Chapter 38
When she didn’t respond, Brand paced away, raking a hand through his hair.
For fuck’s sake, the two of them were a pair.
The last they’d spoken out loud with any real awareness was after his episode in the great hall—nearly a week ago. All of their communication since had been far more abstract.
Mind-to-mind. Heart-to-heart. Words replaced with a physical give and take that had nothing to do with sexual gratification and everything to do with two souls finally meeting.
Standing by, watching her suffer willingly, had been a grueling misery at times. More than once, he’d been tempted to get on his knees and beg her to stop—to accept Fern was a lost cause and save herself instead—but he’d made her a promise.
In the end, he’d never felt so connected with another creature in his life.
Her breaking body had voiced all she’d been unable to say with words, and his had heard. Had listened and adjusted to her needs as if it knew just what to do. They’d been so in tune, he would have sworn to the Sisters the bond had completed itself.
Now…
A whisper, low and grating, had made its way to his ears. He hadn’t been able to figure out what he was hearing at first—not until he’d watched her eyes flash wide at the exact moment he’d sensed its insidious echo again.
Luna had said weeks ago that she understood the cruel voice inside, but he’d never thought to experience hers. Brand could actually feel it lying to her, even if he couldn’t make out the words.
Part of him had the fleeting worry it might always be this way—back and forth between the weakest parts of themselves, never having the chance to be more because their fragile minds wouldn’t allow it.
The other part—the bigger, louder, meaner part—fucking refused to let that happen.
“Was it just me?” He turned away from the window and the setting sunstar to face her again. “Tell me I’m not the only one who felt it, that melding between us.”
Luna’s head snapped up, brows punching upwards. “I…” Her eyes darted towards Fern on her slab, wholly unaware of her surroundings. “Not here.” She practically ran out of the room, disappearing into her own through the opening Baldrir had made between them.
Brand grunted a curse and stalked after, finding her unraveling the plait he’d put in her hair while she paced in front of the fireplace.
He watched from the archway, transfixed as she bungled her way back and forth, not so much as a flinch when she rammed her hip into a chair arm, or bumped one of her knees on the low table.
Goosebumps broke out over his skin after one such instance, pricks crawling like a thousand tiny insects making their way up his spine and around his head.
And there it was again. The whisper.
“Whatever it just said is a lie.”
Luna gasped, stumbling to a stop and staring at the floorboards.
Brand crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Was it just me, Luna?” He knew it wasn’t. No way she hadn’t been right there with him. If he could get her to focus on that, admit it—
“No,” she answered, barely audible. “It wasn’t.” Her skin flushed as she searched the middle space, like she was trying to recall anything else he might have picked up. “You heard that?”
His greater half preened within, itching for a little freedom. “Not the particulars, don’t worry. More a feeling, and I can see you reacting.”
“How long?”
He pretended to consider it. “About the last half hour, or so, but I’d wager it’s been happening for a lot longer, hasn’t it?”
Her shoulders drooped. “It’s… one of the things I need to tell you.
” She brought her hands up to either side of her head.
“It’s never been this bad.” With a shaky sigh, she trudged over to the settee and plopped down, gaze fixed on the ceiling.
“It started when I was twenty—just after my parents died.”
Her voice was completely flat, but the look on her face was devastating.
His chest tightened, aching for her. He’d known from Thad, but she’d never mentioned them specifically. Just heartbreaking comments like not knowing how to be because she’d been alone for so long.
Whisper…
“Would you like to talk about it? Them?”
Her laugh was light, but bitter. “Like is such a strong word, don’t you think? There’s so much to say, so much to confess. At best, I’m… terrified of it.”
Whisper…
She swallowed and pressed the heels of her palms to closed eyes.
“I vowed before that you could confide in me, whenever you were ready. That hasn’t changed.” He finally crossed the room and knelt before her. “Can you look at me?”
She dropped her hands and let her head flop to the side. Weeping Sisters, she was so damned tired.
“Let’s slow down.” His thumb smoothed back and forth over her knee. “You’ve hardly eaten in days. You’re wearing the same dress as when you started. We need to get you feeling stronger. Then, we talk. Hmm?”
Tears gathered in her lashes as she stared at him. “I’d like that,” she finally said.
Whisper…
“I’m going to carry you to the washroom—both because I want to and because you deserve it. Okay?”
Whisper…
“It’s not a power play. It’s not control. You deserve it,” he said again, hoping to counteract whatever falsities she was feeding herself. “You are worthy of everything I have to give, and there’s no greater honor for me. Don’t let it tell you otherwise.”
Brand knew the mating bond could be intense from his parents, but he hadn’t expected this… liberation? For once in his life, there was no doubt. No second guessing himself. He knew just what to do. Exactly what to say. Which movements his body should make.
Without a word, Luna nodded and stretched her arms out, and nothing had ever been as sweet as the way she wrapped herself around his neck, the way her eyes drifted shut.
He stood and scooped her from the seat in one smooth motion, and loosed a contented sigh. Having her there tamed the worst of the restless gnawing that had been eating away at him since the first moment she’d laid healing hands on Fern.
“I’m here,” he murmured into her hair. “I’ve got you.”
Whisper…
“You never have to be alone again.”
Whisper…
He caught the tear sliding down her cheek with his lips. “I will never leave you.”
Whisper…
But weaker, that time.
Brand willed the stones to glow as he entered the washroom.
The guest chambers in the castle were different to his in the tower.
In his own room, the facilities could be whatever he wanted them to be because he could manipulate the stone how he pleased.
Here, every possible feature was accounted for, the choices near-endless.
“Would you prefer a bath or one of the falls?”
“Falls?”
He grinned down at her. “Oh, you’re in for a treat.”
Within an alcove, steps led down to a massive pool carved into the floor. The ledge around it gave access to the various chutes, spouts, and rain heads shooting out from the stone, and depressions on the outer wall had been enchanted to recognize touch.
Brand pressed a hand to them and turned on everything. “See anything you fancy?”
Her eyes went wide, darting over the feast of options.
The shower of tiny droplets. The wide, steaming fall in one corner.
The streams jetting horizontally across the other.
The sea serpent head jutting from the center of the ceiling, spewing water from its open mouth and filling the pool.
The patch of floor with a thousand little holes, tiny geysers bubbling up from each one and waiting for someone to lay upon it.
“All of them,” she breathed, sitting up a little straighter. “I want to try all of them.”
“Only the finest for a guest of the Demon King.” Brand chuckled as he set Luna on her feet in front of him and leaned down to her ear. “Which would the lady like to try first?”
She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, their faces a hair’s breadth apart. “What’s your favorite?”
“Would you rather stand, sit, or lay down?”
Her eyes dropped to his lips for an agonizing second before meeting his again. “Lay down, I think.”
Brand’s heart flipped, and he froze. He had… not expected that.
He’d been doing a decent job of not allowing his mind to go there at all since they’d gotten back.
Of course he wanted her—desperately—but they’d just spent six days locked in a blurry cycle of heal, feed, doze, repeat.
She was clearly exhausted, and not a little frightened.
He would be a cad of the worst sort to even think about the things he wanted to do when she was vulnerable.
Whisper… Whisper, whisper, whisper!
Her gaze shuttered and she shrank away slightly. “I’m sorry, I thought— Forgive me. That was probably too forward—”
Brand grabbed her nape and pressed his lips to hers to stop whatever daft shite was about to come out of her mouth.
“Don’t ever apologize to me for that,” he hissed against her.
“Don’t doubt yourself.” He rounded her, keeping hold of her jaw.
“Anything you want is yours—my body included. I thought you’d want your space, and I only want you to be comfortable, Luna. At peace.”
Her touch fluttered up his sternum, searing through the fabric of his shirt. “I’m… weary of space. I’ve had so damned much of it.”
Whisper…
With a sigh, she let her arm drop. “Perhaps we should wait. You might change your mind once you’ve heard all I have to say. I wouldn’t blame you.”
He laced his fingers over the back of her hand and brought it back to his chest. “Is that what you think is going to happen? Still?”
“Honestly?”
“Always.”
“I don’t know what to think about anything, anymore. I’m afraid what I want is outside the realm of possibility.”
His hold tightened. “What is it you want, exactly?”
Luna swallowed and blew out a slow breath. “I want to be free. I want to do as I like, where and when I like, without the constant fear that my life isn’t really my own. That it could change at any moment, and I’d be lost. And I want… I want to live like that with you at my side. Irrevocably.”