The budding leaves of spring, and their rot in autumn. The cry of a newborn babe, and the final, rattling breath before the Veil. The fresh light of rising dawn, and twilight fading into blackest night. The promise of forever, and the sharp stab of betrayal. Lovers and enemies. Laughter and screams.
He was everything and nothing, all at once. Teeming with the exuberance of creation, even as the airless void of him yawned wide.
When the shock of his power ebbed away, Lunara filled her lungs and discovered that the Second Imperial Son wasstunning.
More beautiful, than handsome. Lithe, far less bulky than his brothers, but still boasting wide shoulders and a clear command of his graceful body. Square, clean-shaven jaw. Full lips and highcheekbones. Strong, prominent nose and thick, arching brows—the only traits he shared with both Brand and Magnus.
His hair was a silken fall of pure starlight—the palest, glinting silver trailing down over the intricate tailoring of his bronze, floor-length coat. The tunic and trousers beneath were a perfect match for its umber lining, and only served to magnify the impression that his pale skin lacked coloring entirely. Whiter than bone, than snow, than porcelain. Fragile, almost, if one didn’t bother to look past the surface.
Valandyrian’s head tilted to the side, and…There.The source of his power, concentrated behind eyes that were… Mismatched wasn’t quite the right word.
Life and death. Beginning and end. Araxis might have been better.
One glittered like the clearest emerald, so deep and stark a green Lunara wasn’t sure she’d ever seen anything quite that shade. The other was its own sort of Dread Chasm. No whites, iris, or pupil, the solid orb of matte obsidian obliterated any light that deigned to touch it.
And yet—mismatched, or no—they were also sad.
His shoulders tensed as he raised his chin a fraction of an inch, and she realized—she’d seen that exact look countless times, on the battered faces of those in her care. A false, wounded bravado that told the very secret they were trying to hide.
Before her stood a male braced for cruelty, waiting for what he assumed was inevitable, and something protective rose up in her. Defensive. It burned hot and bright, and all for him. For a creature so used to abuse that he expected it.
Lunara bowed her head and met his gaze again. “I wish I could say Brand has told me all about you, Your Highness, but we’ve been rather preoccupied of late.” One side of her mouthquirked up. “Then again, if you’re anything like Magnus, you won’t mind enlightening me yourself.”
He relaxed, offering the barest nod as he took a hesitant step forward. “Please, Luna, call me Vann. May I greet you properly?” he asked softly, arms outstretched.
Lunara didn’t bother correcting him, or answering with words.
Wonderful. Add ‘hugging Imperial Sons left and right’ to the list of ninny-headed things you now consider to be normal.
His breath punched out in anoofas she flung her arms around him. “It’s lovely to meet you, Vann.”
It was like hugging a statue—until he thawed and embraced her in return, utterly restrained, as if used to moving slowly for the sake of others. After a beat, he drooped like putty, dropping his cheek to rest on top of her head.
What she did not expect was the kiss. A jolt shot down from her skull through tendon and bone, crackling back upwards and leaving sparkling revival in its footsteps.
On instinct, she leapt away, staring down at her tingling palms. “What in the…”
Shitting stars and arses. Do youfeelthat?
“That’s usually what he means byproperly,”Brand said, chuckling. “He refuses to tell us what it is, but you’re going to feel amazing for a bloody long while.”
“A trick of the Fae, nothing more.” Vann’s eyes dropped to the floor as he said it.
Another thing she recognized. He was lying, but… not in any way that would cause harm. She’d done the same often enough, in the interest of protecting herself.
“I told Vann of our Fae conundrum last night. I thought he might be able to tell us who she is?”
Brand offered his arm, but Lunara ignored it. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that’s not possible. Not yet, anyway.”
Vann’s brows punched up. “Why is that?”
She chewed the inside of her lip. Vann had every right to see one of his own, but…
“For starters, I’m not sure her own family would recognize her. It’s that bad.” Picking up an errant curl, Lunara twirled it between her fingers. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t easy to look two Imperials in the eye and tell them no. “You must understand—aside from the fact that enough people have ogled Fern in her vulnerable state and violated her privacy, I need to get on with healing her. Speculating over her mutilated body would not only be pointless, but would further delay that happening and rob her of even more dignity. Please, I’m asking for a few more days. By then, she’ll be able to tell you who she is herself.”
“Hmm.” Vann considered her for a moment. Stars above, it was like he saw right through her. “Your intentions are good. Pure.” It was almost a question, like he was confused by the idea.
“Most of the time,” she quipped.
