Brand craned to look over Luna’s head, where the dreadbeast had been.
There, lying in the grass and gore, was an aged Fae male and a female Demon.
They had to be hundreds of years old, hair like the whitest snow around his pointed ears and her grey, curling horns.
Both were missing limbs, and what was left was broken and twisted—a perfect match for the damage they’d done to the dreadbeast. Including a smoldering hole in the center of their bodies, tendrils of inky smoke rising to dissipate in the air. No, not smoke…
“The shadows did this to them?” Magnus was looking at him, as if he had the answer.
Brand fought back a rush of bile, the scene twisting the last couple hours into something he couldn’t bear to examine too closely.
“It seems the darkness within the chasms is capable of a great many horrible things,” Luna whispered.
Lunara drainedthe flask Thaddeus had given her the day before. Nowhere near the same power she gained from Brand, but her control was too uncertain when feeding from him directly. No one needed to seethat.
It’s fine, you’re fine. It’s better this way.
Lunara wasn’t so sure she agreed anymore. She was starting to see the possibility of a real life. A future where she wasn’t alone in the dark, but standing proudly next to her mate. It was daunting, but stars above, she wanted it.
For now, she had just enough strength left in her to see this last task through.
“I don’t like this.”
Brand lingered on the edge of the camp, jaw ticking, still fighting her demand that they leave.
Family always thought they knew best where healing was concerned, but they were rarely correct in that presumption. She’d had this exact conversation so many times she was numbto it, and his posturing did nothing to persuade her. Nothing to change her mind.
“I should be here. She’s going to need me.”
Lunara raised a brow at him. “Best case scenario, she’sgoingto be disoriented first, and then she’sgoingto be utterly heartbroken. Vulnerable. She will thenneedpeace and quiet, and the safety to do as she wishes without the pressure of others witnessing it. We collectively denied her a choice once already. We will now do her the courtesy of letting her decide how she’d like to move forward.” She turned her back on him and made for his sleeping Second. “I’m only asking you to be out of sight, not halfway across the realm, Brand. Watch from behind a bush if it’ll make you more comfortable, as long as you stay there until she or I say otherwise—no matter what she does.”
They’d discussed the very real possibility that Hedda would immediately try to murder her. Lunara would hardly blame her if she did. She’d stolen her autonomy, after all. Yes, it had been to save her from herself, but she’d been quietly sick over it ever since they’d returned to their camp and seen Hedda lying there, certain she was no better than the Elder Council after all.
“What if she?—”
“Then I’ll handle it, Brand,” she snapped over her shoulder. “Whatever it is. Now, go.”
The quiet snickering floating in from the near distance didn’t help. He stared at her for a moment longer, resplendent even in his anger, before spinning on his heel with a low grunt and stomping into the trees.
“Finally.” Lunara settled gingerly onto the leaf-strewn ground and lifted Hedda’s limp hand in both of her own. “Just you and I now, my friend. At least, I hope you forgive me and we can still be friends.” She sent out a thread and delved into the sleepy darkness of Hedda’s mind. “Time to come back.” Lunarastroked her fingers, trying to draw her along softly. “Follow my voice, the pinprick of light.”
Waking those she’d put under wasn’t quite the same exchange of pain and power as healing, but it was wearying nonetheless. It sapped her, trying to lullherto sleep instead.
At long last, Hedda blinked, her eyes unfocused but growing sharper with each passing second.
“That’s it. Relax and let it happen, slow as you like.” Lunara kept up her crooning, dreading the moment when?—
Hedda’s gaze locked onto hers, a ragged hitch in her breath as her hand tightened, grinding Lunara’s knuckles against one another. Lunara breathed through the spike of pain, refusing to alert Brand in any way that this might already be going poorly.
Her heart pounded as Hedda’s other hand came up to grip her, dragging their clenched fists to her chest and pulling Lunara closer.
“You…” She sucked a breath through clenched teeth, tears gathered on her lashes and wobbling there. “He’s…” Her lids fluttered and they spilled over, falling down into her hair. “He’s gone, isn’t he?”
Not what she’d expected, but she should have. Hedda was nothing if not pragmatic when she was herself. If only her return was something they couldallbe rejoicing.
Lunara’s eyes welled in response. “We tried,” she whispered, “but…”
Hedda nodded, shrinking in on herself.
