The perfect excuse. Time to flee.
She took a tentative step back, wringing a curl in her fingers. “I should probably go and see to my healings. I’ll just…” She turned to leave?—
“Wait.”
Brand was there in an instant, looking down at her. “No healing. Packing. We leave in an hour.”
What!
“An hour!” Hedda shrieked. “What in the realms is going on?”
Brand made a gesture at Magnus, who retrieved the message and handed it to the Demon commander.
“Can you hold our things for us?” he asked, ignoring the others again. “In the ether?”
“Of course. But…” The dagger’s handle dug into her palm, still there though she’d forgotten it completely. She raised it between them. “I was supposed to have two more days. Even that wouldn’t have been enough. I’m not ready.”
She hadn’t been ready for any of this. Couldn’t fathom what she was doing in Straelon, surrounded by Demons and Imperials and kings. Fighting with weapons.
Madness. Utter madness.
He engulfed her hand with both of his own. “You’re going to be fine. You won’t even need it. We’re only spending a few days at a village in the Westrealm. Forget about the Forgotten and all that other shite. The most you’ll need to worry about is whether or not you’re actually going to ingest the sheer amount of alcohol the Wolflords will be plying you with.”
Lunara fought a hysterical bubble of laughter, tamping it down and bottling it up. As a result, her voice shook when she asked, “Promise?”
When Lunara started walking away,it was the first time Brand’s heart had turned over hard enough to make him sick in hours. The first time his lungs had constricted. That stinging jolt of panic had seized hold and convinced him he’d never see her again if he let her go.
She was bound to their journey, and being on it meant being close to her. So, in that moment, he’d made a snap decision.
If the Wolflords of Glynmor needed them now, then now they would go.
She was staring up at him with glassy uncertainty, her hand trembling beneath his own, clutching the dagger like her life depended on it. He recognized the look on her face on a visceral level but, instead of feeding his own useless self-doubt, it called up a fierce need to soothe her. Protect her. To erase that expression and ensure it never happened again.
He brought her clenched hand to his chest, pressing it to the spot above his heart. “I promise.”
She expelled a tremulous breath, wobbling slightly. “Okay. Alright. An h-hour, then.”
Brand released her and offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “We’ll meet beside the portal.”
She nodded, and he watched her go with clenched fists. The second she was out of sight, he turned on Magnus with a snarl. “Is it possible for you to at least try to be less of an arsehole.”
Mag reared back, gripping the collar of his robes with mock affront. “So angry,” he hissed towards Hedda out of the corner of his mouth.
Brand’s greater half seethed beneath the surface of his skin, split between tearing off in different directions.
Part of him wanted to follow Lunara and continue the closeness they’d been sharing. The ease. The fucking searing heat that’d been boiling between them.
The other wanted to beat his brother into an unrecognizable pulp.
“That’s the second time you’ve swaggered up and interrupted us.” He crowded Mag, letting enough of his rage loose to bring him eye level with his brother. To drop his fangs down. “The second time you’ve taunted and embarrassed her. Do it again, I fucking dare you. You can ask my Second how I feel about people mistreating the Sorcerit.”
Mag’s brows dropped, all humor gone in an instant. “Weeping Sisters. Is she?—”
Brand’s fist was plowing into his face before he could finish that cursed fucking sentence. Magnus staggered back and righted himself but didn’t move to retaliate. Just flashed a satisfied grin, blood dripping from the split in his lip.
“Get all your shite to the great hall within the hour, and don’t forget it’s you that needs me—not the other way around.”
Magnus nodded, but Brand didn’t miss the way his eyes tightened, a shadow of hurt lingering there. “Aye, little brother. That’s the way of it. This time.”
