The sight of Brand made her stop breathing altogether.
He’d braided his hair over one shoulder, and beads of sweat had stuck some of the errant strands to his face, his jaw—like he’d already been exerting himself elsewhere. His wrapped tunic was gaping and damp, wide sleeves rolled up to reveal most of his considerable arms. The trousers he wore only reached his calves and his feet were… bare.
Bleeding moons.Not even the sight of the Demon King, shirtless and swaggering beside him, was enough to distract her.
They took the field, Lyriat shouting something she didn’t quite catch. Everyone fell into lines and groupings, facing one another, their bodies poised. With a word, chaos broke. It was much the same as Hedda and Faldir had grappled, but louder. Wilder. Moving with rhythmic precision that complemented the actions of the warriors beside them and boggled her mind.
Brand commanded the space around him, dodging attacks, delivering hammering blows of his own. At one point, he locked horns with another and roared so loudly, so fiercely, that it carried above the din of mock battle like it was meant for her ears alone. Stars above, his face. The power. He was?—
“Care to join in?”
Lunara yelped, her face crashing into the tree trunk. She choked back the beating of her heart as it spiked up into her throat, but there was no hope for the flush she knew was staining her cheeks.
Wonderful. Only thing worse than sneaking around is being caught doing it.
Hedda chuckled and stepped around to face her. “Why hide over here when you could be over there?”
How in the arsing stars… She was just with the rest of them!
It was too difficult to look directly at Hedda. It would make the embarrassment real. Instead, Lunara darted another glance over to the practice field as she collected herself, the blur of Demons moving with such fluidity that it made her dizzy. “No. I could assuredlynotbe over there.”
“Why not? All Sorcerit learn to fight. How else could they add it to the list of things to charge for?”
Lunara ignored the pang in her chest. “Not all of them,” she murmured.
You’re begging for it. You’re literally begging to be outed. For shite’s sake.
What were the odds that she would just be having the thought and then Hedda would come over to make her voice it?
She shook herself. “Anyway, I wouldn’t have what it takes to spar with the likes of them. I’d be trampled in a second.”
Hedda considered her for a moment before leaning against the tree and crossing her arms. “You know, you’re peculiar. Even for a Nachthellian.”
That got her attention.
She snapped her eyes to Hedda’s. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Hedda shrugged. “I’ve always thought Sorcerit were all a little off. Creepy.”
“Creepy!”
“You, more than most.”
Lunara recoiled. This was a dream, or a nightmare. Surely. Any minute she would wake up and not be having this nonsensical conversation.
“You Sorcerit with your glowy skin and shiny eyes. Fangs that don’t put themselves away when you’re not feeding.”
Still not waking up.
Was she actually trying to be rude?
“Don’t even get me started on the feeding thing, actually.” Hedda shuddered. “You drink blood for fun? Disgusting.”
For fun! What in the?—
“Not to mention that you’re all attached to your spooky-arsed realm like a babe to its mother’s teat. Are you even allowed to be out under the sunstar this long?”
Lunara gritted her teeth as she dug her fingernails into her palms. “Why are you saying this?”
