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“Ooh. Are you really going to pop up and get energized just to critique my housekeeping?”

“I don’t give a fuck about your housekeeping. I’m confused that you think all of this translated to you caring for yourself. You were existing, Luna. That’s it. But as soon as you finally snapped out of it and came back to the world, you then decided to spend every damned minute doing your best to make sure you weren’t around long enough to enjoy it!”

“I spent every recent minute devoted to healing you, specifically so I could enjoy it!”

There was that strangling guilt again, trying to take back his speech.

“I didn’t ask for that,” he rasped.

She gaped at him. “You shouldn’t have to ask, Brand. It’s a given because we’re bonded. Because I wanted to. Because you deserved it. Because I love you. And don’t even try to pretend you wouldn’t do exactly the same for me—or was it some other Demon I heard screaming Starkeep down and causing an inter-realm incident, hmm?”

“That was different.”

Luna laughed, throwing her hands in the air. “High-handed! Overbearing!” She pointed a finger at him. “You can be worried for me. That’s fine. A lot has happened. But don’t do me the disservice of conveniently forgetting that I’ve spent every morning training for months. That I’m the Keeper of Illamiata and in full possession of said trinket. Or that I singlehandedly cleared an entire Dread Chasm of its foul contents. Among other things! I am more than capable of handling one Forgotten at a time, thank you.”

She turned and swept out of the bedchamber, stomping down the short hall as she muttered.

Brand was having none of it. Not anymore. She thought she was fucking invincible? He was happy to remind her she wasn’t.

“Disservice? Oh, no you don’t.” He ran after her, catching her as she entered the sitting room and spinning her around in his hold. “That’s bloody rich, Luna. Are you conveniently misplacing the rest of that fucking tragedy, or do you not recall?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she ground through her teeth.

His lips peeled back and he pinned her against the wall. “Don’t you? Because I do. I remember every wretched fucking second of it.” One of his hands slipped to her neck, his thumb pushing her jaw up and dragging a firm line down the column of her throat to make a point. “I remember that you were exhausted after clearing an entire chasm and then healing my wounds, and that it took seven people to save your fucking life when I tried to murder you for it. Every single one of my Imperial brothers, the two most skilled Demon warriors in Straelon, and fucking Fern.”

Her nostrils flared, eyes narrowing. “That was different.”

“I don’t need your cheek, Luna. I don’t need you to protect me. I know well what I did, and that you couldn’t stop it. I was one half-dead creature against you and you were helpless to stop it.”

“That wasn’t you, Brand. It was⁠—”

“Me!” More bloody damned tears, as if he hadn’t cried all of them already. “It was me! Brandir aht Bordoroth!” His teeth burned with every clenched inhale, trying to keep hold of himself. “I wrapped my hands around you. I tightened my grip on purpose. And I bloody fucking meant to make sure you didn’t see another day because I thought you were her. I tried to murder you, because I didn’t fucking recognize you!”

Apparently, he figured out where to start. Weeping shite.

“Whatever happened that day doesn’t compare to what I was doing in the chasms later.” Her shoulders heaved with every breath. “And no matter what you think you did, that wasn’t you.”

Brand scoffed and released her, scrubbing a hand down his face as he turned away. “Fuck, Luna. You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

“No, I don’t. And I won’t.” She shoved him clear into the opposite wall, her strength still a surprise to him. “Come on, then.”

“What are you doing?”

“Getting it over with,” she hissed, batting his arm away when he tried to reach for her. “If you’re such a stone cold bastard, hurt me. Do it. Go on.”

“Luna, stop.”

She shoved him again when he straightened. “No. You said it yourself—you’re a killer. So, prove it. I dare you.”

“Stop it.”

Her eyes spun with silver. “I will never bleeding stop, so you better get it over with.” She yanked his hand up and shoved it back onto her throat, pressing his fingers into her tender flesh. “Do it. It’s easy. You just tighten your hold and fucking squeeze. Or, wait. It wasn’t the front, was it? Your murderous grip was at my nape because you were about to snap my spine. That’s right. Silly me. We wouldn’t want to do this the wrong way.”

He tried to pull out of her hold when she adjusted his hand to the back of her neck, but she was too strong. “Lunara, I’m not⁠—”

“Do it, Brand,” she spat. “We’ve got it the right way around, now.”

“Please…”