“He touched her.”
The words were not loud.They did not need to be.
The entire clearing seemed to hear them.The mist itself paused.
Peri’s grip tightened.“Did he hurt her?”
Gerick’s head turned toward her sharply enough that his hair slid across his brow.
“No.”
She held his gaze, her own steady, refusing to let him look away.“Then breathe.”
“I can feel him.”
“Through the book,” Peri said firmly, giving his arm a small, almost violent shake.“Not through her bond.”
He knew that.He knew it.
But knowledge did nothing to stop the instinct inside him, the part of every male who loved beyond reason, from wanting to tear through the realms and rip Shade away from her with his bare hands.
Gerick’s magic surged again, rising up his forearms in slow, dark coils.
Then the moonlight changed.It did not brighten.It deepened.
The silver light settling over the clearing became softer, fuller, and impossibly present, the way air thickens before a storm without ever moving.The mist at the edge of the trees stilled, freezing mid-curl.Every draheim in the forest went quiet at once, a hush so complete that Gerick could suddenly hear his own heartbeat slowing in his ears.
Peri released his arm and stepped back, head already lowering.
Gerick knew before he turned.
The Great Luna stood between the trees, her white hair falling around her shoulders like moonlight given form.Her bare feet rested on a bed of moss that bent toward her without breaking.She wore no crown.She needed none.The power radiating from her did not demand that the clearing bow.
It simply reminded everything that it already belonged to her.
Gerick lowered his head, the motion as natural as breath.
“My lady.”
“General,” she said gently.
The gentleness nearly broke him.
Peri bowed as well, deeper than Gerick had ever seen her bow to anyone, though her mouth tightened in the way it did when emotion struck too close for comfort.
The Great Luna moved toward the stone where the Nushtonia rested.Her steps made no sound at all.The grass straightened in her wake.The book did not pulse.Did not shift.Did not breathe.
For the first time since Gerick had held it, the cursed thing looked afraid.
Good.He hoped it was.
The goddess looked down at the Nushtonia for a long moment before lifting her gaze to him.Her eyes were the silver of every moon he had ever stood beneath.
“You are hurting.”
Gerick’s jaw clenched.“That is not important.”
“Pain is always important to the one who created the heart feeling it.”
