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“I swear upon every wretched eternity,” he whispered, the sound vibrating against her touch, “I’m going to devour you the second I’m released from this prison, little Luna.”

Lunara lifted her eyes to Brand’s, shoving against a visceral wave of unease. It was impossible to tell for sure, the late afternoon already hurtling towards twilight, but she swore a vein of shadow snapped back into hiding as their gazes met.

“What made you call me that?”

His lip trembled. “It wasn’t right, was it?”

“No.”

“Forgive me. There are pieces, and I thought…” He stepped back, robbing her of the feel of him. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Brand, wait. Don’t do this. Don’t shut me out.”

“We should probably head in before they send out a search⁠—”

“Witchling! Where are you, lass? Brand!”

Mag’s bellows floated in on the breeze, other garbled shouts echoing farther away.

Brand scoffed. “Of course.”

Magnus appeared around a bend in the rock wall a second later, his chuckle rife with nerves. “Ach, finally. You had us worried for a minute.” He cupped his mouth. “Found them!”

Go on. Turn him into a worm.

Tempting.

“We’re fine,” she snapped. “It hasn’t even been an hour, yet.”

Magnus gave her a strange look, mouth opening like he had something to say, but Brand got there first.

“Yes, as you can see,” Brand said, “I managed to refrain from murdering the witchling.”

Shitting stars, a more bitter word had never been spoken. And it was so wrong coming from him.

That might explain some things.

Perhaps, but Lunara was too busy choking on the sudden tension, on the muddled state of her mind, to work any of it out.

“I don’t know what that tone is for, lad,” Magnus murmured, “but your temper is misplaced.”

“Hmm.” Brand pushed by him, leaving the outcropping without so much as a glance or goodbye.

“What the fuck was that?”

Lunara shrank in on herself. “I truly wish I knew.”

Their trek back to the portal in the Main Square was strained at best. Up ahead, Hedda and Faldir were laying into Brand, their gesticulations sharp. Agitated. Fern was no better, hissing in her ear between Magnus’s placations.

“Enough,” Lunara snapped, interrupting Fern’s tirade. “We’re fine and fully grown. He just wanted a bleeding moment alone to breathe, so I gave it to him.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Fern’s sardonic tone was entirely unnecessary. “I didn’t realize all the time he spent alone this morning wasn’t enough. And last I checked, two and a half hours is way fucking longer than a moment.”

“What did you just say?”

“What I tried to, earlier,” Mag said, his tone gentle. “You were gone for more than two hours.”

“No, the first part. What do you mean about this morning, Fern?”