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He was going home and she was staying here. So what?

Magnus shuffled around and gathered what little was left of his things, grumbling to himself as he started shoving all of it into that embroidered bag he loved so well. The only reason she hadn’t stolen the damned thing yet was that it was nigh as big as she was and she had nothing to put in it anyway.

Well that, and he genuinely seemed to love it. She’d seen his focused care when darning its splitting seams and worn patches. His satisfied smile when it was restored to some of its former glory.

Not that he knew that.

Magnus paused halfway through stuffing his spare robe in and eyed the washroom.

—I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Wouldn’t be the first time, and it won’t be the last. If you’d get that through your thick skull, you might be able to calm down… It’s a bath, Maggie. You aren’t stealing his gold. Besides, the Chieftains will appreciate you showing up clean… Aye, what of it? Should I say… Ach, fine. Your loss⁠—

He whipped the clean garment back out and laid it neatly on the bed, head cocking to one side. For a harrowing few seconds, she thought he might be on to her, sniffing her out or something—but then he undid his belt.

Sweet fucking shit.

For Magnus to be so perfectly formed but so blimmin’ confusing all the time was the cruelest trick the Sisters had ever played.

Damn them. And damn him, too.

Fern thought for sure they’d come to some kind of accord at the Evesong’s Occurrence. That they were finally going to lean in to the buzzing current in the air between them no matter what the fuck they were doing. The arsehole literally fucking inhaled her from cunt to forehead in front of a thousand creatures, glued them together with a firm hand and groan, and nearly fucking kissed her.

Until he didn’t, and left her standing there like a complete slug.

And sure, she also beat the absolute shit out of him in front of those same creatures, but wasn’t that the point? She thought they were having fun with each⁠—

“Hello, Fernamie.”

Lunara was still laughing when they emerged into a tempest, her hair whipping into a frenzy. She could’ve misted them straight to the bench where the air was calmer, but Stirling was content beneath the blanket of curls, and she certainly didn’t mind. Besides…

Where’s the fun in that?

Exactly.

Her body bobbed in Brand’s hold as the gravel crunched beneath his feet. Just as violently as it appeared, the gale calmed to nothing more than a cool breeze, and her heart swelled at the precious familiarity of it. And after he settled onto the seat he made all those months ago, reaching in to part the screen of her wild waves…

Weeping moons, that face.

She loved it more than any other sight.

Stirling stretched with a yawn and climbed back to his usual perch, claws sinking into Brand’s shoulder.

Brand chuckled as he nuzzled the fox, then tucked the rest of Lunara’s wayward strands away, the deep sound burrowing into her. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

The smallest wave of his power swept over and away from her as he gripped the high collar of her last borrowed robe and rent it in two. She would apologize to Magnus later.

“Exquisite creature,” he rasped, touch trailing neck to navel—the same line he showed her through the bond mere moments ago in the Great Hall.

His other hand beckoned and a tinkling crack sounded. Brand called the broken shard of Straelon’s mighty Solyr Prism to hover between them, eyes on hers as he shaped it into a perfect match for Illamiata.

It didn’t matter that she was still its Keeper. That its magic flowed from here to Argoph, and everywhere in between, at her command. The Elder Council would never accept Lunara, or the change she wanted to set in motion, without it.

The crystal bent and warped, facets appearing on its teardrop surface as bits cut away to dust. And when it was done, Brand sent it into her, where it nestled into the void Illamiata had left behind.

“There,” he murmured, lips pressing to the new stone. “The Evesong’s Most-Assuredly-Not-Cursed Blessing, once again.”

“I don’t think the Elder Council are going to accept that mouthful.”