Page 108
“The moment, in the cave…”
“Yes.” He loosed a shaky sigh. “That, most of all.”
In an instant, the sky was bluer. The breeze smelled sweeter. The waves crashed louder. Every sense was amplified, elation buzzing over her skin.
Careful…
“It happened on the mountaintop.” Lunara made sure not to look at him, keeping her tone as soothing as she was able. “You wanted to show me Solyrian setting because, until that day, I’d never seen the sunstar before.”
His breath hitched, and she wanted to laugh.
“I know. You had trouble believing it then, too.” The ghost of a smile flitted across her lips, remembering their first real introduction and how it led to such a thoughtful gesture on his part. “That wasn’t the exact conversation, though—our places were switched. I was the one with a simple life and no love for money.”
A beat of silence, two, the tension building. Lunara willed him to say something. Anything.
Instead, Brand spun on his heel. “Are we all agreed, then? Cage me at night and hope I don’t fuck up during the day?”
“Lad…”
“Brilliant. You have my consent. Excuse me.” With that, Brand shut himself in the washroom.
Oh.
Numb. Numb is good.
Shite.
“If you’d like to watch me be torn to even smaller shreds,” Lunara rasped, “I’ll be in the Great Hall showing my traitorous, pollen-headed, pixie tit face to the Demon King.”
Numb was good. Far fucking better than feeling that hopeful fire die out, snuffed to nothing and leaving her empty inside.
Brand stared at his reflection, disgusted with what he saw.
All the things he didn’t remember, all the time that was gone, yet every last, fucking millisecond of the night before was as vivid as the stone beneath his hands.
The things he said and the sound of his voice. The feel of his bones protruding from face and hand to warp their way into something monstrous. The oily slick of that creature controlling and consuming his mind.
Brand was nothing more than a spectator to the violence, screaming inside while he watched himself attack the beautiful creature he just realized was his true mate.
Just enough of a glimpse of her to care. Just enough of a new beat in his heart to see her.
For the briefest of seconds, he and the other half converged, and he absorbed some of the Greater’s worries and realizations. The reason for its absence. And for the first time since waking, Brand was relieved by the disconnect from that part of himself. Grateful that primordial power had the wherewithal to stay hidden.
Because the beast’s intentions were made clearer as well.
Brand’s power over the rock and earth was the key to its plan. The details were muddied but it didn’t matter. He’d been seconds away from losing his fight against it. Lunara was the only reason they avoided a horrific, earth-shattering disaster, and there was no doubt in his mind that she saved everyone in that cursed field. Himself included.
Weeping, fucking Sisters. He tried to kill his mate. It wasn’t the world that was unfamiliar, it was him.
Brand no longer recognized himself, and he couldn’t stand it.
He couldn’t even apologize to her properly. Couldn’t look her in the eye and express his gratitude for what she’d done. Couldn’t admit that he had glimpses of twilight on water and the feel of her wild hair beneath his fingers. That standing there—all but begging his feet to move so he could look upon the Horned City and complete the transition into this timeline—the only thing he’d been able to focus on was the scent of amber and moonlight. The way it eased him.
Shame was a tight fist around his throat, squeezing. He didn’t have a right to feel relief or comfort. No right to her kindness or effort.
He deserved that fucking cage, though. Every gorgeous, glittering bar of it.
A burst of blinding rage sizzled in his veins. With a roar that shook the room, Brand put his fist through the mirror, shattering the glass into thousands of sparkling pieces. They rained down, pinging against the basin and countertop, covering his skin like snow on the mountain, scattering into cracks and crevices.
