“That much is obvious, witchling,” he coos, and for once the nickname makes me wince, too close to the truth. I take a deep, steadying breath, letting Thorne’s scent wrap around me and provide the comfort I need to continue, even if he may not be here when I’m done telling him.

“Channelers need a conduit for the aether. Water, plants, air, metal. Light. When a fae performs magic without the use of one of those conduits, we classify it as witchcraft. Spells fueled by the aether in blood,” I explain. He nods with a look of confusion. He knows all of this already. I’m stalling. “I’m no blood mage, Thorne. I swear that to you.” My lips tremble, and I look to the sky, seeking anywhere to look but his eyes. “But my magic is just as perverse. I don’t need a conduit. Whatever I will, whatever I desire, can simply happen, as long as aether is present. I try to limit my magic in front of others and only perform what could be done through conduits, but sometimes I slip. Like the poofing trick you’ve seen so many times. If I wanted to, I could stop the heart of every magical creature around me with a single thought, could freeze their limbs so they can’t move. I could will the aether that creates the world to simply cease.” I try to huff out a laugh, but the noise is hollow. “If witchcraft is practicing magic without a conduit, then I am indeed the witch your father has made me out to be. My magic is vile and perverse. Corrupt. At least blood mages need blood to perform magic. At least they have boundaries around what they can perform. I have no such limits. I’m an abomination.” The words shudder out of me for the first time in my entire life, my deepest secret and most honest truth, and I brace myself for his rejection.

Thorne stands and walks to the edge of the balcony, bringing me with him. He scoops me into his arms, then leaps off the second story to the ground below, using his fae strength to soften the landing. I yelp, and he chuckles, but says nothing. Murky confusion makes my thoughts slow. Is he going to take me somewhere to kill me, rid the world of my vile magic? The voice that sounds like my parent’s whispers that this is what they always warned me about. If you tell anyone about your power, they’ll kill you, Laurel. You must keep it a secret, always.