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He tossed off his short trousers and crawled up from the foot of the bed, lips running along her spine on the way. She twitched in her sleep, writhing a little, and he wrapped an arm around to haul her back against him.

“Good morning,” he said in her ear. “Would you like to wake up?”

“Depends,” she grumbled, voice husky with sleep. “What do I get for it being so damned early?”

He traced a line down the back of her neck and shoulder. “You can have anything you desire.”

“I know that tone in your voice.” She shivered when he followed the path with his tongue. “You aren’t fooling anyone.”

“Can you blame me?” He gave in to his earlier thought and watched his fingers sink into her hip, her arse, loving the way she filled his large hand. “Fuck, look at you. So soft.” A nip at her nape. “Mmm. I want it.”

She giggled, the sound turning into a sigh when he reached down to run his cock through her gathering arousal. “Careful, Demon. That sounds an awful lot like begging.”

“Oh, little moon.” He flexed his hips, nudging at her molten entrance. “There’s no need to be careful when that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ll beg for the rest of my days if I have to, and you’ll be worth every damned second I spend on my knees.”

“I rather like where you are now,” she murmured, dragging his hand up to cup a heavy breast. “Think you can do it from there?”

“It would be my fucking privilege.”

Luna read his mind, arching back at the same time he thrust forward. A raw, desperate sound tore from him at being buried inside her perfection. Weeping shite. The utter relief was so overwhelming it stole his breath.

This was real. This was shelter and sanctuary. This was home.

“Always, Brand.”

He didn’t have a chance to ask how she knew. Luna shifted his grip so he was met with the steady beat of her heart beneath his palm, showing him through the bond—he was as much her home as she was his. Unreservedly. Irrevocably.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I am yours, and you are mine.”

It was like landing on solid ground after being tossed about by endless, angry waves, the last of the night’s burdens bleeding away. They were equals, in spite of all the rest. Two halves made whole in their joining, regardless of his damage, and Brand felt another nameless wound being stitched back together.

Her sheath clenched around his length as he withdrew and slid slowly back in. “I am yours, and you are mine.”

Another glorious day in the Montrealm, Solyrian shining full force into the Great Hall. Even the dust motes were dancing between the stone pillars and long tables, cheery in the face of their woes.

Brand envied them their sweet simplicity.

“Our priorities have changed,” Lyriat said, voice more gravelly than usual. Hoarse. “Should we choose to remain in Thodelebor, we are to focus our efforts wholly towards the welfare of our Wolflord allies, by Imperial Decree. All contingents tasked with the search for Baldrir and Nyriadne are to be disbanded or absorbed into those who are already fighting forthwith. Are there any who object?”

Considering it was only Brand and the twins he was really asking, and that the three of them were going regardless of all else because of Luna, it seemed a moot point.

“You know we don’t,” he said. “We have interests to protect outside of Bal and Nyri, if absolutely nothing else.”

Lyriat nodded once and gestured to a nearby servant. “A messenger will be dispatched ahead of you to make it so.”

Formal. Cold. Unfeeling. At least, that was how it would appear to an ignorant outsider.

Even in his usual position—elbow on the arm of his throne, fingers running back and forth under one side of his jaw—Lyriat wasn’t convincing any of those closest to him. This was, without a doubt, the most difficult thing his friend had ever faced, and it was clearly eating him alive.

It didn’t help that, for the first time in Brand’s memory, the Dominion of Demons seemed to swallow its king, looming over Lyriat instead of lending him its forbidden air. Worse yet, he still saw Gaulnir’s blood coating it. His body lifeless in it.

Brand swallowed and leaned over from his own seat. “We can settle this when we get back from Argoph, Lyriat. A couple of days, at most.”

He hoped.

“I want it settled now.” Lyriat pinned a burning look on Hedda and Faldir. “I will lead the First Legion myself in Brand’s place. The two of you are to relinquish your commands to the next superior warrior upon reaching the Westrealm, as you did during the chasm battle. Looking after Brand and Luna, and yourselves, is your only responsibility. Is that understood?”

The twins bowed in tandem. “Yes, Your Majesty.”