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It was, quite literally, the most Lunara ever heard him say at once.

The torment rippling through every particle put her beyond caring whether he was uncomfortable. If Araxis was so unhappy with the Elder Council for forcing him to do something, he never should’ve gotten into bed with them in the first place, Imperial Son or no. There was nothing selfish about Lunara refusing to bend her knee to the bastards so they could collar her just the same and render her useless to those millions they didn’t give a shite about.

No, Lunara had good fucking reason for avoiding them until she was ready—not the least of which was making sure she was sound enough not to choke every last one of them to death for what they did to her family.

“Is that what you told yourself when you voted against culling Malachyr? While you were standing idly by with the rest of them as he murdered my parents and half the staff in the Upper Block hours later? That it was your Sisters given duty?” she seethed. “Do not expect one ounce of my pity or understanding for whatever circumstances you’ve found yourself in with the Council, Your Highness. I am not responsible for your imprudence.”

There was no ignoring the way his face blanched. “We are not doing this right now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you busy? Is there someone else the Council needs you to kidnap?”

“No.”

“Good.” Lunara mustered her most saccharine smile. “That means you at least have time to tell me how I got here, and who else you betrayed in order to do it.”

Araxis stood there, silent and simmering, hands fisted at his sides.

“You know,” she mused, “I always thought your taciturnity was by nature—a quietly intense, observant disposition that was gifted to you at birth. Now, though, I find myself wondering whether it’s merely a convenient device you employ to avoid ever having to answer for the things you’ve done. To avoid having to look too closely at your own fucking shame.”

His lips peeled back, but he still refused to say a word.

“As I said—convenient.”

“Fern brought you,” he ground out.

Her fangs lengthened in an instant, aggression cutting its way through the rest of her pain. “Since I know she would never do such a thing willingly, I’m going to need you to elaborate.” Illamiata pulsed in her chest, the prismatic light flashing once before fading. “Where is she, Araxis?”

His eyes widened then darted away, muscle ticking in his jaw. “Back in the Montrealm.”

“Half-truths, at best.”

Fern would’ve fought Araxis to the death to keep Lunara away from him. Aside from the fact that she didn’t particularly like him, Fern was wholly aware and in full support of Lunara’s reasons for not yet being ready to take her place in Nachthelliae. Their entire world was at stake, embroiled in the Shadow Prophecy as it was being realized. One realm’s petty political maneuverings were irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.

The Council wanted the power Lunara offered them, first and foremost. They didn’t care about the people, or the land, or stability. Probably didn’t even care about the others in the Elder Tier. They desired more weight behind their fists as they punched down. More status and clout. Nothing else.

She had more important things to do than appease them.

“I’m going to enunciate very slowly, so you’re sure to understand,” Lunara said. “Tell me exactly what happened to Fern, or I’ll free the Tear Stone and go as mad as Malachyr.” She would never, but he didn’t know that. “Since we already know you won’t stop me⁠—”

“I misted in, broke her wing so she was forced to drop you, took her back to Straelon, and returned here before you hit the ground.”

Lunara blinked, so incensed that she wasn’t sure whether the burn in her nerve endings was from injury or rage. “Do you have any idea what it took to heal her wings the first time? Any idea what it means for her until I can do it again, you absolute fucking slug dick?”

Apparently, Fern is rubbing off on you.

Good. There was a time that even looking Araxis in the eye made her knees shake. She was done being afraid of him.

“I have some idea,” he muttered, “but I don’t really care. Her comfort is the least of my worries.”

She further channeled Fern and sent him a predatory grin. “Then you don’t know her at all.”

Still, there was something in the tone of his voice that pulled at her. A warning or…something.

Doesn’t matter. He lied and cheated and stole. Don’t go soft on him just because he sounds lost.

Lunara tried to take a deep breath, her sigh more of a cough. “Everything between us aside, why couldn’t this wait a few more days?” She refused the tears that tried to fall. “You didn’t even let me talk to Brand and hear for myself that the life in him beat strong and sure. Didn’t let me see with my own power that the Night was gone. Instead, I’m separated from him again. I’m meant to believe your word that he’s well, when you’ve proven over and over that you’re not to be trusted. How dare you, Araxis? He is your brother.”

“A fact I am ever painfully aware of.” Araxis crossed the room and waved a hand near the doorframe, snuffing the dim light in the walls to nothing. “It couldn’t wait because it took me this long just to have you conscious again, and the Occurrence is tomorrow. Perhaps by then, you will have accepted your circumstances and we can be more cordial with one another, sister.”