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Ah. Delicious.

Time to pivot backwards and disorient her further.

“I wonder…” Arms crossed, he started pacing. “We might be able to find a way to manipulate this situation in our favor.”

He laid out his ideas, pretending the thoughts were new. Gave her just enough of the plans he knew about so she could wreak her havoc without affecting his own movements, hoping all the while she’d see her way towards taking care of the problem that was bad for both of them.

Better she do it, so he didn’t have to find the time to do it himself. He’d rather focus on more important matters, like finally learning the fucking key to the Secret of Secrets, and stopping her from poisoning the Bore and rendering his entire life’s work useless.

Or figuring out how to turn Nyri to his side.

“What is that look on your face?” she hissed, snatching him from reverie. “Why do you seem pleased?”

Night take him. His growing obsession with the young Demon was laying waste to his already limited restraint.

“We are so close. I am merely imagining our success and picturing the possibilities.” The lie slipped off his tongue but it was lacking the usual satisfaction, his voice tight.

She knew it, too, the cunt. He saw it in her pale, calculating eyes.

Which was why he was genuinely surprised when she said, “Your insight is much appreciated. I have grown rather singleminded in my desperation, and it has apparently clouded my judgement. The sickness and suffering…”

There was no way those tears were real. Not in front of him.

What the fuck was she up to?

“I know, mistress. I’m sorry for it.” He pressed a hand over his heart. “I hope this has gone some way towards easing you.”

“It has, thank you.” She stood, her shadows writhing like a stormy sea. “We both have much to do. I will inform you of my decisions and plans, so you may play your part accordingly. Now get the fuck out.”

Another bow, another hidden smile. “Of course.”

She was gone before the words were out of his mouth, leaving him there alone—something she’d never once done.

Perfect. It worked.

He was just leaping into the ether again when white-hot pain lanced through his side, the soft flesh between rib and abdomen burning. He landed with a grunt in his hidden dungeon and looked down to find a seeping wound there, shimmering green magic at its edges.

Fucking fuck.

That daft, misbehaving, contrary bastard had gotten injured again.

He was going to skin him alive someday. The fucking second their fates were no longer bound together.

“My parents are not going to appreciate this.”

Lunara fought the urge to roll her eyes at Araxis. “I didn’t ask your opinion. I’ve come to fetch you, and that’s it.”

A day straight out of her nightmares, logistics and meetings and details being discussed while they all sat around. Her skin had been crawling for hours, her feet begging to move, and it was just her luck that the first thing she did with her freedom was deal with this arsehole.

Then again, she got to live the rest of her life recalling the image of his scandalized face the moment she popped up in his favorite hiding spot—one he no doubt assumed was secret.

She spent quite a few days acquainting herself with the inner workings of Starkeep and the Elder Halls while Brand was at her cottage, following the Evesong’s Imperial Son from her hiding place in the ether. It started as a way to be a better leader, but she made the odd fascinating discovery here and there.

For all his brothers never knew where to find him, it turned out that Araxis was a creature of habit. His mistake was not realizing that Lunara paid attention when he wasn’t looking. Every night at the same time, he went for a drink in a quiet parlor in the Halls’ furthest reaches, where he proceeded to stare, and flop, and loose long, put-upon sighs until his glass was empty. Then he’d take the last swig of the dregs, toss his cup to the ether, and disappear.

The problem was that he misted as well, and she hadn’t figured out how to follow him yet. She was lucky to have caught him here tonight before he left.

Now, they stared one another down in a room was only large enough for the couple of settees and a spirit cart off to one side, all set up to face the wall-to-wall windows looking down over Starkeep. Even for a realm of endless night, the space was dark and forbidding, reflecting the mood of the Evesong’s obviously aggravated Son to perfection.