“How could you?” I snarl, and he gives me a pitying and regretful look that only angers me further.

“It was the only way,” Admon says with the same gentleness he’s always shown, though his eyes are sad and resigned. My ears ring with fury and my vision swims. How could he, after everything we’ve been through, everything he’s seen me endure?

“Yes, yes, it’s the only path, you’ve consulted the stars. No one cares, Admon. Tell her what you know about mating bonds. What you failed to tell her before,” Mazus hisses, though it comes out gleeful. Admon’s eyes continue to express deep regret, but I don’t care. He will pay for this. I hurl a dagger of light toward Admon, but Mazus disintegrates it before it reaches him, a power he shouldn’t have. “Tell her,” Mazus commands with the aether-voice, the words reverberating through the room.

Somehow, Admon remains standing while everyone else in the room but me and Thorne drop to their knees. When he speaks, his words quiet and scholarly, it’s like we’re back on the moors and he’s explaining a concept about the aether to me.

“When mates bond, they typically influence one another’s power in some way. Sometimes they each gain each other’s conduit affinities, sometimes they just both grow stronger. But there are certain mating bonds that are part of the very fabric of our world, blessed by the aether or by some long-lost gods. When those bonds form, one mate accesses a deeper well of power than before, while the other mate acts as an anchor to protect them from losing their mind. It’s a magical insanity, of sorts—it’s complicated.” Finally, Admon looks flustered, like he doesn’t know how to explain. But his words horrify me. What they imply… Finally, with a swallow, Admon continues. “Their blood—the mates’ blood—can create frighteningly powerful spells.” Admon finishes his speech tentatively, as if he’s not sure he got it right. He looks to Mazus, who only cackles.

The shimmering blood. Memory slams into me as I recall the way Thorne’s blood had shimmered after he’d been injured, while I was healing him. My mind is reeling, and there’s a lot to process right now. Pieces are clicking together even while new questions form. Mazus breaks me out of my spiraling with his grating tenor.