Once I’m corporeal again, the desire to let go of the aether fills me, but I can’t break free of it. It continues to surge through me, unrestrained. My palms are sweaty, and I slip in and out of consciousness. Thorne’s words repeat through my mind. Live to fight another day, witchling. Live. With an otherworldly and determined roar, I find the tap on my magic and slam it shut, hurling every bit of aether that remains in my body at Mazus and his wall, before collapsing in a heap on the ground.

Despite knowing what’s inevitable, I look up at the invisible wall that shimmers with Mazus’s dark magic, hoping that it will drop. The barrier wavers for a moment, but holds, and I deflate.

Mazus laughs, a deranged sound that makes his eyes flash yellow again, as tears stream down my face. I leap up and run at the barrier, getting hurled back, but I don’t stop. I’m not ready to accept defeat, not ready to accept what I know is going to happen. I keep running at it over and over again, screaming, shrieking, while Mazus looks on with euphoria.

Eventually, Nemesia, Fionn, and Carex restrain me. It takes their combined strength to hold me back, and even then, I blast them away from me with a force of magic that flings them to opposite corners of the room. A quiet voice whispers that I should check if my friends are okay, but I ignore it, too consumed with terror at losing my mate. Thorne thrashes in his bindings, clearly using every bit of strength he possesses to free himself, despite the words he whispered to me when I was in his mind.

“I tire of this pitiful display of affection. We’re done here. Enjoy losing your mind,” Mazus jeers.

I panic, remembering just two nights ago, when Thorne had professed his love for me, and I hadn’t said it back, even though I knew I felt it. Even though my aether-heart had screamed at me to tell him, to let down that final wall to this brilliant, beautiful male, I had remained silent. And at the festival, I planned to give him that ring and tell him then, but my words had failed me. Just hours ago, I wanted to whisper it to him in the quiet moments we had after the battle with Krantz, but decided to wait until there was more time.

And now my time has run out.

Thorne peeled away the calloused exterior I’ve worn for so long—too long—revealing a joyful, confident, compassionate female beneath, and I was too cowardly to give him those final, all-important words. I collapse, grief and rage washing over me in equal measure. I’m sobbing now, a black hole, everything I am caving in. My eyes meet Thorne’s one last time.

“I love you,” I whisper.