I still. The news should make me question Thorne immediately, should make me question the relationship we’ve slowly built these last months. And aethers, of course Mazus is a blood mage. It makes so much sense. But I’m surprised to find that the information doesn’t change anything about how I feel about Thorne. I trust him, implicitly, and I’m not exactly sure when that change occurred. I open my mouth to tell him that, but he continues on, words frantic, like he might lose me if he doesn’t get everything out.

“Please believe that very early on I realized you weren’t a blood mage. I think my desire to be close to you was never really about discovering more about your magic, though I used that as an excuse for myself initially. The moment I met you, I was desperate to see you again, to get to know you. And aethers Laurel, you seduced me. There was not a single moment that I was in control of my reaction to you.” His eyes are beseeching, and I decide to put him out of his misery.

“I believe you,” I say quietly, and he offers a slow and tentative smile, squeezing my hand tightly. “But let’s promise to each other now, no more secrets.” The words are a vow I don’t fully understand. Thorne nods somberly and reaches out his hand.

“No more secrets.” He shakes my hand, like we’re sealing a deal. Suddenly, the source of my magic—my aether-heart—grows hot and bright. I clutch my chest, gaze locked on Thorne’s concerned eyes. “Laurel,” he yells, wrapping me in his arms tightly before pushing my shoulders back slightly so he can examine my face. “What’s wrong?” Panic laces his voice, but I can only laugh. His brows furrow in confusion and fear, hands stilling on my shoulders.

“Thorne,” I whisper. “I think—I know—I just accepted you as my mate. I can feel you, in here.” I point to my chest. “My aether-heart is usually chaotic, but your presence is… soothing. It feels calm, like it’s wrapped in a soft, glowing blanket.” Thorne’s eyes brighten, and now tears build in his eyes.