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“Accept this gift, freely given.”
The tang of iron hit the air, saliva flooding her mouth as the blood did.
Arsehole that he was, he only allowed her a single swallow before taking it away. Just enough to clear her sight, and free her tongue. Restoring enough sensation to her limbs that she felt the pain.
He should have left her paralyzed and terrified. It would’ve been more merciful.
Lunara slid her eyes to Araxis beside her, hoping the scathing glare burned right fucking through him. He was disheveled, his black hair mussed in every direction. The dark circles under his eyes might’ve been from the low lighting, but she didn’t care whether or not he was tired.
She put the clues and pieces together. There was only one reason she was staring at the twinkling, evening womb of Nachthelliae beyond the windows instead of laying beside her mate in Straelon, and he was it.
Araxis betrayed them. Betrayed her.
Again.
She should’ve trusted herself. Lunara was all too aware that Araxis only and always prioritized his precious Elder Council above all else. Weeping moons, it boiled in her veins.
“I’m going to assume you manipulated a wretched situation to finally get hold of me, and that I’m here against the will of just about everyone we know.”
“Lunara—”
“Tell me, did you linger long enough to find out whether your own brother was still alive,” she hissed, “or is your leash too fucking tight?”
Sweet, merciful Sisters, let Brand be whole and hale and living.
Araxis’s teeth ground together. “He sleeps, free and clear of the darkness, and Cordelia is with them.”
Lunara had one, blessed breath to revel in the relief before her mind caught up.
“Are you insane?” She almost wanted to laugh, but it wasn’t remotely funny. “You left Brand’s life in Cordelia’s hands? That cranky old bat couldn’t heal a shallow paper cut if given all the hours in a day! I’m going to—”
“What? Stand up?” Araxis snapped, dropping her back to the pillow. “Lay waste to me and all of Bordoroth from your sickbed, and hope you have enough energy left to crawl back to your beloved mate and his realm? Best of luck to you, Lunara.”
He stomped across the room and set the cup on a low table in front of the settee—the least graceful she’d ever seen him.
Who gives a starry shite?
She threw a pointed look at the goblet, no doubt still full and mocking her across the distance. “I wouldn’t have to crawl from a sickbed, Araxis, if you weren’t withholding the very thing that would revive me.”
Araxis shook his head, scoffing. “Do you honestly think I wanted this?”
“Since you refuse to speak plainly to anyone, ever, there is no possible way that a single creature in this world knows what you want.” Lunara tried to sit up and swing her legs down, but all she managed was slipping halfway from the bed as she cried out. “Piss. Shite. Arse.”
“Stupid.” Araxis was through the ether in an instant, shoving her back to the mattress with no care for the agony it caused. “Even if I healed you completely, you can’t leave this place.”
“The Sisters themselves deemed me worthy enough to be the conduit for their celestial fury, so I could battle and ruin a primordial beast of darkness,” she wheezed. “I can do anything I fucking want.”
A somewhat haughty summation, and more confident than she actually felt.
He did not seem impressed by it whatsoever. “Perhaps if you’d stooped to spend two fucking minutes listening to me before all of this, I might have been able to explain some things. Unfortunately for you, you thwarted me at every turn, and these are the consequences. I am not responsible for your imprudence.”
“Stooped to listen? Araxis, at no point did you attempt approaching me like a person so that I might listen to you about anything. You chose official summons from the Council and literal fucking kidnapping, and I refused to bend to your absurdity. Never mind you taking Brand’s blood. Then again, of course you would use dark magic as soon as you didn’t get your way.” A rattling huff left her, the audible fluid in her lungs apparently of little concern to the arsehole. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? The formidable, chilling, Blessed Nightmare of the Endless Dark, bested by wayward, ninny-headed Lunara the Moonweaver. Oh, you can’t stand it.”
“The only thing I cannot stand is that you put me in this position in the first place because you refused to do your Sisters given duty and show up!” The room shook, its bare, moonstone walls vibrating with a combination of raw power and his echoing baritone.
Apparently, the Sorcerit Son knows how to raise his voice.
“As I’m sure everyone is thinking,” he continued, “I should have been there adding my support and being a loving brother—and they’d be right. I would’ve liked to help. Contrary to popular belief, I do actually fucking care. Instead, I was forced to act outside my own wishes or tendencies in order to satisfy the needs of literally millions of Sorcerit who are counting on the two of us to not be fucking selfish. On top of that, there’s much you don’t understand about how the Evesong works. If you think this is happening because I’m petty enough to be angry over being avoided a few times, you’re an even bigger fool than I thought.”
