Page 5

“Oh, I see,” she murmured. “Interesting. I know well your outward devotion, but I didn’t quite expect this inner ache to run so deep. Our moth is most fortunate. How lovely.”

He had absolutely no idea what that meant.

Brand choked back the response trying to claw its way past his lips. A near thing. Until he was sure this wasn’t another of Okthana’s tricks, he needed to stay silent. Stoic. Unbreakable. He refused to give anything away to his deranged captor.

“It’s really not,” the creature said, head tilting back as she reached him. “A trick, I mean. Though I understand why you might think so.”

Her gaze speared straight through to his soul, whole galaxies erupting and dying in the violet depths. He couldn’t fucking breathe under the weight of it.

Not until she blinked and set him free.

“This is a particularly gorgeous cage you’ve made for yourself. Much like the cove in Straelon, yes? I’ve always wanted to visit.”

Brand bristled at that, his fists clenching. He hadn’t made a damned thing, least of all a cage. Sure, this sorry excuse for the Montrealm’s most stunning and secluded beach was clearly housing his mind, his self, but he hadn’t chosen it. And he had absolutely no idea why the fuck he couldn’t get out.

“Oh, that’s right. We’ll get to that,” she said. “I hope.”

All that colossal power dimmed to a soft glow as she plopped down and stretched her long legs out with a sigh. “First, you must understand that there are nearly infinite ways this conversation could go, but only one where you refuse to speak and all still ends well. So, let’s make a deal, shall we? You help me bypass much of the nonsense by uttering a single word, and I swear to deliver news of your most precious mate.”

Brand lunged for the creature without a thought, his rage burning like wildfire at the casual mention of his little moon. His Luna.

Except his fist passed uselessly through her, her particles dancing like meadow mist across his fingertips. Brand nearly screamed.

“Naughty Demon,” she chided. “We don’t have time—” Her eyes went blank for an unbearable moment before snapping to his with renewed fire. “Wonderful. There goes that single one. I’m trying to help, you know. I thought we were friends.”

Brand recoiled at that. Her hurt seemed genuine, but he absolutely did not know this creature. Shite, he wasn’t even sure she was real.

“Oh. Oh.” Another laugh, the bubbly sound somewhere between absolute madness and the saddest thing he ever heard. “Of course. Forgive me. I got so excited to speak to someone without the riddles that I slipped and forgot when we are.”

Something tickled deep in the recesses of himself, and the creature grinned—an almost bloodthirsty look that set him on edge. He grimaced back and took to pacing, needing an outlet for the helplessness crawling beneath his skin.

“I am called Endellion, though you know me by other names.” She held a finger in front of her lips with a shh. “I can tell you that because it won’t matter by the time you remember this conversation. If you remember, that is. It’s entirely up to you. Well, not you. That task will fall on the Lesser. Yours is…arguably more difficult.”

What little patience Brand had was evaporating. His desire to learn of Luna warred with his need to say silent, his very being torn in two. One word and he could hear of his little moon? It was the only thing he wanted.

Last he saw her, she was being skewered by Okthana’s dark power, her bones hanging loose from their joints while he lay impotent on the ground. The distant cries that tortured him since, the ache in his soul, were hers. So, she was alive, at the very least. He knew that as surely as Solyrian rose each morning. But he still longed to hear how she fared. That she was doing well enough, despite his failure to protect her.

Okthana would know that, though. In fact, it was odd she hadn’t already tried to use it against him. To leverage it in return for doing what she wanted, or breaking the silence he’d managed to keep since their single conversation following his capture.

Damn it, Brand didn’t know what to do.

“Yes, you do. You made a promise, remember?” Just like that, Endellion paled, swaying. She slumped back as if she couldn’t help it and folded her hands together, thumbs twiddling while she stared into the sky. “No one in this world is above her now—your words to her, in the very cave you’ve been imprisoned. On the Sisters, you swore it.”

Brand froze, something akin to nausea swirling through his consciousness.

“It’s time for you to keep your word with a word, Demon. Unless you’d prefer everyone you love experiencing horrors beyond anything you could possibly imagine before suffering unspeakable deaths...?” Her violet gaze slid over to meet his. “Except you won’t have to imagine it because the agony will be dealt by your own cursed hand.”

He stared at her, both of them unblinking in their battle of wills.

Brand broke first, the risk too great in the end. “Why should I trust you?”

“Ah.” Her lids fluttered closed. “Thank the essence for that. As promised, the Moonweaver lives and is once more in good health.” When she looked at him again, her pupils were blown. “For now. And there’s nothing you could’ve done to stop what needed to happen, so release your guilt.”

“What the bloody fuck do you mean for now?” he seethed. “Who are you, really?”

“Exactly what and who I said. I’m here for a reason, after all. And, uh, this is a particularly gorgeous cage I’m about to make for your self. Sort of. It’s complicated. My apologies.”

“That you…” Brand’s pulse roared in his ears, his next words hissed through clenched teeth. “Whatever you are, let me out. Now.”