Chapter 22
Brand was violently wrenched from the bliss of half a night spent tangled around Lunara.
Literally.
The first strike—the one that woke him—was a booted foot to his arse. The second was an immediate punch to the shoulder that sent him flopping onto his back, blinking.
Fucking Solyrian. He was truly exhausted if someone had been able to sneak up on him—especially this arsehole.
Somehow, Lunara slept through the attack. Brand intended to keep it that way.
He extracted himself carefully before rolling again and grasping the fist that was flying for his face.
“I cannot believe you bastards left me behind!” Thad was spitting mad, a vein pulsing in his forehead as his wolf flashed over his features.
“Keep your bloody voice down,” Brand hissed, shoving his cousin away and sitting up.
He’d only just coaxed her back to sleep. Damned if the whelp was going to ruin it.
“Keep my voice down?” Thad laughed, the sound bitter. “Where the fuck is Mag?”
Any other time, Brand might have warned Thaddeus that the male in question was directly behind him, face still creased from his own rest, but he wasn’t feeling generous this morning.
Magnus wrapped a hand around Thad’s nape and hauled him back. His fangs flashed as he growled, “Why are you here, pup? How?”
Thad wrenched himself away. “In case no one has noticed, I’m not a wee fucking bairn anymore. Not a pup. You can both fuck off.”
Lunara mumbled in her sleep and Brand shot up, shoving a hand over Thad’s mouth before he could keep ranting. “I’ll hear your grievances, but kindly quiet down while you do so.”
Thad glared at him over the tops of his fingers, one eye twitching before he slumped and nodded. Satisfied, Brand propelled him deeper into the trees, Magnus at their heels.
Mag’s sigh was heavy when they finally stopped. “First off, does your father know you’re here?”
“Have you lost your mind?” Thad scoffed. “Of course he doesn’t. I had to wait a whole day to sneak past him, else I’d have been here sooner.”
“Sisters fucking save me.” Mag pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not the one who’s lost my mind, lad. Caius is going to be beside himself.”
They stared at one another, the forest coming alive with a warm dawn—in direct opposition to the cold shiver that made its way down Brand’s back.
Thad might be pissed about it, but there was a reason they coddled him. After Meliora’s illness and death, if anything happened to him—
“What in the realms are you doing out here in the woods anyway?”
Thad’s question was like a knife to the gut. Brand could actually hear Mag’s teeth grinding.
“The villagers—”
“Don’t,” Mag whispered, cutting Brand off. “I can’t…”
“What?” Thad looked between the two of them. “Tell me.”
Magnus shook his head. “We have to get you home and clean up your fucking mess.”
“Oh, no. I’ll not be going back with my tail between my legs.” Thad went red, his pent up fury flushing to the surface. “Something’s wrong. You need me, Da doesn’t. I’m staying with you.”
Mag’s hand darted out in a blur and seized Thad’s collar. “Keep pushing it, and I’ll be wringing your fool neck long before Caius does.”
“Go on then! Fucking try it!”
“Hello?” Lunara’s call stopped their scuffle, his brother and cousin freezing.
It took all of Brand’s restraint not to reach out and clobber both of them for waking her up.
She rounded a nearby tree. When her eyes landed on Thad, her head tilted back and she muttered, “Stars and arses,” to the branches overhead.
For her, Thad had the decency to swallow and look away.
“Good morning, Thaddeus,” she said, joining them with a sigh. “We really must stop meeting like this.”
“This isn’t the same,” Thad mumbled.
“No?” She cocked her head to one side, waiting.
Thad slumped, his eyes closing. “Aye, fine. It is.”
Strange, to watch his fiery cousin concede so easily.
“We talked about this. At length, if I recall correctly.” Lunara raised a brow. “Leaving a note is just plain decency and you’re not supposed to use your special tolls anymore. It’s too dangerous.”
Special tolls?
Thad broke away from Mag and sidled up to her, conveniently changing the subject. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me what happened with Glynmor, since these two arseholes won’t?”
“Um…” She blinked and turned pleading eyes to Brand.
Naturally, he looked at his brother.
“Ach, fuck it.” Mag trudged off in the direction of the village. “Just keep your gob shut and have some respect.”
Then, they were gone, leaving him and Lunara alone.
Again.
This isn’t over, Lunara.
Brand knew he was staring, but couldn’t be bothered to care. She was locked on him just as fully.
Fuck, he could take the kiss they’d been denied right now. Could sink his fingers right into her flesh and drag her against him.
“Where’s Hedda?” His voice was hardly more than a scrape. If he didn’t want her so badly, he might’ve been embarrassed.
“Oh. Uh…”
Was that disappointment he heard? Good. Good. He was only asking because he didn’t want to be interrupted again.
They were set to spend the next few days scouring the surrounding land for clues, and he wanted one fucking moment of peace beforehand to ravage her mouth.
To get lost in her and pretend that there was no such thing as the shite piling up on top of him.
That he’d never heard that message, or seen the reality of it.
Wasn’t feeling the threat of its words to his very bones.
Lunara blinked, shaking her head. “She was still snoring when I followed you here.”
That was about the only thing she could have said to quell his building lust.
His Second was the lightest sleeper he knew, the quickest to her feet when under threat, and she didn’t snore. Ever.
Brand should’ve realized something was wrong the instant Hedda wasn’t right beside them while dragging Thad away for an explanation.
The female before him had scrambled his head ten different ways.
“We’d better be waking her up and fetching Faldir, then. We have much to do.”
Damn it.
Hedda was two feet away from her bedroll, face down and drooling in the dirt, and still snoring.
A frisson of worry went through him. The scene was all wrong. She was sprawled out, one foot half buried in the cold ash of the fire pit, hair a mess, flask at her side. Brand couldn’t recall a single time in their lives he’d witnessed her like that. Utterly vulnerable.
“Second, to me.”
Nothing.
“Hedda!”
She didn’t so much as twitch.
Lunara knelt and laid her hand on Hedda’s shoulder. Light shone beneath her fingers, a frown on her lips. “Headache,” she said. “Migraine, actually. Rather severe. Does she often suffer from those?”
Ah. The flask.
Immediately, his heart halted its frenzied gallop, his lungs easing.
“Her cycle causes them.” He nodded to the carved wooden container by her head. “She keeps a tonic with her, just in case. Probably why she’s out of it. But…” He thought back, to the last time Hedda had been indisposed. “It seems too soon for that.”
Lunara tilted her head. “You note such things?”
“She’s like a sister to me. Besides, anyone with a cycle is doted on for the duration of its visit. It’s useful to be able to anticipate them and ensure their care accordingly.”
Her brows punched up. “Blessed moons. I never heard such a thing.” She cast her gaze down to Hedda. “How fortunate for those in the Montrealm.”
“I assume the Sorcerit wave their fingers and never have to feel a thing.”
Lunara busted out laughing. “And you were doing so well.” She used her power to turn Hedda over. “No. It’s taboo to mention it, and we can’t heal ourselves. For many of us, the price of our magic is pain. What makes a cycle any different?”
“That’s barbaric.”
She shrugged. “That’s just the way it is.”
She said it so indifferently, and it pricked at him. He knew she lived alone, but to have so little concern for her own comfort?
Her mouth twisted as she palpated Hedda’s stomach. “She’s fertile, not shedding.” She gently swept Hedda’s hair away and flattened her palms on either temple. “Fortunately—or unfortunately, I suppose—migraines are common at both times. Nothing to worry about.”
Lunara’s face contorted into a grimace and her magic slammed into him, same as every other time. Potent. Massive. A caress and a wallop all at once.
Hedda shot up, gasping and swinging.
“It’s fine, Second. Take a breath.”
She glared up at him. “What the fuck?”
Lunara blew a slow breath through pursed lips as she swayed. “I healed your headache. It can be disorienting, so try to stay calm.”
“Headache?”
“You were out like that one.” Brand hiked a thumb at the comatose Fae on the far side of their camp. “Lunara healed and woke you. How are you feeling?”
Lunara snatched up Hedda’s flask and waved it under her nose. “Where did you get this?”
Hedda twisted to look at Lunara. “Where did you get that?”
“It was on the ground next to you. Brand said it’s yours?”
“Yes, but…” Hedda scrunched her eyes, rubbing her fingers into them. “On the ground? I didn’t get it out. I… had my watch after Brand, woke up Magnus… and then…”
Alarm bells rang when Hedda trailed off and sent him a confused look. “Then?”
She dug a fist into her chest. “I—”
Shouts sounded from the trees, crashing footfalls behind them. Mag and Thad burst into the camp a second later.
“Come quick,” his brother said, chest heaving.
Hedda pushed to wobbly feet, barely keeping hold of her axe as she searched the woods beyond him. “Where is Faldir?”
An eternity passed while Mag stared back at her. “Lass…”
Hedda turned on Brand, that same hand rubbing the spot over her heart. “He’s not… I can’t… Fuck.”
She leapt over the fire pit and stumbled, nearly hitting the dirt before she scrambled away screaming her brother’s name.
Shite. Something was very, very wrong with his Second.
Brand reached down and gripped Lunara’s arm, hauling her from the ground. “Are you well?”
There was a sheen on her pale brow, but she nodded.