Page 135

She looked away from him as the cage finally melted, clearing her throat. “Did it help to see it?”

It. The Horned City, obviously.

Others asked him vague, pointless things. Was he well? Did he need anything? Was he certain? Did he feel alright? Hedging and tiptoeing and coddling while trying to pull the most painfully obvious answers out of him.

Her questions were different. More focused. More personal, in a way. No one seemed to understand what he needed the way she did.

Lunara knew exactly how fucking wretched last night was, how wrecked he was. Verbal acknowledgement of his agony wasn’t what she was after. Wasn’t the point. She wanted to know whether those brutal hours were worth it.

Did it help?

“Yes, actually.”

Her head snapped up, the slightest of smiles sitting at the corners of her sea glass eyes. “Really?”

The ache behind his ribs intensified seeing that glimmer of hope. Brand took a step closer, his hand flexing and twitching as he did. The thing was practically begging to reach out but he stopped himself.

Not yet. Not with Magnus and Fern mere feet away, conspicuously silent.

“Thank you for being there,” he murmured, trying to ignore the burn of their stares. “I feel…more grounded in reality today, for all I hate the truth of it.”

The vulnerability sat like a crawling film on his skin, and he clenched his teeth against the prickling heat rising in his chest and cheeks.

She nodded, her gaze shuttering ever so little and only making it worse. “I understand.”

Those same words flitted up from the recesses of his consciousness. “I understand, by the way,” said by her once upon a time in almost that exact, hushed tone.

Brand jolted, a response once again tumbling from his mouth before he thought it through. “I wonder if perhaps—no. Would you like to…?”

A frustrated growl escaped as past and present fused, Brand’s mind muddling until he didn’t know where he was anymore. The words weren’t right. That wasn’t what he meant to say. Wasn’t the way it hap⁠—

“Yes. Whatever it is, yes.”

He blinked, no idea what Lunara was so emphatically agreeing to. When he glanced over to Magnus, him and Fern both looking on expectantly, Brand wished for the floor to swallow him whole.

Not again. Please, not again.

“Lovely,” he said, attempting to sound nonchalant and praying it was the right thing to say.

It wasn’t.

“Shitting seasons, I can’t take it,” Fern muttered.

“Don’t,” Magnus hissed. “Let them⁠—”

“What? Let them torture us and each other? It’s not even fun anymore.”

Lunara’s eyes darted back and forth while she tangled a curl between her fingers. Nervous. Agitated. Because of him. Because he forgot something, and they all knew it.

He had a choice. Cover it, run, or be honest.

Fake it. Hide it. Act normal.

No. No. He didn’t want to pretend.

That first glimpse of the Horned City in all its shattered glory flashed within, along with the earlier realization that he’d already failed too many times as a Son and a person. Shame joined hands with stunning clarity, and the two settled on his shoulders together. Sickening, embarrassing, but necessary.

Resigned and determined at once, Brand asked, “What was it? What did I forget?”