Chapter 26
A bolt of lightning shot down Brand’s spine and something within him was unleashed.
Mate.
It didn’t matter that he’d already suspected. Known. It was a shock to hear that boldly-spoken word on her lips—an immediate claiming of his soul.
Like a flash, Luna hopped up onto the platform to stand between his spread legs. She gripped the sharp ends of his curling horns and jerked his head down to hers, her strength astonishing.
Brand leaned into the contact when she nuzzled his cheek with her own and sighed, the relief overwhelming.
“Does my mate have a gift for me?”
She was alive. She was well. She was his.
“Anything,” Brand rasped.
He’d nearly lost her, before they’d even had a chance to make something for themselves. Whatever she wanted from him, for the rest of time, was hers.
Luna chuckled. A husky, life-giving sound that burrowed right into him and set his heart to pounding.
Her power skimmed over his skin, healing his various wounds as she placed a tender kiss against his ear. “I accept your gift,” she whispered.
Without warning, she shoved him, his back hitting the platform with a thud.
She climbed over his gargantuan body, her soft curves pressing into him.
Careful of his size, he settled a hand over her thighs, his thumb straying up to stroke her lush arse.
She moaned, spread dainty hands across his chest, and licked the spot over his heart.
Brand jerked when Luna’s fangs sank into the flesh there and a wave of rapture followed the sting, crashing over him as she drank—not at all like when he’d been the one to force them into himself.
He writhed beneath her, helpless not to when met with her little mewls of pleasure, the pull of her lips.
All thoughts emptied out of his mind when she rubbed herself against his abdomen with a slow, sensuous roll of her body. Then another.
All but one.
Feet planted to the floor, he willed his change, using what little focus he had left to slow his breaths. Bones snapped as they shrank. His head ached as his horns reverted to their normal state, three sets into one. He clenched his teeth as his fangs disappeared back into bruised gums.
Brand wanted to enjoy her fully.
A rumbling growl escaped him when he was finally back to himself and his lesser size meant her center was pressed directly over the hard length of his cock, still grinding against him.
Brand might have preferred managing the situation—learning her on his terms and ensuring she was sated, drinking in her gratification to feed his own—but her pleasure was his, and it didn’t matter how she received it.
He was a willing tool, delighted to be used by her, requiring nothing in return to feel content to his very marrow.
With a rasping moan, he latched on to her wide hips.
She whimpered and scraped her nails over his chest in response, up the sides of his neck, fisting his hair tight to leverage her body.
The sting only added to his own satisfaction, multiplied by the hard tips of her breasts digging in and dragging against him while she moved.
She picked up speed, and he groaned, “Take from me. Everything. It’s yours.”
Brand wasn’t sure whether to rejoice or lament the fact when she detached her fangs from him and reared back, rising above him. He reveled in the stain of red on her lips, the trail of his blood down her chin, dripping with every one of her thrusts.
She was wild. Feral. Perfect.
Her hands left him to grab hold of her own breasts, plucking at her taut nipples through the thin fabric. The reminder that she went bare beneath her clothes did nothing to help his own composure.
“Fuck.” His balls tightened, and Brand clenched his teeth, breathing through the tension gathering at the base of his spine, the building need to release.
She went taut, silent, a deep furrow in her brows as her mouth fell open on a silent scream.
“Look at me.”
It was a reflex to demand it, but Brand gasped when she instantly obeyed.
He still held the control. Could still worship her, command her, and nothing was lost in their positioning.
Lunara came apart with a keening cry, her hooded eyes locked on his as she jerked and spasmed.
Yes. He would have her know who laid beneath her, aware of his submission as she extracted her bliss. It wasn’t something he gave lightly. No one else had ever received this surrender from him, this yielding. It was hers—only hers—and he wanted her to see it.
His lips peeled back as he ground himself against her. Harder, faster. Drawing out her pleasure, fingers sunk so deep into the lush flesh of her hips, her thighs, that he was sure to leave bruises.
He’d gift her more of his blood, kiss each one away later. She would want for nothing ever again.
Brand flipped their positions as she sagged, pressing her languid body into the cool stone and seizing her lips with his before tearing away and standing.
He wanted to behold her before he ravaged her.
To take in the way her ruined dress had tangled up around her thighs, the way her flushed skin refracted the light and sent faint opal rainbows back at him.
The way her chest rose and fell on heavy breaths, alive.
He needed more, to reassure himself. Needed to taste the life in her sweet cunt. Watch it twitch and drip. Feel her wrapped around his tongue, his fingers, his—
Lunara curled up on her side with a yawn, the exquisite hills and valleys of her curves on display as her delicate hands cushioned her head and she went lax. Fast asleep, just like that.
Brand huffed a laugh, even as tears welled.
One long lock of chestnut hair flowed over her cheek, the rest of the wild mass spread over the platform behind her, and he bent to sweep it away.
What in the realms had he done to deserve such a blessed gift? It was almost too much.
Gaze never leaving her, Brand commanded the stone to cocoon them further, reinforcing the cave to keep them safe within. To keep anything and everything else out.
As he finally settled in behind her and let his own eyes close on a sigh, Brand knew he would remember this moment forever. When Lunara, the little moon, became his.
“Mate,” he whispered, from the depths of his soul. At last.
Claws long as she was tall skewered through her, ripping her in half, stealing her future before she’d lived it. They were almost gentle as they left her body gaping, gushing, unable to draw air.
Hazel eyes begged for more than she had to give. The life was bleeding out of her, darkness consuming her—both from the outside and from within.
A rush of desperate energy barreling in, such as she’d never felt before. Just enough to save him—her final act.
Dust and stone and screams before she was laid to rest in golden light by hands that stole her breath and sense. Hands she would never feel again once the Veil opened its arms for her instead.
One last look before a wave of blinding pain that put all the rest to shame, and Lunara the Moonweaver met her grisly end.
Fucking stars above, she was de—
Lunara awoke on a gasp, frantically clutching her stomach.
Whole. Entirely healed, as if that thing had never touched her.
She could have laughed, but her lungs were still clenching, the fire of terror licking over her sensitized skin.
Somehow, she was alive—and she was ensnared beneath a very large, solid arm.
Brand.
His name was perched on her lips when she caught sight of his muscled chest, rising and falling with even breaths. Of the two, blaring puncture wounds over his heart, perfectly placed within a bruised circle.
The fang marks were stark in the dim lighting, faint blue iridescence glowing at the edges amongst golden-red hair.
Oh no. No, no, no.
Memory flooded her at the sight. Her startling rise back to life from a cold void of nothing. Her veins singing, flesh knitting. Her body—
Weeping fucking moons.
She’d tackled him and… and…
The dwindling terror of her nightmare was replaced by burning embarrassment, a flush suffusing her cheeks.
She’d blooded him—right before grinding her way to completion and falling into the best damned sleep of her life.
Lunara’s stomach lurched, and a lump of denial lodged itself in her throat. Tears sprang forth even as her heart stuttered, her mind and body locked in battle over whether she should be ill or elated.
What have you done?
Finding a true mate wasn’t uncommon, per se, but Lunara had never once seriously entertained the possibility for herself.
Some creatures spent their entire lives waiting and hoping, never finding theirs and dying alone.
Some gave up and bound themselves with a chosen love, but it didn’t always fare well between them.
The fortunate ones were blessed by the Sisters, finding the soul destined to collide with theirs in perfect, incandescent harmony.
Lunara scanned Brand’s sleeping face, admiring the strong lines of nose and jaw, the muted fire of his hair and short beard, the raw curve of his horns. So at ease, the worry gone from his brow. So stunningly beautiful.
All the signs had been there. The instant attraction, the calm when she was near him. The way it was so bleeding easy to forget she was supposed to be hiding for the rest of forever, because he made her feel like something else could be possible.
She should have known. Should have seen that he was hers.
No. No, no. He’s not yours, you’re not his. Not if you want to stay safe. Please get your cracked head out of your arse and run!
Right. Right.
Wiggling and pulling, she slid out ever so slowly, desperate not to disrupt Brand’s slumber. He would never let her go willingly—no one in their right mind would abandon their true mate.
Unfortunately for both of them, Lunara wasn’t in her right mind. Probably never had been.
She nearly collapsed on top of him when she finally hoisted herself to hands and knees and found her hair captured beneath his hip, forcing her to grip the ends and tug them to free herself.