Chapter 45 #2
Brand’s markings blazed over his skin, the red doubling back over his vision, and he had to fight against every particle of his warping flesh to stay sane.
“By who?”
It was possible Luna hadn’t chosen to leave. That her worst nightmares had come to fruition, and the Council—
“Lunara, herself.” Araxis dared a step closer, his tone more suited for a wounded animal. “While she stood over your sprawled body after ripping your consciousness away.”
Brand sneered, flashing his fangs. “Do not twist her actions to manipulate me, snake. I know her to the marrow.”
“Please, Brand. Let her go.”
Never.
This wasn’t the first, or even the hundredth, time Brand had nearly leveled Argoph in a fit of rage. For once, he was glad.
Used to it, his family’s mistake was their nonchalance in the aftermath.
He pretended to consider his brother’s asinine suggestion, gentling his features. One breath, two… Ice melting, vines slipping a little more… Their attention drifting further…
Brand called a solid wall of stone as he lunged through their half-arsed bindings, his fist plowing into Araxis’s face before the bastard could mist his way out of the blow. Another swing, and he snatched Araxis by the neck, bringing them eye-to-eye.
He paid no mind to the others shouting on the other side of the enclosure. “Where is she?”
“I told her I wouldn’t stop you looking. That doesn’t mean I intend to help you to your own ruin. Let her go.”
“I would rather die.”
“Funny.” Araxis raised a dark brow. “Isn’t that what she was trying to do to get away from you?”
“You think this is fucking funny?” Brand shook him, ignoring the hot lance of agony buried in his chest. “How dare you say such a thing to me.”
“I’m sorry, that was—”
“Fuck your half-arsed apology. Where?”
A muscle ticked in Araxis’s swollen jaw. “At her request, I delivered her to the Demon King.”
Wrong answer.
Brand slammed him into the ground, stone chips flying as he hissed, “You honestly expect me to believe she’d beg your help, just to escape to my own fucking home?”
“Not only did she demand my help,” Araxis choked through gritted teeth, vessels rupturing in the whites of his eyes, “but I dropped her at Lyriat’s feet and left before I could hear where she was going next, so it couldn’t be beaten out of me.
For your sake, I hope she’s long gone and you never find her. ”
Truth rang in the words, and a thread of panic wove its way into his fury.
Brand squeezed a little tighter. “The only reason I’m not beating you to an unrecognizable pulp is because it would take too long,” he seethed. “For your sake, I hope she’s still in Straelon. You’d better stay very fucking far away from me if she isn’t.”
“Lunara!”
Everyone in the great hall screeched to a halt as Brand roared his way through the portal into Straelon, forks and glasses poised halfway to silent mouths.
“Where is she?!”
A tiny squeak and skitter caught his attention, Nyri ducking under a table on the far side.
“Nyriadne!”
Those nearest her scattered, not stupid enough to stand in his way. They knew he wouldn’t hurt her, even though he probably looked like he was ready to rip every last one of them into pieces.
She poked her head back over the tabletop as he thundered over. “Shite.”
Hope sprang for the first time since waking. If she was hiding, she knew something. And it meant Araxis had told at least part of the truth.
“Brand, is this really necessary?”
“Aye, Vann is on to something. The witchling just needs a few days. She’ll come around.”
“Assuming she’s even still here—no, she won’t. He should leave it alone.”
“I probably wouldn’t speak if I were you, Araxis.”
“Ach, Vann again with the wisdom.”
Brand could only assume Mag and Vann had insisted on following to make sure Araxis survived the day. Why Araxis had insisted on coming was beyond him. His youngest brother was already fucking lucky he was still standing.
“Out, Nyri. Now.”
“I’m so sorry, I can’t hear— Eeee!”
Brand tossed the table away, dishes clattering. “You’re going to tell me where she is.”
“Where who is?”
“Don’t get fucking cute with me, Nyri. Where is Luna?”
“Luna… Luna…” She tapped her chin and pretended to think. “Nope, don’t know a Luna.”
Brand balled his fists and roared to the ceiling, seething when he bent close to her again. “I swear to the Sisters—”
“She’s been instructed to say nothing.”
Brand’s head snapped to Lyriat, traipsing into the hall like it was any other fucking day. “Where is Luna?”
The king ignored him, his pointed attention on Nyri. “Go find Hedda.”
Nyri scrambled from the floor and was off without so much as a look back.
“Lyriat, please. Tell me where she—”
He raised a stilling hand. “She’s here. Come with me.”
The worst of his rage instantly abated, the panic of urgency draining away.
Lyriat led Brand and his brothers through the winding corridors towards Luna’s chamber.
“She called in our deal, demanding her payment. I stalled her—for you—by fiddling with the terms. ‘Displeased’ doesn’t even begin to skim the surface of her ire.
” He nodded as they passed a wall of guards blocking entrance to that wing of the castle.
“She immediately barred herself in there. This started happening shortly after, and none of us have been able to get in since.”
“Weeping fuck.”
Magic was bleeding into the hallway from beneath both her door and Fern’s—prismatic wisps dancing with tendrils of black in the afternoon sunlight, flowing up the stone walls, little bits floating away to dissipate.
Brand ignored his brothers’ murmurs and inched forward. The closer he got, the more volatile the wisps and tendrils. The darkness snapped out at him, angry, while the pieces of Luna’s magic lashed out to block their attacks. So similar to the chasm.
He called to his power, ready to bring the castle down to get to her, but Lyriat placed a stilling hand on his arm.
“We’ve tried, but the stone isn’t listening,” he said. “Can you feel her through the bond at least?”
Shite. That bloody damned wall.
Never again.
His lids slid closed as he reached inside and tore it all down, opening himself up to her and—
Agony. Biting, writhing agony. Hers.
“Lunara!”
Brand didn’t think. He sprinted to the door, a male possessed—bloodying his knuckles. Ramming his horns against it. Bruising his shoulders, his knees, his feet.
Something was very, very wrong.
“Lunara! Let me in!” His voice echoed around him, every word emphasized by a slam against the panel.
He summoned his greatsword from the ether. Brand had meant what he’d said last night—he would go to fucking war with her for the rest of their lives, relishing every second, if that’s what it took to make her see reason.
He’d sure as fuck go to war for her.
“Help me!” He bellowed, calling to the others.
As he hacked and hacked, Brand was transported once more to the chasm depths, when she’d left him on the wrong side of the shield and he’d been forced to watch her mutilation. To feel her life draining away until she was—
Muffled shouts reach him, and he spared a glance over his shoulder between punishing swings. Lyriat and his brothers were waving their arms, their words lost on him.
That’s when he noticed the wisps of her magic. Clinging. Shielding. They caressed over his skin, forming a protective enclosure around him and pushing the shadows out into the surrounding area.
“Please.” Brand pressed his forehead to the door, begging it to hear him. “Let me in so I can help her. Please.”
It almost seemed to whisper in answer. A strange song that hummed in his his blood as it drew closer, tightening, tightening…
Release, just as the door clicked open. He could wonder about it later.
Brand barreled into the hazy room. The magic was thicker, but he could see her chamber was packed to the brim with crude wooden crates and overflowing sacks. Blankets and pillows in more colors than he’d ever seen had been tossed on every surface.
But no Luna.
He leapt over the piles nearest the door and through the opening into Fern’s side—and stopped dead.
“Sisters, help me.”
The two of them hovered in the air, entwined in light and shadow. Luna’s eyes shone, their silver beams locked on the ceiling as she held a limp Fern in her arms, the Fae’s body bowed backwards.
Power choked him. Insidious and cleansing at once, it was like sweet poison on his tongue. So much worse than the study. So much more consuming than Glynmor or the chasm.
When he sent a command to the stone in the walls and beneath the floorboards—hoping to use it to separate them—it barely rippled, as if it couldn’t compete with the pressure she was creating. Just as Lyriat had said.
This was different to when Luna had healed Fern’s physical wounds. Deeper, a vortex, like the watchtower in Glynmor. Which meant he couldn’t fucking touch her.
He needed help.
Brand raced back the way he’d come, pushing himself free of the barrier. Cool air rushed in, a relief against the dampness of his skin. When he saw Hedda and Faldir there as well, his knees nearly buckled in relief. They would understand.
“The same as Glynmor, but so much worse.” His chest was heaving. “I need someone else to separate them.”
It rankled, but Luna was more important than his stupid fucking pride.
Hedda’s shoulders went back instantly. “I’ll do it. I already know what to expect.”
“I’ll be going with her,” Faldir said.
The twins stepped forward and into their rage, rising to meet his own towering height. Lyriat did the same alongside them.
“Obviously, we’re all fucking going now the door is open,” Mag said.
Brand twisted to look behind, the prismatic wisps getting larger, sweeping out farther.
“Fine. Shield us from the shadows, Araxis, but no other magic.” He gave a pointed look to him and Vann. “Whatever is happening in there, adding more might bring the whole place down.”
Back through Luna’s room and into Fern’s, everyone following close behind. He ignored the gasps and murmured prayers, and turned to Hedda.
“You’re sure?”
His Second was limned in Araxis’s power, her face serious when she nodded. “She’s my friend. Just… if anything happens, put me in a stunning gown for my pyre. I want to look incredible when I step into the Veil.” She offered him a cheeky wink and lunged.
Her screams tore through the room when she latched on to Luna. Faldir rushed forward to brace her, his bellows joining the cacophony.
Magnus and Vann went to Fern’s side, unaffected as they pried the Fae away from Luna’s hold.
Pulling, pulling…
Both he and Lyriat were poised for the inevitable snap, waiting to catch everyone as they fell. He chose to ignore Araxis, hovering on the perimeter with his short blades in hand.
Almost…
They broke apart with a shuddering boom, bodies flying in opposite directions.
Brand dug his feet into the floor, skidding as he wrapped his arms around the twins. He watched with a sort of fascinated horror as all of Luna’s power retreated into her, while the shadows either evaporated or went back into Fern.
Conscious of Luna’s undoubtedly horrific pain, he extracted her from Hedda’s hold as gently as he could, cradling her against himself. It was the only thing stopping him from either kissing her, or shaking her awake so they could have it out.
He settled for speaking his earlier thoughts aloud. “Stubborn, reckless fool,” he hissed into her hair. “What were you thinking?”
Old parchments and worn books littered her bed, and he swept them away to lay her down. Same as too many times before, he shoved her fangs into the meat of his palm and coaxed her to drink, to come back, his massive fingers grotesque against her delicate throat.
Better he stay in his rage, though, lest he fall to his damned knees and weep.
She drew in a sharp breath and latched onto his arm with both hands, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t even upset when she went slack almost immediately, a drop of his blood trickling its way down her cheek as she fell into a deep sleep.
She was alive. She was well. She was with him. Nothing else mattered.
“Brand.” Lyriat stood with arms crossed at the foot of the bed, back to his lesser self. “May I offer some advice?”
He already had an inkling of what his friend was about to say, already wanted to argue it, but he nodded once.
“Leave her be for a few days.”
Furious tingles crawled over Brand’s limbs, his suspicion correct. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Because she needs to realize for herself that running isn’t the answer, and she won’t be able to see through her fear if you’re crowding her.”
“Crowding her? She’s my mate. We are one being now.”
“Yes, but that half”—he jutted his chin at her—“is more terrified than I’ve ever seen another living creature. If you’d been there this morning…” His cheeks puffed out as he shook his head.
“I watched her try to leap from my tower in Argoph to save me,” Brand rasped. “I have a fairly good idea.”
Lyriat recoiled. “Weeping fuck.”
Brand caught himself before he could dig his hand into the permanent groove in one of his primary horns. He’d never once sought the soothing motion while raging. He wasn’t fucking starting now.
“I knew it was bad, but I did what I could, Brand. I kept her here, knowing you’d be back as soon as you were able. The rest she has to do for herself.”
“She’s already done too much by herself.” It was getting harder to keep his form, sorrow setting in and trying to wrench it away from him. “For so long, she was alone. Why would you ask this of me?”
“I recognize someone carrying old wounds—wounds that have just been ripped wide open again.” His voice was hushed, the tone of a male who knew what it was to lose everything at a young age.
“Give her some time to see she isn’t alone.
Let Hedda and Nyri care for her while she tends to the Fae.
Let her see she has friends outside of you, people who care what happens to her.
Maybe if she realizes how many would be affected by her leaving, she’ll pause to think.
You can use that space as well. You don’t have to be right next to her to love her. ”
Those last words hit hard. Hadn’t he been doing that before Glynmor? Days into meeting her and he’d been mostly head-over-heels already.
“You truly think it will make a difference?”
“I do. Let her spend some time missing you, and she’ll see it’s no way to live.”
Brand drew two fingers across her brow. “She’s Nachthelliae’s fucking Keeper, Lyriat. That’s no way to live either.”
“I know,” he whispered. “You’ll just have to cross that bridge when you get to it.”