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“Much of Faldir’s training is terrifying.”
Fern huffed. “You got that right. Come on, let’s get you up.” She hooked Lunara under the arms and hauled, tearing a pained whimper from her lips. “Shit. How bad?”
“The worst it’s been in an age,” Lunara gasped out as Fern eased her back to kneeling. “Like I healed the whole of the Montrealm in one go.”
Fern nodded, her chin trembling. “And with that thing inside him, Brand will be worse.”
They stared at each other, both of them understanding what it meant—no matter which way it went with Brand, Lunara might not survive.
“Even if I bleed myself dry, I’m not enough,” Fern murmured. “I know why you haven’t taken from any others, and I understand, but this is bigger than your bruised heart, Lunara.” She wound tighter somehow, her jaw tense. “I’m going to get Magnus. At least.”
Fern was right. It was going to take everything she had to burn through Night, and then some.
As Fern reached the door, Lunara said, “Whatever happens, do not say a word of it around Brand. We have no way of knowing whether it’s listening inside him. Surprise is my best chance.”
“Not a word,” she agreed, and slipped out.
A few minutes later, Magnus burst in with dagger in hand. “Weeping shite, witchling. I knew it was bad when Fern asked nicely, but this…” He crouched in front of her, a sliver of moonlight hitting his mutilated face.
Lunara gasped. “What happened?”
“Fern was displeased to find you missing.”
Sounds about right.
If Lunara was going to feed anyway, there was no point holding back. She sent what little was left of her power into him, cursing when his injuries registered in her own bones and added to the pain.
Fern crossed her arms and looked away. “He deserved it.”
“Aye.” His gaze dropped. “I’m thinking that might be true.”
He didn’t give Fern a chance to respond, standing to grab a cup from a side table. A slash on his arm, blood flowing. “Accept this gift. Freely given.”
Lunara didn’t make the mistake of thinking about it too much. She threw his blood back in one gulp, and power like open valleys and the wind through her hair rushed in. Wild. Free. Her particles mended themselves almost as quickly as when she fed from Brand. The difference was her sheer exhaustion after.
As the pleasant buzz consumed her, Lunara melted, listing to the side.
“There we go.” Magnus caught her, lifting her into his arms. “A wee nap and you’ll be right as rain, aye?” Laying her down on the bed, he and Fern both tucked her in, then moved away. “Tell me everything,” he rasped.
Lunara listened as Fern recounted what she knew, too tired to feel ashamed of her secrets. Their heated back and forth was comforting, and she teetered on the edge between awake and asleep as it lulled her.
A hand landed on her cheek sometime later, Magnus’s low voice saying, “We’ll sort the rest, don’t you worry, but you’ll be feeding properly when you wake up. None of this half-arsed shite if you’re going to save him.”
He shifted to leave but Lunara’s hand shot out, her nails biting into his arm. “He can’t know, do you understand me?”
“Aye. Someday, though, you’re finally going to have to sit down and answer me one of the times I ask what the fuck you were thinking.”
“Deal.”
Magnus went to the curtains, throwing them wide so the moonlight fully shined in. “Soak it up, witchling, and ruin that bastard.”
The ruse was at its end.
Brand the Greater had been found.
At last, for better or worse, he finally stood toe-to-toe with the beast, a paper-thin line of golden light the only thing keeping them from one another.
The living shadows swirled, rising, until they concentrated and solidified into the semblance of a bipedal creature, fully as large as Brand was himself. The darkness trailed like smoke as a clawed hand detached from the mass and scraped down the barrier, testing it with a hiss.
