Page 259

His smile could’ve lit the whole of the Evesong, even with the tinge of sorrow she saw and felt in it. Complicated but pure. Unflinching.

Weeping moons, just look at him.

It had been months since she saw those crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Those lines that had etched their way through every happiness despite the rest, sinking deeper until the stories were permanent.

She drew her fingertips over them, heart squeezing so tight it took her lungs with it.

“How much time do I have?” His voice was barely audible, the same question asked so differently. “There are a few things I need to do.”

“I’m assuming, but if a vote was called due to your stunning display, which is likely, then every individual Sorcerit of the Elder Tier will have to state their name and short family history before confirming they were witness to it, then the same for the Council, who must also state their Yea or Nay on whether to cull me.” She shook her head, too engrossed in him for clear thought. “How long is five hundred and seventeen minutes?”

“Long enough.” Brand let her slip down until they were face to face, banding one arm around her so he could cup her cheek. “First, I am so sorry.” His brow furrowed, head shaking. “You fed an entire realm. A little moon suspended in the sky by brutal, cosmic power. My beautiful mate made deity. It was one of the most violent, shocking things I’ve ever witnessed, and I didn’t even have the wherewithal to check on you. To ensure your health and safety before I broke apart. That was one of the most difficult things for me to reconcile once I realized what I’d done, but—” He swallowed. “Allow me to rectify it. Are you well, Luna? Truly? Are you bloody alright?”

The sound that left her was half laugh, half sob. “I’m fine, I swear. To be honest, I don’t remember much of it. I had a visit with Endellion, but that can wait. As far as I’m concerned, I was standing in the amphitheater having spells cast on me, and then I woke up in my bed feeling entirely normal.”

Brand’s hazel eyes bounced back and forth between her own as if he didn’t quite believe it and wanted to make sure. Showing him the truth of it was easy, the bond pulling tighter between them until he relaxed and nodded.

“Second, I am so sorry.” His lips brushed hers. “I was too willing to wallow in my weakness. I understand that matehood is a push and pull, but I was unable to see myself clearly in order for it to be fair. Productive. I relied too heavily on your strength seeing me through, instead of using your support to find my own—until your letter.

“I’m not fixed,” he rasped. “I’ve struggled a dozen times since I stepped through the portal into Straelon hoping to find you on the other side of it. There’s so much shite to address that it makes my head spin, but your gift has made it possible to face. That taste of a simple life…” His turn for a strangled laugh. “I think I hated it. Partially because you weren’t there, but also because I finally had the time to realize how much I appreciate the life I have. How much the people in it mean to me.”

Another kiss, deeper, his tongue teasing hers before he parted on a nipping bite.

“Third, I am so sorry.” Brand toyed with her bottom lip, his thumb running across it side-to-side. “I had no right to judge the space you call home. I discovered quite a lot while I cleaned it. Before you lose your mind, everything is still there. The flowers. The notes. The linens sewn by countless different creatures. The pictures drawn by tiny hands. I thought to help you by sorting your things, to apologize in my own way, but ended up humbled beyond my wildest imaginings. They were your payments, weren’t they, Luna?”

“Yes, but…” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “None of them remember me.”

“I know, little moon. Which is why, finally, I am so sorry.” He wiped them away. “You are not rash or reckless. You are not a fool. You are not stubborn. You are fierce and determined. Wiser than all of us. You see those who are hurting and you pull them from their wreckage without a thought for anything else. Without fear. You give all of yourself and ask for nothing in return. Not even a memory.”

Illamiata flared when he brushed his fingers over its cut surface, catching on the scars that now held it. “That is your greatest power, not this,” he rasped, so much wonder on his face when he looked up at her again, “and I will spend the rest of my life in awe that I am the one the Sisters chose to adore you. To worship and learn from you. To love you.”

Brand sank his hand into her hair. “Burning Solyrian, how I love you, Lunara. How I love the way that you love. I will never stop working to deserve that blessing.”

Something shifted inside, hearing those words from him. A freedom, of sorts, as if shackles fell away that she hadn’t known were there. Silly, really, when she already knew it. When those three words were the simplest, most common way to communicate such a profound feeling, and he’d made a habit of telling her far more poetically.

“We have been equally blessed, Brand. Never doubt it. You are just as worthy of those things, and my awe is just as boundless.”

“That’s the strangest part.” His nose bumped against hers, running up and down. “I finally understand that, and believe it. I actually believe it.”

They both huffed a laugh, too much joy lobbing back and forth to help it.

“Are you done groveling now?” she asked.

“Done?” He hiked her up a little higher again, wrapping her legs around his waist. “I haven’t even started yet.”

Lunara melted into him. “Oh my stars…”

“Mmm, we should have five hundred more minutes at least. I plan to—” Brand finally looked around, brows punching up as he turned them in place. “Where in the bloody realms are we?”

They were in the middle of what she supposed was her sitting room, the fireplace crackling away beside them, the light hitting the planes of his face like Solyrian on Straelon’s mountainsides. Crowned in rugged black and rusted flames, as Endellion once described him.

The plushest rug in all the world laid beneath his feet, an intricate pattern in its black and jewel silk that she’d traced more than once to occupy her mind. So much furniture surrounded them that everyone they knew could lounge in their own seat and there’d still be room left over. Lunara hadn’t even sat on all of them herself yet.

Absurd. The whole place was excessive in the extreme. Gorgeous, comfortable, ridiculous excess.

“The Keeper’s Quarters.” She dropped her head to his shoulder and groaned, flopping her arms out. “My quarters. Welcome to my parlor.”

“You don’t like it?”