Chapter 26 #2
Brand grumbled and rolled to his back, and she froze. The bruising on his chest was worse than she’d first thought, and guilt roiled through her. She resisted the urge to trail her fingers over the mottle, purple skin—there was nothing she could do for such a mark anyway.
They were scars he’d be stuck with. Permanently. A beacon to all others that he’d been claimed by a Nachthellian.
Sisters, what had she done?
Station didn’t matter when true mates were found, status nothing in the face of it. A cook could bind with the Realm Ruler they served, and all would rejoice. But she’d be visible at his side. Paraded everywhere. Someone would recognize her, and… and use him to get to her.
Brand was an Imperial, the most powerful beings in all the realms, but they’d find a way.
Her breaths came faster, visions drowning her. Of clawed hands poised over him, backlit by Illamiata, his life under threat because she’d been fool enough to stay. Of the Council swarming her with their power, laughing as they stole her mind and her freedom.
Go. Go!
Lunara scrambled from the platform and raced for the far end of the cavern. Hands skimming the walls, clawing at the rock. There was no door. No exit.
It hit her that she didn’t even know where they were. That part of her memory was lost to her.
She threw a hand out to catch herself on the stone before sliding to the ground. Air heaved in and out of her lungs. A cold sweat broke over her brow.
This couldn’t be it. Trapped, her life over. He’d wake up, and she’d never be able to look into his eyes and then leave him, and they would all die.
“Or you stay and live happily ever after. It’s only somewhat up in the air right now.”
At the Voice’s interruption, Lunara jolted and smacked her head against the wall, its stars-damned giggles filling her mind.
No, no, no. You are not hearing the Voice right now. You are not.
“If you keep telling yourself that, I’ll never be able to help you. You’re supposed to have listened by now,” it chided, rattling within her.
What was that supposed to mean?
“I say what I mean and it means what I said. Well, this time.”
As cursed, breathy titters bounced around her head, Lunara fought to get her breathing under control. Nonsense for years, and it was suddenly trying to help?
It sounded offended when it said, “I wouldn’t say ‘suddenly.’ I’ve been here all along you know, through everything. We are friends, after all.”
Friends? Lie. It’s lying to you. You have no friends. Certainly not this one.
“Are we not friends yet? I would have sworn…”
Its seemingly genuine confusion made Lunara pause, but then it spoke again and ripped away any potential curiosity.
“Wait, did she just wake up with Brandir or with Magnus? Maybe we aren’t friends yet…” it whispered.
With… Magnus…
Magnus?!
“Never mind. You weren’t supposed to hear that. Shhh.”
She wanted to scream when it laughed again, but her panting gasps and squeezing chest wouldn’t let her.
“You need to take a deep breath—hyperventilating is not going to help, but I will. I will help you, Lunara the Moonweaver.”
Lunara was perilously close to passing out when a thousand voices filled her head with pounding intensity.
“Merge with stone before the fourth tower crumbles, binding midnight radiance to the crowned dawn. Find power in patience, have patience with power. Hold both within and wield vengeance that blinds. With fangs and mist, balance and majesty, a moth spreads its wings with bonded ferocity. Dwindled sun makes evening darker, but twilight sings love’s memories—thus mending stone with mated mortar and banishing the nightmare. ”
The words were achingly, horribly familiar, but Lunara couldn’t place them in her state.
“I cannot say, so do not ask. You’ll know the truth eventually.” The Voice had reverted back to its usual singsong sound, the mystical quality from a moment ago gone, as if it had never happened.
Know the truth?
No, this is not happening. This is not real.
Oh, it was real enough. And cryptic as fucking ever. Just like whoever had sent that message to Brand.
“I’m really, really not. But never mind that.
There’s something else you’ll need to recall, my sweet, little future friend.
When all is dark and the ground swims beneath you…
When the waves crash and the world thunders…
When red mist lands and the wrong hands free you…
When everything is lost and there’s only one way left to find it…
You must remember—only poor choices shaped the others, and you are not the same.
You will need your fear to find your fate. Trust me, I would know.”
It said the last with such raw melancholy that Lunara almost wanted to reach out and find a way to embrace it.
But then it giggled again—a grating, flippant sound that made Lunara want to rip her own ears off—and her compassion evaporated.
“And now, I offer you one truth. A way to test what I have said and take it to heart,” it said lightly, wholly unaware that Lunara was plotting ways to murder it.
“The first words the Demon will utter upon waking are ‘Lunara? What are you doing over here? Are you alright? Speak to me, my little moon.’”
Lunara’s heart lurched, irritation with the voice and the sweetness of those words colliding within her chest. Somehow, against her better judgement, she found herself wanting it.
“There’s no way that you could know it, only I can see.” The voice sounded smug, right before it lowered with urgency. “I see so you can see—see what’s right in front of you.”
The gravity behind those words, the utter urgency in its timbre…
“What is happening?” Lunara rasped. “What am I meant to see?”
Why her? Why now? She didn’t understand anything. Was overwhelmed to the point of tears. What did the truth matter when nothing made any sense?
“I cannot say much more without dooming us all. Just… Do not fear his light, Lunara,” the voice whispered, almost begging. “The blessed night within you cannot exist without it.”
Lunara swayed as cracking pressure swelled within her skull, sure it was going to break apart when the agony suddenly released, melting away to nothing and leaving only breathtaking lightness in its wake.
Her head landed in her hands, those final words hitting harder than any of the other indecipherable rubbish.
‘Do not fear his light, Lunara.’
She knew exactly what the Voice meant by that. Especially sitting here and leaning against a wall she would have run through if it had been the doorway she’d needed it to be.
But Lunara didn’t fear him at all—she feared accepting him, for both of their sake.
She feared the growing feelings and the glorious pounding of her heart when he was near because she was terrified the beauty of those moments would be reduced to nothing more than heartbroken dust, crushed beneath the weight of her uncertain future.
No, Lunara did not fear Brand. It was the Elders she was afraid of. It was… herself.
She didn’t fear his light, she feared inadvertently being the one to extinguish it. Because having it, having him, then being responsible for their destruction…
That would be far worse than never having him at all.