Chapter 25 #2
When one decided it was hungry enough, it leapt across the chasm in a lightning-swift blur and whipped across the land searching for any living flesh to shred and devour.
Thodeleborian legend claimed them as the reason for the Wolflords’ ability to shift—a gift from the Sisters, that they could be just as monstrous as the creature hunting their lands and livestock, their people.
Except, instead of being in the Ghostwood, there was an entire army of them growing in a Dread Chasm—enough to easily overrun the Westrealm.
It only took one to end his own life.
Luna spun, wholly unaware of what loomed behind as she dragged the shield towards her.
Brand was screaming, begging, the sound far away as he beat and clawed and pushed against the barrier.
Inches away. He’d been only inches away when its claws were suddenly buried in her back, straight through her abdomen, her blood staining and dripping from their ivory lengths.
She didn’t make a sound. Didn’t cry out, didn’t gasp. Just turned sea-blue eyes on him, her brows scrunching, confused, before she ran shaking fingers over the spikes jutting from her.
The second the shield engulfed her and the Forgotten, a roar tore past his lips and he was jumping, greatsword singing through the air.
Brand didn’t give a fuck when its head tumbled to the ground. Didn’t pay attention to the bodies crowding in around him. He landed and was with her in an instant, catching Luna before she could crumple.
“It’s okay, you’re okay.”
He held the Forgotten’s limp arm as it fell, keeping it still as he knelt and gathered her to himself. A red mist flew past her lips when she coughed, landing on his skin, and he wanted to burn the entire fucking world down.
A cluster of fledgling Forgotten had been trapped inside the shield, swarming him like gnats, little more than a nuisance at his size.
Still, when claws slashed across his thigh, he swung blindly, shrieks in the wake of his sword’s edge.
More piled against the outside of the barrier, scraping their nails down its sides, groaning as they tried to get in.
Ignoring them, Brand turned Luna and pulled the long spikes from her back, pressing his hand to the gush of red as each one left her.
“B—Br—” Her lids slipped closed even as her lips tried to work.
“Shh. I’ve got you. You’re going to be fine.”
It was easy to lie if it comforted her.
Mag’s question echoed—Is one male really worth the risk?—and Brand finally had his answer.
No. Sisters forgive him, but no.
He was on his feet without another thought, running back the way they’d—
The shield stuttered, blinking in bursts before glowing around them again.
“Luna?” Weeping Sisters, he wanted to shake her. “Stay with me. Stay. Please.”
The shield winked out—and didn’t come back.
“Fuck. Fuck!”
Dust skittered as his legs ate the distance, the ground rumbling. Without her power to stop them, the Forgotten were gaining, even half-formed as they were. And the shadows were slinking down from above, snapping out to test the air, like they were unsure whether it was safe for them yet.
Any minute, they would realize and come for them.
“Heal yourself, damn you.” His breaths sawed as his eyes landed on the last step he’d made, so close and yet so fucking far away. “Use some of that ridiculous power and do something.”
Brand called to the rock and the earth, tearing down huge swaths of the chasm walls behind him, screeches echoing in the near distance before they were buried.
A sting in his chest, and he looked down to find Luna staring back, nails digging into him.
“C-c-can’t.” Sweat soaked the hair at her scalp, her lips void of all color.
“You can. You can!”
He hugged her tighter and searched for their nascent bond, desperate to use what he fucking knew was there. Brand would give her his own willpower, his strength. Anything.
The shield formed around them, tight to their bodies but so dreadfully dim.
“Yes, that’s it. You’re fine. It’s fine.”
His feet hit the landing and he leapt, launching into the dark and commanding a new one to form. And another. Up and up, until he reached the stairs from before and made himself climb faster than he ever had before.
“Need… b-bl-ood.” Each word was its own crushing burden, Luna gasping between syllables.
He knew that. Had wanted to make it to the surface, to safety, but there wasn’t time.
Brand spun and slammed his fist into the cliffside, picturing a cave tall and wide enough to fit him comfortably, a raised platform for her to rest upon.
Power flowed out of him and pebble-sized sections of rock compressed and collapsed in a blur.
Indents grew into holes, and the holes spread wider and wider until they ran into each other, forming a small opening.
He pushed into the space and sealed the wall behind as a small cavern erupted around them.
With a thought, he commanded some of the stone to glow, imbuing the cave with a soft light that was entirely at odds with the situation.
“Almost there. Hold on.”
He rushed to the back when the stone bed appeared, setting her down as gently as he was able.
Glassy eyes stared back at him, almost black as blown pupils swallowed the normally vibrant blue of her irises—until she spasmed and they rolled back into her skull.
Terror seized him. “Don’t you fucking dare!” he shouted, his colossal hand grotesque against her pale shoulder as he jostled her. “Don’t do this, little moon. Don’t do this to me.”
With no idea of what else to do, Brand bit down, tore a gash in his wrist, and grabbed her face. He held his bleeding arm over her open mouth and watched his blood trickled into her, stray droplets hitting her lips and chin.
When absolutely nothing happened, he roared to the cave ceiling, slumping over her limp and lifeless form when there was no breath left in him. “I swear to the stars, Luna,” he croaked, “I will follow you into the Veil myself if you don’t come back to me right now.”
He pushed her hair away from her face and begged the Sisters to help him.
That was when the anger came. The blinding, consuming fury at the sheer injustice of it.
“What the fuck were you doing? When will you learn to bloody well stop and think?”
The last word echoed. Think, think, think.
“Fuck.” He pried her mouth open to expose her fangs, shoving their razored points down into the meat of his hand. “It’s a gift, damn you. Freely given. Take it.”
He massaged her throat, coaxing her to swallow, to force it down—ignoring how still her chest was, how sickeningly fucking silent she was.
It had to work. It had to.
A tear dropped from his lashes and landed on her face, sliding down to disappear into her hair.
“You stubborn fool. All I wanted was for you to care as much for yourself as you do for the rest of the fucking world.” He kissed her brow.
“Please.” Her cheeks. “I never even had the chance to tell you—”
On a shrieking gasp, she jolted upright, narrowly avoiding his curling horns. Brand rolled back to give her room, leaning as she scrambled up. He couldn’t help his laugh. The burn in his hand, the way her fangs had sliced away, was the most wonderful pain in all of Bordoroth.
Her shoulders heaved as she stood there, facing away, the sound of her heavy breaths filling the silence. It was music. It was everything.
Brand sat up, planting his feet on the floor, and laid a hand on her back. “Luna?”
She whipped around to face him, hissing, her sharp, white fangs longer than before and flashing in the dim lighting.
Drops of his blood dripped from her chin to land on her chest, blending with the mess that was already there.
But, beneath the shredded forest linen of her dress, he watched her flesh pulling and knitting.
The holes sealing themselves back together, as if they’d never happened.
Somehow, he could hardly be bothered to notice.
Brand was too stunned by the fact that the whole of her eyes had changed into a swirling vortex of silver and white. That every inch of her exposed skin was glowing. Humming.
Luna stilled when she saw him, tilting her head like a curious animal. Her gaze roamed over him, hooded and heavy, until she licked one fang and groaned, a look of ecstasy sweeping over her features.
Lids lifting slowly, she stared straight into his eyes and rasped, “Mate.”