Landing in a clearing just outside the city, I fight with my frame, forcing the transition to fae. It’s getting harder and harder. Brushing the thought aside, I aerstep to my suite in the Velmaran castle. The cold white tile on my bare feet cools the blood pulsing through my veins, and I drop to the ground and press my face against the floor.

After a few moments, I channel aether into a gentle and cooling breeze, allowing its magic to stabilize my pulsing skin. With a deep breath, I finally feel more fae than beast. I take one more inhale before standing and stalking to my study. A new letter sits in the basket reserved for incoming correspondence. Recognizing the seal, I open it swiftly, eyes hungrily taking in the update from my Thayarian contact.

Your Majesty,

Things are still progressing according to your plans here in Thayaria, though slower than we had both hoped. Laurel and Thorne have finally discovered the mating bond; however, based on their scents, one or both have not yet accepted it. I also don’t believe they have been joined, and the research you provided me explained this conjugal step is critical in strengthening the bond and subsequent magical alterations. They have not announced the mate bond broadly, though whispers run wild through the Council of Advisors about how close they have become.

I know you have been hesitant to loop me into your plans with the Thayarian rebels, but I fear they will become a hindrance soon. I urge you to inform me of your intentions so that I can properly guide their strategy and direct the Council in ways that will help them, and you, achieve the right ends.

I will write again as soon as I have significant updates to share, as you know as well as I that these letters are dangerous and challenging to get out of Thayaria and into your hands alone.

Sincerely,

Your Faithful Ally

Rage rises within me, risking losing control of my fae form again. I crumple up the paper in my fury and toss it into the fireplace. That stupid boy can’t even get his own mate to accept him. What an imbecile.

But I’ve been patient, waiting centuries to enact my plans. I can wait another few months.

Sitting at my desk, I read through the remaining correspondence. An update from the Head Librarian of the archives tells me Nemesia has taken the bait. I pen a letter to her, an invitation to another dinner, loathe as I am to spend more time with the churlish female. I need to make sure she’s finding what I want her to find in those books, and nothing more. The Head Librarian also mentioned a budding romance between Nemesia and one of the younger librarians that could prove useful.