He looked bewildered when he softly said, “I find myself wondering if there are any bounds to your kindness.”
Weeping Sisters, she was too bleeding tired for this. Too raw.
The truth was that there were already days when Lunara struggled to remember what kindness was. When she was so full of fear and sorrow that there was barely room for anything else. When she was numb to everything other than her hatred for the Elder Council, and the atrocities they’d allowed in the name of preserving Nachthelliae’s power.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say so, her mind and body almost too wrecked to care that she shouldn’t.
Almost.
“I hope not,” she answered instead, taking a step backwards to put some distance between them. “What good is kindness if it has a limit?”
Every stepcloser to their small camp felt more impossible than the last.
Trudging along, limbs stiff with pain, Lunara would have sworn to the Sisters that her feet were made of stone. Even her eyelids felt too heavy to lift after each traitorous blink.
When she reached the cold fire pit and fell onto one of the earthen platforms Brand had made, she nearly sobbed with relief. Hedda’s low chuckle raised Lunara’s hackles, but the Demon was forgiven the second she laid flint to wood and brought blessed warmth to the situation.
Eyes closed, Lunara fought sleep while she listened to the low rumblings of the others’ voices, trying to muster the energy to summon her flask—assuming there was any blood left in it.
A sudden chill accompanied the disappearance of the fire’s light behind her lids, but Lunara was too damned tired to scream. Instead, she hissed, “Whoever you are, I swear to theSisters that I will turn you into something hideous if you don’t move in the next two seconds.”
Brand’s answering chuckle was the only warning before Lunara was being scooped up and pressed to his chest.
She flailed, prying her eyes open. Even this close, he was nothing more than a black silhouette surrounded by orange flames.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought you might be hungry, even tired as you are,” he said softly. “And I thought you’d prefer to be clean when you eat.”
He crossed the camp, ignoring her struggles, and walked them deeper into the trees. Her body was at war with itself, wanting everything he promised but still incensed with this repeat of his earlier actions.
“Brand, put me down,” she said through her teeth.
“You don’t want to wash?”
“I don’t want to be hauled around andforcedto wash.” She pushed against his unforgiving chest. “Just like I didn’t want to be forced intospeaking plainlyearlier.”
His head jerked back as if she’d slapped him. “Forced?”
He said it like it was ridiculous.
“Blessed moons, Brand. Let go of me!”
He set her feet to the ground and took a step back, obviously at a loss. She ignored the pang of regret in her chest, the chill running along the side of her body that’d been plastered up against him.
“I don’t see the problem,” he said, throwing his hands up. “I was only trying to protect you.”
“I know that, but my life is complicated.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and loosed a sigh. “There are certain things I don’t… I didn’t like it, and that should be enough. Alright?”
Well, aren’t you chatty. Go on, tell him about the Elders while you’re at it.
Sarcasm aside, the temptation was there. Stars above, the words were practically crawling their way up her throat, begging to be free. Just so he would stop looking at her that way.
He won’t save you from them, you know. One word to his brother and you belong to the Council.
The reminder of his status as an Imperial Son drew her up short. It was so easy to forget how far he was above her. That she was in the presence of a creature who could ruin her with a word, a thought.
That you should watch your cursed mouth where he’s concerned.
