Damn it.
Hedda wastwo feet away from her bedroll, face down and drooling in the dirt, and still snoring.
A frisson of worry went through him. The scene was all wrong. She was sprawled out, one foot half buried in the cold ash of the fire pit, hair a mess, flask at her side. Brand couldn’t recall a single time in their lives he’d witnessed her like that. Utterly vulnerable.
“Second, to me.”
Nothing.
“Hedda!”
She didn’t so much as twitch.
Lunara knelt and laid her hand on Hedda’s shoulder. Light shone beneath her fingers, a frown on her lips. “Headache,” she said. “Migraine, actually. Rather severe. Does she often suffer from those?”
Ah. The flask.
Immediately, his heart halted its frenzied gallop, his lungs easing.
“Her cycle causes them.” He nodded to the carved wooden container by her head. “She keeps a tonic with her, just in case. Probably why she’s out of it. But…” He thought back, to the last time Hedda had been indisposed. “It seems too soon for that.”
Lunara tilted her head. “You note such things?”
“She’s like a sister to me. Besides, anyone with a cycle is doted on for the duration of its visit. It’s useful to be able to anticipate them and ensure their care accordingly.”
Her brows punched up. “Blessed moons. I never heard such a thing.” She cast her gaze down to Hedda. “How fortunate for those in the Montrealm.”
“I assume the Sorcerit wave their fingers and never have to feel a thing.”
Lunara busted out laughing. “And you were doing so well.” She used her power to turn Hedda over. “No. It’s taboo to mention it, and we can’t heal ourselves. For many of us, the price of our magic is pain. What makes a cycle any different?”
“That’s barbaric.”
She shrugged. “That’sjust the way it is.”
She said it so indifferently, and it pricked at him. He knew she lived alone, but to have so little concern for her own comfort?
Her mouth twisted as she palpated Hedda’s stomach. “She’s fertile, not shedding.” She gently swept Hedda’s hair away and flattened her palms on either temple. “Fortunately—or unfortunately, I suppose—migraines are common at both times. Nothing to worry about.”
Lunara’s face contorted into a grimace and her magic slammed into him, same as every other time. Potent. Massive. A caress and a wallop all at once.
Hedda shot up, gasping and swinging.
“It’s fine, Second. Take a breath.”
She glared up at him. “What the fuck?”
Lunara blew a slow breath through pursed lips as she swayed. “I healed your headache. It can be disorienting, so try to stay calm.”
“Headache?”
“You were out like that one.” Brand hiked a thumb at the comatose Fae on the far side of their camp. “Lunara healed and woke you. How are you feeling?”
Lunara snatched up Hedda’s flask and waved it under her nose. “Where did you get this?”
Hedda twisted to look at Lunara. “Where didyouget that?”
“It was on the ground next to you. Brand said it’s yours?”
