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“He’s protective of you,” Lyriat said, soft and sweet. “It’s lovely, even if he is an arse about it.”
“Aye. Well, all I know is that I’m damned glad this isn’t a real meeting, and that I wouldn’t mind taking the world’s longest nap.” Thad’s gaze went distant. Exhausted. “Feel like I haven’t slept in ages.”
“Come with me,” Luna said, voice gentle. “Let’s see to those injuries. I think I’ve still got one of your robes stored away as well.”
Brand followed after her as she led Thad into the chamber, but Araxis stopped him. “This is what I’m talking about. We’re sitting here having a grand old time, but look at him.” He raked a hand through his shock of black hair. “I never should’ve joined in. That was a ridiculous—”
“Yes, you should’ve.” Brand gripped him by the nape and pulled him in. “Believe me, Araxis, misery and mirth can exist side-by-side with no trouble at all. The latter helps us survive the former.”
It didn’t need to be said how Brand knew that so well—not after this last week.
“That isn’t a sentiment that makes any sense to me,” Araxis admitted, mouth turning down at the corners as he shook his head. “No. None at all. Lunara knows where to find me if I’m needed before the morning. Otherwise, I will see you in Thodelebor at sunrise.”
“Wait, I need—”
Fuck. Araxis misted away.
He needed to know what his brother wanted to talk with him about. But apparently, now they’d be discussing whatever it was on a battlefield.
Brand’s turmoil over Araxis twined with Luna’s pain in the bond, Thad’s healing somehow running along his own nerve endings. Stars above, it was a wonder she wasn’t screaming. He needed to—
“He’ll come around eventually.” Vann presented a black bottle of Fae wine, the drunken slur from before entirely gone.
Brand took it, itching to go help his mate. “You were pretending.”
“Of course I was. Do you know how much of this I would have to drink for it to do any blimmin’ good? Believe me”—Vann smacked his thigh, giving the leg that continuously bothered him a good joggle—“I’ve tried to find out.”
“Weeping shite,” Brand huffed. “We’re all a bloody mess, one way or another.”
“I know. Isn’t it fun?”
“What’s fun?” Thad appeared in the balcony doorway.
Fern whistled at him, the shrill sound almost as bad as Stirling’s yowls.
“Sisters save me, lad,” Mag said while the others raised their own teasing noise. “You look like a new person.”
An understatement, if ever there was one. Luna not only cleaned him, but rebuilt his gaunt flesh, his bulk, Thad’s skin practically glowing. In fact, Brand almost swore he saw the slightest opalescence there, his cousin’s Nachthellian side shining through as never before.
“Aye. Lunara’s fairly decent at that sort of thing,” Thad joked, extracting the wine from Brand and jerking his chin towards the room. “She’s needing you. I’m sorry for it, but she insisted. You know how she is.”
He did. Hence the reason he was already on his feet and ready to topple the castle if one more person stopped him from getting to her.
Brand found her in the washroom, clinging to the basin. “Shite, Luna.” He snatched up a cloth and went to his knees. She’d clearly been sick, skin pale and hair stuck to her face. “He was that bad?”
It didn’t make sense. Sure, Thad was a bit banged up and worse for wear, but this level of cost for her seemed too extreme.
“He was sick, or…” she whispered, turning her head so he could clean her face. “I don’t know, but it was wrong. I took care of it, I think, but didn’t let on.”
Brand bit back the explain from the tip of his tongue and took a deep breath, instead asking, “Sick how?”
Luna swallowed. Her eyes were glassy, but the look she gave him was no less stark for it. “A lot like Meliora, but not quite the same. Why can’t any of it just be the same so I know what to do?”
The world narrowed and snapped back into place, Brand blinking against the ringing in his ears. Half of it was Luna’s own reaction, both of them reeling from the very idea.
No wonder she lost her supper.
“Let’s worry about that after you’ve fed, yes?”
