To his enormously powerful build—which you should ignore, ignore, ignore.
Now that he was in front of her, so close that Lunara could see the flecks of sparkling rust and green in his hazel eyes, could almost feel the rise and fall of his chest against her own, something shifted between them. Like they’d crossed a line she hadn’t known was there.
The way he was looking at her—lips parted, eyes jumping back and forth between her own, brow furrowed—stole every thought away.
“I—”
Another hand appeared in front of her face. “Practicing staring your enemies to death now?”
Lunara jerked away, blinking, falling right back into the pocket of general mortification in which she tended to live.
Magnus chuckled. “I hate to be the one to tell you witchling, but I don’t think it’s going to work. The Forgotten don’t care how bonny or blue your eyes are—they’ll jump straight into the slashing and eating part.”
Eating! Oh, this just keeps getting better. Sure you’re not ready to get the fuck out of here yet?!
“What? Why are we talking about Forgotten? I thought we were going to a quiet village.”
“Aye, a Thodeleborian village planted right up against a Dread Chasm. Now that I mention it, Forgotten won’t be our problem. It’ll be the dreadbeasts.”
“D-dreadbeasts?” Her voice was little more than a croak. “Those aren’t real.”
Unless there was something the Imperials and Realm Rulers knew that everyone else was blessedly unaware of.
Magnus leaned in. “Sure about that?”
“Mag.” Brand’s voice was low and rumbling, a warning in the single word.
“Ach, away lad. I’m just messing with her. The Forgotten though…” Magnus waggled his eyebrows at her. “Those are definitely real.”
“What the fuck do you need?” Brand hissed through his teeth.
“No fun, I swear.” Magnus’s sigh was heavy as he held up a half-curled parchment. “I’ve just received this.”
At first, Brand didn’t take it. His gaze was locked on her, jaw clenching. Lunara might’ve been worried the aggravation there was meant for her, but when he finally reached out, he snapped the message from his brother’s hand and sent him a searing glare.
Magnus only smirked back.
Smug, ruining bastard.
More like the only one here with any brains whatsoever. You should be thanking him for pulling your head out of your arse.
Brand scanned the missive, lips pursed until he loosed an explosive sigh and looked up. “Scorched leaves, stunted flowering—I don’t know what half of this means.”
Magnus took the parchment back and folded it into a hidden pocket of his robes. “It means the crops are starting to fail and we can’t wait any longer to leave. They need our help now. Today.”
“It’s still going to take some time for what they’ve asked me to do.” Brand rubbed a hand over one horn and down through his hair.
“Aye, but better they get water to the fields in the next two days, instead of four or five from now.”
Brand’s head flopped back, his eyes closing.
“Ahem, Your Highness, but why doesmyHighness look like you’ve just spat in his food?” Hedda sidled up with arms crossed. “He looked more than content the last time I checked in on him.” She threw Lunara a side-eyed look, her brow and one side of her mouth raising.
Sisters save her from shite-eating, puffed-up arseholes. She couldn’t even flirt poorly without everyone having an opinion about it.
You could have gone home, but no—you needed to make a deal with a king and wrap yourself up in nonsense that has nothing to do with you.
That’s when Lunara realized how high the sunstar was. She’d been so lost in Brand that she hadn’t noticed the practice field was completely devoid of anyone else. Or that half of the day had gone by.
