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“You better start talking before I lose my stars-damned mind, Lunara,” he growled. “What fucking happened? Who was that? How is my brother laying there looking like himself again? And what the fuck are the bars for?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I’m not entirely positive. And…that’s why you’re here.”

The weight of the whole world seemed to settle on his shoulders. “That isn’t good enough. I need more. I need…I need to be able to help him.”

Lunara sagged. She recounted her second meeting with the beast and the battle that ensued, Magnus growing paler with every word. “Brand is in control again, but it took astronomical amounts of moonlight and Illamiata basically imploding inside of me.”

His eyes dropped down, the rest of the blood draining from his face. “Weeping Sisters, Lunara. Have you seen yourself?”

His horrified whisper infuriated her. “What in the realms is that supposed to mean? What the fuck does my appearance matter at a time like this?”

“It doesn’t. Stop biting my head off and go look in the mirror, aye?”

It took all her strength not to punch him.

Instead, she did as he said and made for the washroom, the stones already glowing within. They beckoned but her feet hesitated at the threshold, not wanting to enter. The last time she looked in one of those mirrors, it had been under very different circumstances. The best and worst night of her life. She had good reason for completely avoiding it since.

Lunara wasn’t sure her heart would survive it.

“What are you waiting for?”

She gifted Magnus with a rude gesture and stomped in, refusing to register anything but the floor in front of her.

Until she found herself staring at the nearest basin, willing herself to look up.

It’s alright. The mirror can’t really hurt you. It’s all in your head.

Lunara hadn’t seen herself in weeks. There was no point in caring, so why bother? She far preferred the last memory of her own face being one with Brand poised behind her, their skin glowing with the matching whorls of their mating marks as he thrust into her, the gravel of his voice in her ear whispering things like “I am yours and you are mine” and “exquisite fucking creature.”

Just do it and get it over with.

Right.

It was almost funny, really, that she was thinking about her mating marks and where they were, just to look up and find herself…ruined.

From shoulder to shoulder, collarbone to cleavage, gnarled burns branched out from Illamiata like the very lightning it had produced. Her flesh was melted. Twisted. Tangled. Scarred. And cutting across the mess were four deep lacerations, red and angry.

The wounds throbbed with prismatic light nearest the Tear Stone, matching her heartbeat. All the searing pain, the inferno in her chest, must’ve been literal. She thought it was force, not actual fucking fire.

It’s not that bad. It’s…um…

Hideous. It was hideous. Even if Brand returned to her, even if she lived another half a century to see the next Occurrence in Straelon, her mating marks would be destroyed. Or hidden. Or gone altogether. Who the fuck knew.

She never should’ve looked in the cursed mirror.

Lunara spun and stormed out of the bathroom, begging the Sisters to erase the sight from her mind. Wishing the last few minutes never happened. Tamping down utter the devastation. “As I was saying, there’s a reason I brought you up here.”

“Witchling.”

She ignored the pity in Magnus’s voice and plowed on. “I figured it was best to keep him contained. I’m hoping the light and power in the bars will tame the thing inside him and keep it subdued. The only problem is that you won’t be able to leave, and no one else can come in while I’m…um…” She cleared her throat, looking away. “Resting. While I’m resting.”

His golden stare was penetrating, like he saw the lie as it fell from her lips. “You don’t want to rest here beside him? It helped in the cave. That wee shite had the smile of an innocent babe on his face when we found the two of you. Best I’ve seen him looking in an age. And he was starting to remember. He said⁠—”

“I know. I thought—” Lunara blinked back tears, damn the useless things. “It doesn’t matter. I need some space tonight. You know where to find me.”

Another lie, another breathless moment waiting to see if he’d notice or say something.

It didn’t feel as good as it should have when he said, “Aye, you’re right. You’ve been through enough today. Avoid the Great Hall. It’s a madhouse in there, and you’ll be right at the center of their attention if you show your face. But maybe…find Fern. She was more worried than truly angry. You know how she is.”