Brand took his first full breath as darkness enveloped them, and commanded the dome to melt away—looking up to find every last, idiotic member of his family still there.
With a huff, he used a finger to clear her face, and hooked it under her chin. “Little moon?”
His gasp was sharp when she turned her face up to him, the whole of her eyes a shocking, glowing white, instead of their usual faint and silvery swirl.
When Araxis misted in next to them, they rolled back into her head and she passed out.
Brand’s fist shot out in a blur, twisting into his brother’s tight leather armor. “What the fuck just happened?”
Araxis didn’t even try to fight the hold. Just looked down at her and said, “We’ve found Malachyr’s successor, at last. Your mate is the Keeper of Illamiata.”
Lunara was pluckedfrom her nightmare and thrust violently back into consciousness.
Heart pounding, she scrambled to hold on to what she’d seen. There’d been an urgency to the warping images, the strange, gilded door always just out of reach, but they were slipping like sand through her fingers.
All but one was swallowed by darkness, the one that woke her, and she wanted to scream—a vision of Brand’s naked body, lying broken and bruised upon a blackened stone slab.
She sucked in a shuddering breath, trying to clear the awful sight from her mind. Another.
A dream. Not real. Not?—
“Have you finally returned to me, little moon?”
Brand’s low voice settled over her, batting away the last clinging remnants of her fitful sleep, and Lunara’s eyes shot open to find the rugged perfection of her mate’s face inches away.
His unbeaten, unmarred, beautiful face.
The relief that tried to suffuse her bones was blocked entry by the intensity of Brand’s stare. Something about it, about the little trace of fear lacing his words…
Every wretched moment of the cursed meeting came crashing back.
Turned out, some nightmareswerereal.
Lunara scrabbled backward and hit the headboard, making herself as small as possible, fighting to keep her breaths under control. “You have to go. Now.” There was less force in her words than she’d been trying for, but the sentiment stood.
A furrow formed between his brows when he shook his head. “Seeing as this is my chamber, I’m not sure that’s true.” Spoken like a question.
She finally looked around, only just realizing she was in an unfamiliar, gigantic room.
The light was dim, but she could make out the dark wood and heavy furniture dotting the space. A huge fireplace darkened one wall beside a sitting area, and a few closed doors led to unknown destinations. No trinkets, no clutter. Even the gauze curtains hanging from the bed frame and around the open balcony doors were utterly confident in their necessity.
But what truly caught her eye was the domed glass ceiling directly above them, showcasing a perfect view of the night sky.
“This isn’t how I intended you to see my—our—quarters for the first time, since it isn’t the real thing, but I suppose an exact replica works just as well.”
It was wonderful and confusing—and she had to get as far away from it as possible, as quickly as she could.
Aflashand she heard the breathy choke of her mother’s voice. Saw Malachyr looming behind her. Clawing. Groping. Demanding her gift.
No, no, no.
Lunara leapt off the bed and ran for one of the doors, ripping it open—just to be confronted with an absolutely humongous washroom.
The next door was a closet.
The next one went up. Where the stone staircase led, she had no idea.
One left. One door between herself and everyone’s safety.
