Lunara was leaning forward, her body trying to pull itself towards the gown and all it represented.
But what if he changed his mind? What if he never sees you quite the same way?
What if, what if, what if.
“Two and a bleeding half…” Magnus loosed a long-suffering sigh and started forward. “You asked for it.”
“Wait.” Without giving it another thought, Lunara called the particles of the dress to herself, wrapping them around her body in less time than it took to blink.
“Thank fuck for that. Let’s go.”
“Please, a few more minutes.”
Lunara scurried over to the crates, digging around. It was unlikely she had anything, but it was worth?—
Nyri grabbed her shoulder. “Deep breaths.” She pulled Lunara to a chair, a vase of trilliatum on the table beside it. “Sit.” One by one, the blooms in the vase disappeared as Nyri ran deft fingers through Lunara’s curls, working her own sort of magic before presenting a small vial. “Drink this.”
Lunara didn’t question the pink, swirling liquid as she tipped it back. The rosy tonic fizzed its way down, burrowing in and suffusing her cheeks with warm tingles.
“Much better.” Nyri winked. “You look like yourself again.”
“Aye.”
“I’m terrified,” she whispered.
“Then you’re definitely yourself again,” Magnus quipped. “Come on.”
“Wait!” Nyri shrieked. “She has to see herself!”
She shoved Lunara into the washroom, in front of the full length mirror gracing one wall, and?—
Shitting stars. Lunara hardly recognized herself.
Brand must’ve described her preferred shape of gown right down to the stitches—a neckline that barely clung to her shoulders. Long, billowing sleeves gathered at the wrists. Skirts to the ground.
And yet, he’d taken liberties.
There was a slit in one side that went all the way up a thighandhip, and the bust of it left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It was almost carnal, the way the fabric flowed over her like water, even as it stayed perfectly in place, clinging to her skin and hugging her curves.
The flowers Nyri had woven into her hair looked like they’d sprouted from inside her. Like her curls had been made to hold them. It was still wild and rebellious, but that only complimented the garment.
Lunara feltbeautiful,in a way she maybe never had before, but still. “What if it’s not enough?”
What if she’d let him down so spectacularly by running away thatshejust… wasn’t enough anymore?
Magnus barked out a laugh. “Brand’s head is going to melt right out of his arse when he sees you.”
“I know the feeling,” she whispered, knowing they weren’t at all talking about the same thing.
What if, what if, what if…
“The sunstar won’t wait for the likes of us, witchling. Trust me, you won’t want to miss this.” He jutted out an elbow, brows expectant. “Shall we?”
What if…
She’d never know if she didn’t try.
With a deep breath, knees shaking, Lunara took his arm.
