The sight was enough to have her pleasure building all over again, stirring the lingering remnants of her previous climax into a renewed frenzy.
His gaze snapped to hers, a wicked grin spreading slowly across his face as he pulled out of her without warning.
Her whimper of denial was nothing short of pathetic.
“Remember this feeling,” he murmured, drawing one of her legs out and rubbing the cramping muscles in her calf. “Hold on to it.”
“You’re torturing me, Demon,” she whined as he kneaded the arch of her foot. “Why?”
“Because…” He set that leg down gently and gathered the other. “I want every look between us to carry its charge. Forevery needy twinge shooting down your spine to be in answer to my own. And because I want you so worked up that you gladly give yourself to me in the first hidden alcove we happen upon in the palace, knowing I’m just as desperate to have you in return.”
He laid down next to her, propped up on one elbow as he gripped her nape and devoured her mouth. She clasped his horns, dragging him closer and hoping to change his mind. Unfortunately, he had far more control than she did.
Brand broke away, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “Now, little moon—are you ready to meet my parents?”
Lunara looked down at their naked bodies and burst into laughter.
“I hopeyou don’t mind, we have a bit of a walk,” Brand said, lacing his fingers with hers.
She nodded, in a stupor when Brand drew her along behind his brothers as they stepped off the platform and disappeared into the throng around the portal.
There was no such thing as responding. No forming thoughts, let alone words.
The Weeping City, capital of the Great Plateau and the epicenter of creation, rose up around her in shades of grey and green, white and gold. Emerald vines clung to the lofty stone structures, their leaves as large as supper plates. Colorful canopies were suspended over the stalls lining the open market they’d stepped into, shouts and laughter ringing out over the din of the crowd to mix with the scent of spiced food in the air. Creatures from every realm meandered, pausing only to acknowledge the Imperials among them with bows and nods and dipping curtsies before going about their business.
It was the Palace of Argoph, though—perched on its mesa above—demanding all of her attention.
Brand’s home.
Wide, seemingly infinite steps of glimmering stone gave the illusion they were growing out of the city itself, springing into view above the skyline. Cleaving the elevated land in two, they cut up through rock and flora to terminate at the palace’s foundation atop, so huge that the hundreds—maybethousands—daring the climb looked like little more than scurrying insects in comparison.
Argoph itself rose in ivory tiers, sculpted pillars and ancient columns holding each diminishing level aloft. Gilded domes topped the dozens of towers in its rounded perimeters, the central, largest one looming high above the rest and glinting in Solyrian’s light like its own sunstar.
Waterfalls streamed from the uppermost story and fell to the next, and the next, and the next, building into five massive cascades that pummeled over the cliff edge beneath arching bridges, carving themselves into the land as they rushed away.
The Realm Rivers, being birthed from the Fountain of All Life right before her very eyes.
Tears pooled in Lunara’s eyes as she beheld them, their distant roar calling out to her like a siren’s song. The closer they got, the faster her feet wanted to move, until she was the one tugging Brand along.
At last, they rounded a final corner, shoulder-to-shoulder with countless others on their way into the palace grounds, and were greeted by a garden of sorts. The open expanse laid at the foot of the steps, trimmed with trees and wild, reaching greenery. Stunning blooms jutted from their stalks into the pathways and lined the grassy area, almost swallowing the intermittent benches and gathering places.
Lunara tipped her head back, gaze pushing past the crystalline stairs and soaring into the sky. Argoph seemed to mingle with the clouds themselves, so far above them it stole her breath away, excitement and trepidation twisting with equal measure.
“There are no images or renderings or words in all of Bordoroth that do this justice,” she breathed.
Magnus turned to look over his shoulder with a grin. “Aye. They can’t quite capture the feeling, no matter how they might try.”
Even Vann had perked up, his limp less pronounced, a look of utter serenity on his beautiful face.
“I have to tell you,” Brand murmured. “This will be an announcement, of sorts.”
A month ago, Lunara would’ve shied away, unwilling to do anything that would draw attention to herself. Now, with him at her side, she didn’t even mind. “How so?”
They reached the edge of the green, a dozen yards from the base of the steps. Between them, a mosaic depicting the Sisters and their forming of Bordoroth had been immaculately laid into the stone. The circle where the world might have been between their hands was empty of detail, copper tiles forming a hoop around a void of midnight blue.
Oily, shimmering midnight blue. A portal.
Those weaving around them were careful to steer clear of it, no one stepping upon the yawning space—except for Brand’s brothers, who disappeared the moment they were inside of it.
