Page 27

Lyriat tracked Lunara’s furious pacing from his seat on the Dominion of Demons, the throne seeming to sense the unease in the room as it thrummed beneath him. Early morning light fell into the Great Hall through the floor-to-ceiling windows, landing on everything in its glorious, golden way. The rays bent and bowed, following her, and Lyriat wondered if he was truly the only one who noticed. Who saw the way Solyrian loved her, as if she was truly Demon beneath the outward Sorcerit features.

A pang shot through his sternum. Of course he wasn’t the only one.

Brand probably saw it months ago.

“This is absurd,” she finally hissed, glaring daggers at the youngest Imperial Son. “You cannot be serious.”

“Deadly serious,” Araxis answered her, mostly convincing in his feigned boredom. “The Council wishes to⁠—”

“Has everyone in Bordoroth lost their stars-damned mind?” Lunara shrieked, the Tear Stone pulsing in her chest. “I’ve been conscious for less than a day. Brand is still lost. And yet, I’ve already found myself in a field losing bets and being summoned as Her Highness. Now, you want me to skip off to Nachthelliae with you because the Elder Council wishes it? I should be in my bleeding bed with my mate!”

A muscle ticked in Araxis’s jaw. “Our Occurrence is soon, and tensions are high. Is it really so hard to believe they wish to lay eyes on their Keeper after decades of uncertainty, and ensure that Illamiata, our most precious artifact, is well within her?”

Lunara spun on him with the Sisters’ own fury swirling in her eyes. “Oh, I believe it. I’m just struggling to accept that anyone is soulless enough to make such a vile request under these circumstances. I shouldn’t be surprised, though.” She laughed, a bitter huff as power crackled around her. “You and the Council never were very good at anything even remotely resembling decency.”

Araxis blinked rapidly—not quite an admission of any guilt, but Lyriat noted the almost imperceptible jolt of his head and sudden tightness in his shoulders. The way his gaze darted away from her for a split second.

Fascinating.

“Please,” Vann interjected, his deep voice a tranquil rumble. The Second Imperial Son placed himself between the two most powerful Sorcerit in the world with raised hands. “There must be a better way to go about this. We are family.”

“Family wouldn’t ask this of me,” Lunara spat. “I realize it’s been a while since I had my own, and I’m new to this one, but my memory is not so polluted by time that I don’t remember what it’s supposed to be like.”

It was Vann’s turn to look as though he’d been struck. He opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t finished.

“Then again, perhaps this is all a misunderstanding.” The swirling in her eyes multiplied, silver morphing into a glowing white, the sneer on her lips so full of rage that it stole Lyriat’s breath away. “Perhaps Araxis has simply forgotten what the Council—what he—did to me and my parents. It would explain the callousness with which he’s chosen to do their bidding, despite the fact that we are family. Despite knowing, firsthand, what this actually means to me.”

Araxis tightened his fists, the opalescent flecks in his skin seeming to vibrate. “Believe me, I am well aware of what this means to you. Or did you forget that I was there the night you tried to throw yourself from Argoph after finding out who and what you are, Blessed Keeper?”

All the light in her died, Lunara’s power winking out in an instant as she shrank, her lids fluttering closed. “Don’t call me that.”

Lyriat loathed the loss of his friend’s fire. She’d come to them timid, voice subdued and hands wringing. Terrified. Hurting. And burning Solyrian, he understood the wound she carried infinitely more than he would like to, his own parents wrenched from him too soon.

But he’d seen something else there, too. Had recognized her as kindred when she fell to her knees in a pool of Baldrir’s blood without a care, no talk of deals or payments before laying healing hands on his ravaged body. And he’d trusted her the second she refused to share the more sordid details of his cousin’s torture, regardless of the fact that a king was asking.

That particular kind of strength was rare, and she’d made such strides since then. To witness Araxis reducing Lunara to her former self with a few cruel words was⁠—

“Too far,” Hedda whispered at his shoulder, reading his thoughts.

It was a good thing Faldir immediately went up to keep Magnus company at Brand’s side. Hedda’s tone said she was about to start swinging, and the last thing he needed was the twins feeding off one another’s temper and complicating things.

“Agreed.” But Lyriat wasn’t ready to interject yet.

“I am both duty and honor bound to show you the respect of your position. For all you do not want it”—Araxis took a step towards Lunara and she flinched—“you must still accept it.”

Lyriat sat forward, silently daring Lunara to seize her true authority.

She did not disappoint.

Lunara went utterly serene, the change jarring. Not quite natural. When she turned her attention on Araxis again, the youngest Imperial Son blanched and Lyriat didn’t bother hiding his smirk.

She raised her hands, palms up, raw power leaping from Illamiata to dance on her fingertips. Over her skin. Through her hair. When she spoke, her voice wasn’t of this world. So soft, but it carried through the room like a crack of thunder.

“I accepted my fate the day I broke into the Elder Halls and claimed Illamiata from her shimmering velvet perch in the clouds. The day I claimed myself. I know better than anyone what I fucking am.”

A flick of the wrist and Lunara’s magic receded, wholly under her command. She advanced on Araxis, chest heaving, and her voice jumped in volume with her anger. “What I do not accept is you coming here on behalf of the Elder Council to present this request before I’ve even had a chance to assess Brand in the daylight, outside of a blind panic. Before I’ve eaten a proper meal, or washed my hair, or found my own clothes. Before I’ve had a moment alone to process the many ways your brother and I have nearly died in the last month. Did you willfully abandon all your kindness and compassion, O Blessed Nightmare of the Endless Dark, or are you just so fucking dense that you truly think this is normal?”

With every word, every biting lash of her tongue, Lunara rode a swelling wave of her power upwards, until she was hovering just above the much taller Araxis.