Taking pity on him, I say, “I can have servants come in and redecorate.” He shrugs, like he doesn’t care either way. Remembering Carex, I sigh. “Should we go take care of the Carex situation?” Fionn looks sheepish.

“Sorry, queenie,” Fionn says with a smirk. “In my defense, he attacked first. And Thorne was in pretty bad shape. We needed to get him to you as quickly as possible.” Thorne blushes, and I find that I like the look of him squirming.

“I wasn’t in pretty bad shape. I was just a little worried,” Thorne grumbles.

“A little?” Silene teases. “You almost attacked Fionn, and you growled at us no less than three times.”

Thorne pulls at the collar of his tunic. “It was a very confusing situation. Emotions were running high.”

“They were,” I say, an apology in my gaze. He meets my stare, accepting the offering and understanding my silent words. I’m sorry for leaving.

“I’m going to hurl if you two keep staring at each other like that,” Fionn murmurs. “Go take care of Carex.” We both smile. As I take his hand in mine, I’m struck with a deep urge to never let go.

Laurel

It’s remarkable how little we understand about the aether and the rivers of magical current that circle our world. Despite millennia of research, its mysteries still baffle our best scholars.

The Unabridged History of Magical Orders, Volume I

Carex is still unconscious, slumped against a chair, when we arrive in my rooms. Lunaria sits across the room from him, eyes homed in a predatory gaze and body tensed as if she’s ready to pounce. But when she sees Thorne, she stretches lazily, then rubs against his legs until he scratches her head. My mouth drops open in shock.

“What?” he says, noticing my dumbfounded look. “She likes me. She even visited me once before. And then tonight she showed up and helped us figure out how to find you.” Something light and airy fills my chest.

“Lunaria has never tolerated anyone other than me,” I explain. “The only other person she’s allowed close to her is Nemesia, and they still kept out of each other’s way most of the time.”

“I’m your mate,” he says with a low, sensual growl, and the word sends flutters to my stomach. “Maybe she senses that somehow.”

I only nod, determined not to give in to the desire burning through me when my ex-lover is lying unconscious at my feet. Taking a bottle of strong liquor from the bar, I unstopper it and hold it under his nose. He jumps back into consciousness, eyes confused and searching.