Chapter 23 #2
Mag’s hand landed on his back, rubbing in large, steady circles. “That’s it, slow your breaths. I know it’s fucked, but where’s this one coming from?”
Magnus had always been able to calm him, but it wasn’t working this time.
“I…” He bent, fingers digging into his thighs as he fought a wave of prickling nausea.
“Brand?”
“I think…” He couldn’t say the word—not even to himself. It would make it too real. Too terrible.
Maybe Mag would understand anyway.
“I think you were right.” Weeping Sisters, was it only yesterday he’d punched his brother for teasing him about it? “You ask if it’s worth it and all I can think is no. No, no, no, not in a million fucking years could losing her be worth it. And yet…”
“It’s Faldir.” Mag nodded, cheeks puffed out with his sigh.
“I”ll have to rage,” Brand whispered.
“I thought that was a given. Has the witchling met the greater?”
Therein lied the problem. “No.”
Revealing that side of him, swaggering and shameless, completely unfiltered…
Mag barked a laugh, damn him. “I’m sorry. This is all fucking dark, but that there is a bonnie bright spot.”
Arsehole.
“I need you to prepare her.” So she doesn’t hie off into the hills, never to be seen again. “I don’t think she’s seen any of us that way.”
“Aye, I’ll handle it.” There was a mischief in his brother’s voice that worried Brand almost as much as raging in front of Lunara.
“Magnus—”
“Ach, and here she is, just in time.”
Brand straightened and something in him eased at the sight of her. She was radiant, skin flushed and shimmering in the sunlight, her steps stronger than before as they made their way across the ravaged field.
She’d fed. And her gift had come from Thad.
He was instantly split in two, caught between a lance of white-hot jealousy and a swell of pride. Lesser and greater, completely at odds.
“A-are we ready,” Lunara asked, not quite meeting his eyes.
The greater half was winning, pushing envy aside until only a single, consuming thought was left. If they headed towards their own doom…
“Leave us. Take Hedda back to the camp while you do.”
Thad’s head popped up. “What?”
Brand turned on his cousin and brother with a withering glare, rage already prickling over him. “I said, leave us. We need a moment before we go.”
The smirk on Mag’s face said he understood all too well. “Come on, pup,” he said, lifting Hedda from the ground.
Brand didn’t bother to watch them go. His eyes were glued to her.
“Are you sure about this?”
Lunara swallowed and glanced behind him, to the gaping maw of the chasm. “No. I’m not, but being sure is a luxury. Faldir is my friend, strange as that is. And I think he is much more than that to you.” She met his gaze again. “Neither one of us would be able to live with it if we walked away.”
She was perfection.
And Brand refused to go to his death without knowing what she felt like melting against him, what she tasted like, at least once.
He stepped up and sank a hand into her hair, his other snaking around her waist to pull her body flush with his. “We might never come back.”
Tears pooled on her lashes. “I know,” she finally said, palms searing when they cupped his face.
He pressed into the touch, into the relief of it. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
Her words from the night before were imprinted on him, her desire for freedom and choice, so easy to give her in the end.
When she remained silent, thumb rasping against his beard, he said, “This isn’t fucking over between us.” Shite, he could hardly breathe. The thought of her dying… “No matter what happens—”
“No.” A crease formed between her brows, sea-blue eyes darting between his. “It isn’t.” As soon as they dropped to his lips, it was over.
Brand surged into her, claiming her mouth with his own. He’d expected her to be soft and yielding, to sink lazily into the supple bliss of her.
He’d been wrong.
Lunara wrapped one arm around his shoulders and met him halfway, clinging as though her life depended on it.
It was her tongue that darted out first, teasing, questioning.
Her teeth that nipped at him and demanded entrance.
She used his gasp to her advantage, dipping in to taste him, her nails digging into his jaw and tearing a rumbling, possessive snarl from him.
All of his lingering reservations evaporated. He was lost in a delirium, every whimper she loosed only adding to his desperation for her.
He palmed her generous arse and hiked her up higher, dragging her heat against the steely length of his cock.
She tore away on a cry, head falling back and gifting him with the exposed column of her throat.
Spine tingling, breaths sawing, he dragged his lips up its center, wanting nothing more than to lay her down in the grass.
But he couldn’t.
Brand used his grip on Lunara’s hair to press their foreheads together, running his nose along hers and already regretting every cursed fucking thing that was forcing him to stop.
“We’ll be finishing this.” He pressed a final kiss to her lips and broke away, putting some distance between them. “Magnus!”
His brother and cousin emerged from the trees, faces blessedly blank.
“Go to Mag,” he said to Lunara. “Stay by his side.”
Brand turned on his heel and urged his feet forward, even though walking away from her had every part of his body screaming, begging him to whip around and never stop touching her again.
Magnus and Thaddeus flanked Lunara as Brand strode away, leaving her dizzy.
Blessed moons, that kiss.
Never, in all her years, had she felt its like. Her lips were swollen, tingling, confused as to why they were no longer drinking him in.
She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to remember how to breathe, how to be. Even her logical half had nothing to say, no words of wisdom to force her thoughts away from it.
Magnus rested a hand on her shoulder and gave her a squeeze.
“It’s a lot to take in, the first time you see a Demon rage.
Fierce bastards, especially him,” he said softly.
“He’s nervous about you seeing it. Shite, he’s probably convinced himself that you’re going to run screaming.
Just be kind, witchling, and he’ll see there’s no need to be concerned. ”
Stunned, she nodded.
If he was warning her, there must be truth to the stories. Maybe the single time she’d seen Lyriat change hadn’t been the full scope of what Demons were capable of.
Lunara couldn’t be bothered to care.
Brand stopped about ten yards away and toed off his boots, tossed his tunic, and planted bare feet into the long grass.
Eyes closing, his nostrils flared as he pulled in harsh breaths. Warm light sprang up from beneath him, shining upwards, and she could actually feel the power flowing from the earth and into him.
Sweet Sisters…
Brand balled his hands into fists and grew before her eyes, his body tensed against its transformation.
A sunstar shape appeared on the center of his chest, and gently glowing sunlight whorls crawled up from the ground.
They writhed across his body in symmetrical patterns, twining around his arms and legs, mimicking the twisting surface of Solyrian.
Crept up either side of his neck, over high cheekbones, across his eyes, and into his auburn hair.
Muscles bulged and limbs lengthened as his skin took on a faint, muddy-red hue, his trousers shortening and stretching tight over massive thighs.
His head tilted in an eerie, jerking fashion as his horns started to thicken.
They flared out and curled, wrapping down towards his ears, spiraling until violent points jutted forward, caging and protecting his skull.
Another two sets sprouted from his forehead and temples, winding upwards and angling outwards, crowning him with a raw, primitive majesty.
He clenched his jaw and growled, lips peeling back as two razor-sharp fangs punched from the top line of his teeth to flank their perfectly straight brethren. Claws sprang from his fingertips, and he flexed them wide.
One hand shot out, and the light patterns seemed to concentrate there, blazing brighter. A broad, wicked blade came to life, forming in an instant as he gripped his fist around the hilt.
The greatsword he’d told her about.
He swung it over his head and behind him, where the blade fused itself to his bare spine, the horned handle and pommel protecting the back of his head. The weapon moved with him, as much a part of his body as any other appendage.
Brand locked eyes with her—the same beautiful, hazel eyes—before he arched his back and released a shattering roar to the sky, sending countless birds scattering into the air.
The light faded from his body and he snarled, hands at his sides and chest heaving as he finally settled.
Lunara’s entire being trembled, completely drawn to him, her feet moving of their own accord.
There was a male any creature would hesitate to challenge. Even a mythical dreadbeast.
Shitting stars.
He was more than twice her height, but she was in awe. She knew him well enough already—knew the goodness in his heart and the sweetness of his mind—that fear never once occurred to her.
“Brand,” she breathed, closing the final distance between them.
He dropped to one knee. Deep sienna markings stained his reddened skin everywhere the light had passed, and Lunara itched to reach up and run her fingers along the patterns to see if they’d left the sunstar’s heat behind.
“Luna.” His voice was a purr, so low and gravelly that she could actually feel it vibrating in her bones.
Wait.
She jolted. “Luna?”
“Hmm.” Something like a chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Yes. Luna, the fierce little moon. Not frightened of me in the least.”
Oh. That’s… Oh.
Heart speeding up, she spared a glance back at Magnus, raising her voice just a little. “It’ll take more than this to send me screaming.”
Brand pressed his brow to hers, careful not to catch her with his horns. “Trust me”—his gaze flicked down to her lips before meeting hers again—“this will not be the form I take when I finally make you scream.”
“Oh… my…” Lunara blinked rapidly.
“Aye, about that.” Magnus cleared his throat. “Did I forget to mention that he goes a bit feral like this? Now you know. Sisters be with you.”
Brand slapped a hand to the ground with a growl, magic snaking out. The earth lurched in a wave and slammed into Magnus, sending him flying for a few feet before he crashed down.
Lunara’s smirk was wicked, even as her thoughts tangled.
Maybe… if Brand could be trusted…
Maybe even the Council would hesitate.
“Alright,” Magnus grumbled as he stood and brushed himself off. “Go ahead and get it in while you can. I’ll be waiting when you shrink back, you wee shite.”
Brand huffed and rose to his full height. “May I pick you up, little moon? I would keep you safe, but the choice is yours.”
He… remembers?
Sisters above. All the madness around them, the threat to their lives, and all she could think was that she wanted to keep him.
Dangerous. So dangerous.
When she nodded, he bent and scooped her into his arms with a hum of satisfaction, adjusting her until she was settled in the crook of one elbow.
“Hedda will not wake up without me willing it,” she said. “A good thing, for now, but… if the worst should happen, find Cordelia the Firebane. She’ll know what to do.”
Magnus’s hands balled into fists. “Come back, and I won’t have to.” His voice was tight, a shade of itself. “Please. Be careful.”
Brand stared at his brother for a long moment before walking them to the edge of the chasm.
He stopped just shy of the drop and reached out.
A flat section of earth rumbled forth, then another, and another, forming a series of platform steps along the cliffside until they disappeared into the darkness.
He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to him, eyes boring into hers. “Ready?”
The way he looked at her, almost worshipful. It was… everything, she realized.
Everything the Council had stolen from her all those years ago when they’d chosen a monster over her parents. Power, over the safety of Nachthelliae. All of the potential in that look—the unspoken promises, the glimpse of a future—just out of her reach.
Because of them.
Lunara stole a precious, fleeting moment to memorize the perfection and pretend she could have it forever—and then she tucked it away, knowing it could never be anything more than a dream.
Especially if the Veil awaited them. Their end.
“I’m ready.”
She laid her hands to his bare chest and a kaleidoscope of radiant light flowed, spreading out and over their bodies. The shadows closest to them cringed away from the shield, recoiling and hiss—
A faraway scream echoed up from the deep.
Male. Pained.
Proof.
Terror threatened to choke her, everything more real, more urgent, but she ignored it.
Faldir needed them. Now.
“Go, Brand.”
One step down, another, and they were plunging into the abyss.