Relief was instant as he was thrown to the side, Hedda roaring over him.
And still, Lunara screamed.
“What should we do?” Faldir dropped beside Lunara, eyes wide, a look akin to panic on his face. Something about the way he was looking at her, like he actuallycared…
“Don’t fucking touch her,” Brand ground out, unable to discern whether it was the twisting jealousy in his gut or concern for his friend fueling the words.
Fucking territorial Demon shite.
Hedda stood silent, looking back and forth between him and Lunara, and he could see the cogs turning in her mind.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, shaking his head as he crawled across the wooden boards beneath him until he was by Lunara’s side again.
She gave him a pointed look, nodding. “I’m thinkingyou’rethe only one who shouldn’t ‘fucking touch her,’ as you so delicately put it, Your Highness.” With that, Hedda wrapped her arms around Lunara and tore her away.
They tumbled to the ground, the sudden silence deafening. Brand lunged to gather Lunara from his Second, cradling her against him and murmuring things likeI have youandjust breatheanddon’t fucking scare me like that ever againas he rocked back and forth.
Hedda groaned, rolling to all fours. “Weeping Sisters, even I felt it.”
“I know it was a bleeding mistake,” Lunara mumbled, lids fluttering as she half-consciously tried to free herself from his hold. “Yes, yes. Perfect. Wonderful advice. Your logic is flawless, as ever.”
She was speaking complete nonsense, her tone sarcastic.
Confused, Brand cleared hair away from her pale cheeks, her skin clammy beneath his touch. “Shh. It’s fine. You’re fine.”
Her eyes shot wide when he said that, gaze scanning his face like she wasn’t sure where she was, who he was. He saw the moment she regained control, and was already mourning the loss of her in his arms before she’d even started scrambling away.
“She… I don’t…” Lunara thudded onto her backside, fighting to detangle her skirts as she dragged herself over to the Fae.
Brand gasped, ready to wrench her back when she lifted a hand and let it hover bare centimeters above the female’s body. He trembled with the desire to rail at her, to save her from her own bloody recklessness, but he forced his mouth to stay fucking shut. He’d done enough damage today, even if he didn’t have the slightest clue what he’d done to set her off.
Either time.
“That’s never happened before,” Lunara whispered, listing to the side before righting herself again.
Almost absentmindedly, she reached into the ether with her other hand and withdrew a flask of blood—his, though she didn’t know it. He tracked the movement as she twisted the top off and took a long pull, her skin flushing with renewed life.
Helpless as he’d been, it was a relief he had this to offer—to her, to the Fae. A paltry contribution amongst the wreckage surrounding them, but it was something.
Lunara replaced the lid and cast the flask aside with a sigh, pushing to her knees. More of that prismatic light sprang to life and lit the space between her fingers and the Fae’s head, threads of white-hot power dancing down like lightning bolts.
A sharp howl rent the air then, distant but still within Glynmor’s borders.
Magnus.
In the chaos, he hadn’t realized his brother had left. Hadn’t considered him at all.
Fuck, the sound of it was pure suffering.
“I’ll go check on him,” Hedda said softly, already making for the ladder.
Faldir only grunted as he joined his twin, leaving him and Lunara alone.
“I have to still her particles to move her,” she murmured, almost to herself. “There’s no way for me to heal her here like this. I have no idea what it is, but her damage runs… deep. So much deeper than we can see.”
A glowing barrier began to spread from Lunara’s outstretched fingers, flowing over the Fae’s limbs until it wrapped around her, encasing her supine form in a pod of light.
It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. There were no Sorcerit he knew capable of such a thing. Between this and what he’d witnessed her do to Caius, with Baldrir, there was no more doubt.
