It was almost too much, how intensely she craved it.
Lunara took a tentative step towards him. “Your Majesty, Alwyn, I would be honored to?—”
Araxis aht Bordoroth—Blessed Nightmare of the Endless Dark, Fifth Imperial Son, and High Ambassador of Nachthelliae—appeared behind his parents from out of nowhere and immediately recoiled at the sight of her.
He was the same as her in so many ways, as if their ghostly, shimmering skin and piercing blue eyes had been crafted fromthe same spark of light in the cosmos. The only real difference, the only part of him that was not in perfect place, was his raven hair. Done in the old way—cropped nearly to his scalp on the sides, fading into longer lengths on top and in the back—a single lock had fallen forward to brush at his brow in a carefree flop that did not at all reflect his capacity for ruthlessness.
Oh, and the fact that he was a treacherous bastard.
“What in the cosmic fuck is thevery deadLunara the Moonweaver doing here?”
Ohhh, shite.
“…andthen we crested the hill and there he was, alive and well.”
The first his parents were hearing the tale, but Brand had lost count of how many times he’d recounted those dreadful few days at Glynmor—and it still didn’t make any more sense than it had while they’d lived it.
“There’s something we’re missing.” His father stood at one of the large windows in his private study, looking out over the city.
Araxis narrowed his eyes on Luna. “Something is often being missed.”
He’d said little else since arriving and demanding to know why he was looking at an apparition. After a gaping, awkward silence, his mother had diverted everyone’s attention towardsrelaxing.
So, here they were, posted up on heavy leather lounges with tea and tiny bites of food on the sideboards, pretending like it was any other day.
Hard to do when Araxis was hovering in a corner, utterly still. Quiet in a way that had little to do with noise as he glared holes into the side of Luna’s head. Brand could almost believe his brother was seeing straight through her to the secrets inside.
It made him fucking furious.
“I propose we leave the imposter conundrum alone for a moment.” His mother flitted around the room, refilling cups and plates. “We have documents from both Caius and the Chieftains, and Lyriat to go over that may help. In the meantime, I want to hear more about this dreadbeast.”
Entirely unnecessary for her to sound so excited by the prospect.
Brand sighed. “It’s dead. What more is there to say?”
She gave him an arch look. “My darling, there is always more to say.”
“You gave us no real details.” Amun sat on the settee across from them, legs crossed, one arm laid along the seat back. “What realm did it seem most closely related to? Were any of its features something else you’re familiar with? Thinkdeeper, brothers.”
“It was fucking hideous. Looked like someone tacked spiders legs onto a glob of fucking snot. Tasted like someone shat on a rotting carcass and then dipped it in vomit.” Mag managed to look bored as he painted that graphic picture. “Oh, and it was poisonous. Toxic? Venomous? I don’t know the damned difference. Pet tried to eat it, it was foul as fucking anything, and I almost died.” He shrugged as gasps sounded from both of their parents. “There really isn’t much else to it.”
Fionerys ran over to him, clenching his cheeks between her small hands. “Sounds like there’s plenty blimmin’ more to it, since no one said anything about almost dying!”
Brand couldn’t help a smile. “Thad’s maybe the only one who was never on the Veil’s doorstep at any point.” He squeezedLuna’s knee, letting his gratitude shine in the bond. “It worked out in the end.”
His mother’s gaze snapped up to him. “And you never thought to mention this in a letter, or in the last couple of hours we’ve beenchatting, or the fucking second you were in my presence?!”
“Mam.” Mag’s voice was gentle as he pried her clawed fingers from his face, little bits of frost stuck in the hairs of his beard. “We are well. Brand’s right, thanks to Lunara there.”
All eyes went to Luna, a blush stealing over her cheeks.
“Shite, witchling. Now that I really think about it, you’re theonlyreason we’re sitting here instead of traipsing around the Veil, and not just because of the healing.”
His father’s eyes bored into him and Mag, but Brand was having trouble focusing on anything other than Luna’s confusion slamming down the bond.
Her brows dropped, a crease cutting between them. “What are you talking about?”
“The talons. You’re how I got the idea to use them.”
