Chapter 14 #3
Remembering the way everyone had looked at her earlier, Lunara was nauseatingly certain that particular cat might be well out of its bag.
“The Wolflord Who Ravished Her.” He raised a questioning brow, his lips pinched between his teeth, and a giggle bubbled up out of her.
“Well who doesn’t like bodice-ripping and swooning?”
She watched the apple in his throat bob as he swallowed. “Who, indeed.”
“Besides, I had to find a way to experience the other realms somehow.”
“Yes, and what better way than this. Let’s see…
” He thumbed through the pages before stopping and cracking the spine open.
“‘Axanderus shifted, his drenched fur sinking into wet, golden skin right before my eyes. Still dripping, he flexed his hard, rippling muscles, stalking stealthily towards me as I fingered my moist—’” He practically choked on the last word before turning a panicked look toward her.
They stared into each other’s eyes for a split second before they both burst into uncontrollable laughter.
“I didn’t say it was good!” she squealed, wrapping her arms around her stomach. For once, the soreness there had nothing to do with using power she didn’t have.
It was freer than she’d ever seen him. Not that a couple of days was much to go on.
She wasn’t sure when Solyrian had finally dipped below the horizon, making way for the moons to hover in the sparkling night sky, but Lunara let some of their light in to bolster her. Just a drop to ease the clenching in her gut.
Blame it on the twilight and cocooning shadows. They made her brave. Reckless. Made her want more than giggles and sad stories that only reminded her how damned alone she was.
Except she wasn’t. Not tonight, at least.
And neither was Brand.
As he sighed and wiped the tears from his eyes, face hidden in the darkness, Lunara had the wild thought that, maybe, he might like to know it.
She tangled a curl in her fingers, her eyes dancing over the twinkling lights of the Horned City. “I understand, by the way.”
What are you doing? Are you completely mad?
She somehow found the courage to look at him. “About the crippling thoughts, I mean.”
You are. You’ve lost your mind.
Stars above, he went so still. Frozen, like ice had formed in his veins and was holding him there.
There’s still time. You can still back out or make something up.
“We speak to ourselves in the cruelest tone, don’t we?” Lunara said softly, chewing her lip.
Brand’s ragged breaths joined the sounds of evening as his hazel stare searched hers, pleading. She couldn’t tell whether he was asking her to stop or begging her to go on.
You’re in it now, you daft witch. It’ll either help tremendously or make the foreseeable future absolutely unbearable.
She forced her eyes to stay on his, even though every particle of her body was begging her to look away.
To protect that part of herself she’d never shared before.
“It’s your voice, but… not. Words you would never say, thoughts you would never have, feelings you’ve never felt for another—you direct it inwards, tenfold.
It becomes a mantra that you beat against yourself, murmured painfully in the silence of your own mind. ”
Dramatic, much?
“Somehow, you endure every jagged, horrible whip against your being and convince yourself it applies only to you. No one else is ever as useless as you know yourself to be.”
He leaned back, ever so slightly, his jaw ticking. Seeing it, Lunara couldn’t help but note the stiff set of his shoulders. The trembling flex of his hands.
Sisters forgive her if she was wrong for doing it, but Lunara couldn't resist. She sent out a thread of power, silently thanking Lyriat for his gift of blood as she once again searched for Brand’s heartbeat.
When the pounding, stuttering rhythm reached her ears, a kindred ache bloomed within her own chest.
She placed a palm there, digging it in. “All the while, your heart works as though to claw its way out of you. Your air comes in gasps. Your vision blurs along with reality, and time twists, until the only possible thought is ‘how can I escape this?’” A rueful laugh slipped loose, the flippant mask dropping into place to cover her discomfort.
“Busying myself is often my answer, though sometimes… sometimes I hide, because it’s all too much. ”
The longer Brand sat there unmoving, his gaze boring into her, the more she was convinced she’d made a horrible mistake.
Great. You’ve broken him. Probably only needed half of that speech, and it still would have been ridiculous.
“See? I’m doing it to myself right now.” Bitterness sat heavy on the words, coating her tongue.
Lunara let go of her spell, unable to bear the overwhelming sound of their hearts crying out in furious tandem any longer.
Probably best you find a way to get your arse out of—
“Yes,” he finally rasped. “Yes, exactly.”
Sweet relief barreled over her.
“It’s the same for you, then?” His tentative words were as much a confession as they were a question.
“Unfortunately.”
Brand ran his hand along one horn, nodding as he looked to the ground.
“Do you have anything that helps? Any… one?” she asked quietly.
She had no business asking such a personal question, but as she’d already reminded herself—she was in it now. May as well find out before she let herself get too close to him. Let herself imagine things that had no place in her life.
He swallowed and shook his head. “Woodcarving,” he admitted, voice low as he raised the block she’d just made him. “When it’s too much, I go to my workshop. Everything is easier there.”
What were the bleeding odds of that?
Lunara melted, then blurted, “I weave the moonlight, and make silly things out of it.”
Sweet baby Sisters in a cradle. Back to madness! Didn’t get revealing enough for you with the king? One person knows so it’s time to scream your truths from the mountaintops, is that it? Bleeding, fucking ninny.
She bit the inside of her cheek, wishing she could silence what was probably the wiser part of herself and enjoy this moment.
He was staring again. Even if her head hadn’t been cranked back to look up at him, she would have known that his piercing eyes were fixed on her. The sensation of it was unlike anything she’d ever known.
It was like stepping under a waterfall. No fear of drowning, no worry. Just the freedom of throwing her arms out and feeling it pummel into her before the cascade turned to a skimming caress down her skin.
Or you’ve cooked it all up with your harebrained imagination and are now spouting absurdly saccharine poetry about something that isn’t really there.
The need to fidget was overwhelming. It took all of her strength to resist the pull to worry a curl in her fingers or swing her dangling feet—anything to expel whatever was building up within her.
She didn’t know where to look or how to be.
Whether she should sway into him like she wanted to or sprint away like her mind was insisting she do.
It’s fine. You’re fine. Just—
“I know Solyrian has held you captive today, but…” He reached up to catch a strand of hair fluttering in the breeze, his thumb barely brushing the shell of her ear as he tucked it away. “You have your own light, Lunara.”
Oh… Well then. That’s…
“Thank you for sharing it with me.” He looked away. Back to the sprawling city and its luminous lanterns. To the silvered waves of the sea. “Just… thank you.”