part had been lost forever in a merciful haze. If not, she might be able to help him forget anyway.
His body, at least, was finally at ease.
Lunara finished cleaning away the dried blood and lingering filth, and covered him in a long, linen tunic.
She had no idea whether it was a garment the Demons were used to, but his skin would feel sensitive for a few days—too new and raw for anything he might have been used to before—and he would need the room it provided.
Anyone who saw him would never know what had been done to him. He looked peaceful. Young and proud. Vibrant in his rest.
As for Lunara, she’d hardly moved from her perch beside him, and her body was convinced it was the only position she was capable of from now until the end of forever.
She spotted the deep, cushioned chair beside the bed from the corner of her eye, definitely closer than it had been before—thank the Sisters and whoever had thought of it.
Right. It isn’t even far. Just twist, push, collapse.
Easier said than done, unfortunately.
Bracing a hand against the mattress, she blew out a slow breath. Then another. Convincing herself it wouldn’t be so bad—that it wouldn’t be exactly like the last time, and the time before—was always the hardest part.
Lunara knew the truth, though. Hence her stalling.
Go on, then. Get it over with.
With a hissing gasp, she turned herself and flopped onto her stomach, her useless legs dangling from the bed. With arms that could barely hold her, she leveraged her torso and shoved backwards.
She hit the seat, the chair’s legs screeching across the floor. Shallow breaths and gritted teeth were her only answer to the anguish as every nerve ending went up in flames.
And cursing.
“Shitting Sisters’ tits.” A whimper left her against her will, her joints dripping in acid. “Veil fucking take me.”
Just settle in and let the jagged edges soften. It’s fine. You’re fine.
Surely the Demon King wouldn’t mind if Lunara lived in this cushy seat for the rest of her life. She could request it as her payment.
Slowly—so, so terribly slowly—the stabbing, burning sensation dissipated, and a heavy sigh left her. Only dull throbs remained in their place, flaring and retreating in waves. This, Lunara could handle.
Good thing Baldrir’s sleep wasn’t a natural one. The jostling she’d just given him would have woken anyone else.
A tray of cheese, bread, and various fruits had been placed on a low table butted up against the chair arm. And, if her eyes were not deceiving her, a goblet of blood.
Something between a laugh and a sob bubbled out of her, and Lunara let her hand fall to the rim. Gripping it as tightly as she was able, she wished all the goodness that Bordoroth had to offer upon the wonderful, lovely creature who’d brought it to her.
“Please, hand,” she whispered into the silence. “Please don’t drop it.”
It wouldn’t work as well as blood gifted straight from the source—an intimate experience if ever there was one, and something she absolutely avoided—so it was perfect. It would subdue the worst of her symptoms and allow her to relax without regaining too much of her power.
“Cheers, Baldrir. To your continued health.”
With both hands clenched around it, she brought the cup to her lips and managed a sip. As soon as a modicum of strength came back to her, Lunara tipped her head back and gulped the rest down, trembling with desperation.
Relief was so instantaneous that Lunara was breathless with it. The fog lifted, evaporating from her head and limbs, clarity returning with each spark of life down her reviving nerve endings.
The melting came next, a sweet exhaustion that laid over her like a blanket.
Her eyelids began to droop and—
Snap out of it! You can’t fall asleep yet.
Right. No matter how much she wanted to.
Lunara gave herself a few hard slaps on the cheek and sat up. There was no controlling the groan that escaped as she stood, dragging her leaden body across the room.
Those who cared about Baldrir needed their own relief.
A young Demon shot up from a bench across the way.
She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five or thirty, all round cheeks and wide eyes.
Her hair was stunning, too. The deepest black, knotted and braided over and around her tawny horns in an intricate pattern that reminded Lunara of a crown of flowers.
And made her a little envious. She’d never been able to tame a single strand of her own wild mane.
“Please, my lady,” the female said, her voice ragged. “Is he well?”
“Yes, he will be—”
With a cry, the Demon pushed by and rushed into Baldrir’s room, falling to her knees beside the bed. “Bal? It’s Nyri. Can you hear me?”
“—fine.” Lunara propped herself against the doorjamb, too tired to bother with trying to interfere. “No, he can’t. Which is better for him right now. And you would be?”
“Nyriadne, my lady,” she said. “Baldrir’s sister. But everyone calls me Nyri.”
“Ah.” Lunara softened instantly. “Well, Nyri, he won’t be waking up tonight. I’ve made sure of that, for his sake.” Stars above, it was so hard to keep her own eyes open. “I don’t suppose you could tell me where I might find the Wolflord Thaddeus, or any of his companions who called me here?”
Nyri wobbled as she rose, dashing a tear away with the back of her hand. “Thank you.” She crossed the room and threw her arms around Lunara. “Thank you so much, my lady.”
Lunara winced, squeezing her eyes shut against the searing pressure. The blood helped her to function, but she was still sensitive, every inch of her like a tender bruise. “Right, um…”
Nyri released her, at last. “I’m so pleased to see you up and about as well, my lady. We’ve all been worried sick for the two of you these last few days.”
Days. Plural.
No wonder she felt like a comet had landed on top of her.
“Please, call me Lunara.” She tried to subtly rub at her temple, to relieve the headache threatening there. “I am no one of note, and certainly no lady. Just… me.”
“Lunara,” Nyri said, offering a bubbly curtsy. “Oh, it’s such a weight lifted! I thought I was going to be all alone, but now I’m not. He’s well, you’re well, and the others will want to see you right away.”
Nyri hooked an arm through one of Lunara’s, her long legs taking one step for Lunara’s every stumbling two down the hallway. “Um, Nyri?”
“Yes, my lady? Erm, Lunara.”
She nearly fell over when they careened around a corner. “Perhaps we could walk a bit slower? I’m not quite up to running at the moment.”
“Oh!” Lunara crashed into Nyri’s side when she stopped dead. “Of course. I’m so sorry. I should have thought. I’m just so excited!”
The pace was far more manageable as they came upon a connecting corridor. “It’s nothing,” Lunara said, hushed and distracted, her eyes taking everything in. “I’m just tired, is all.”
Twenty people could have walked down the passageway side-by-side, with room to spare.
Beams and trusses soared above them, supporting glass panes that made it seem like they were walking amongst the towering trees outside.
Massive stones had been embedded up the length of the wooden supports, most of them bigger than she was tall, and they glowed with a golden light that made everything seem like a dream.
“It’s no wonder you’re tired, with all that work.” Nyri squeezed her hand. “They tried to keep me out of it so I wouldn’t know how bad it was, since everyone is always underestimating me, but I have my ways.”
Lunara could hear in the tone of Nyri’s voice that she was just waiting for someone to ask exactly what those ways were. “Do tell.”
“I bribed the warrior they originally assigned to the night watch and took his place.” Her giggle was infectious, and Lunara couldn’t help but smile.
“They were too distracted to notice that it was me sitting there instead of Dendir. We do not look alike, so I’m not sure whether I should be offended.
Anyway, it was almost too easy to convince him.
He’d be in so much trouble if anyone ever found out, but it won’t be me who tattles because it got me close to Bal. Been here every night since.”
Another turn, and they left the glass hall behind. If she’d thought that one was grand, it was nothing in comparison to what Lunara assumed was the main part of the castle.
The beams had been intricately carved into snakelike creatures with fins and fangs, their gigantic mouths holding stone fish that glowed like lanterns.
Tiles shone in the floor as well, the mosaic of green and blue and ivory seeming to flow beneath her feet.
It reminded her of the lakes and rivers back home, the way they reflected the endless pinpricks of light in the night sky above.
At the end, two Demon warriors stood either side of a set of doors. She tried to ignore the flush of disappointment that neither of them was the male from before. The one who’d moved so deftly to save her from herself. Whose face was the stuff of fantasy.
More fool her for even entertaining a notion so ridiculous as flirtation when she was supposed to be getting herself home as quickly as possible.