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“I think it’s time for you to meet your new mum, Stirling.”

No more days. Today was the day.

The oily surface of the portal danced before Brand, casting its magical glow like everything else did in Nachthelliae.

“Not sure how you’re going to fare in the Montrealm, my friend,” he murmured, reaching up to the crook in his crown of horns where Stirling was settled, and giving the fox a little scratch. “I suppose we’re about to find out, hmm?”

They were both about to find out.

He wasn’t fixed. In fact, there might never be a day for the rest of his life that Brand called himself whole, and there were still many things he needed to do, but he was content. At peace, maybe for the first time in his adult life.

Most of all, he was ready.

“Prepare yourself, Stirling. The most beautiful creature in all of Bordoroth is waiting on the other side. You’ll be tempted to bow down in worship if you know what’s good for you, but you’ll have to resist. She doesn’t like that sort of attention, except in very specific conditions which you will never be a part of. Shall we?”

A deep breath, and Brand tossed his toll into the portal.

If he thought at all beyond seeing her, Brand might’ve considered waiting until evening descended on his home. Unfortunately, he didn’t, and Solyrian stabbed its jagged rays directly into his eyes the second he stepped through.

Right into the busiest of the breakfast rush in the Great Hall.

Hordes of his brethren froze mid-meal, the hush spreading like a hurtling tidal wave from one side of the massive space to the other.

Brand waited for the anxious spike in his pulse as he dropped his arm, blinking to adjust. The flush to crawl its way across him. For the fist on his tongue and the numbness in lips and limbs.

Instead, Stirling butted up against his cheek and squinted lazily out, surveying all they loomed over, and Brand felt…

Nothing but relief.

He flashed half a smile. “Good morning, all.”

The responding eruption of greetings was nothing unusual but it was nigh overwhelming after the silence of…however long he’d been gone. He gritted his teeth against the wall of sound and offered waves and nods as he made his way through, looking for her.

Brand didn’t want to open the bond. He was not at all interested in making Luna drop everything because she felt obligated to respond, summoning her like a servant. No, wherever she was, whatever she was doing, he would go to her.

Only then would he tear down the walls he’d built and show her what she’d done for him. Then he would get to groveling.

He couldn’t wait.

A pair of tiny feet landed on his shoulder, and Fern crouched down to yank his head sideways and search his eyes. “You weren’t supposed to come back until you could get yourself out of the rage, twig dick. Do I need to kick your arse back through the portal?”

Brand chuckled. “Hello, Fern. No. I’m perfectly capable. I thought I might make a grand entrance and point.” He peered behind her⁠—

“She isn’t here.”

His impulse was to demand Fern explain why Luna was absent and she wasn’t with her, but he bit it back. He refused to be that Greater arsehole anymore.

“Would you, perhaps, be willing to clarify that? Like why you’re here when she’s not.”

It was harder than wanted to admit.

“We all made a deal because Araxis was begging her to start seeing to her duties, and I refuse to go back the starry shitsong until its not fucking cursed anymore.”

That was a lot to unpack in a single sentence.

“What was the deal?”

“Lyriat signed a decree naming the twins her permanent guard. Araxis asked only for a few hours a day and usually accompanies her home safely around lunchtime.” Her face pinched, a small sneer on her lips. “He also swore to keep her out of harm’s way so she could fulfill her promises to you, but seeing as the literal first thing that happened was someone on the Council calling a vote to cull her, I would say he is—as expected—doing a piss poor job of it.”