Instead of answering, Azelon removed his tunic, revealing the full extent of his markings—beautiful patterns that flowed across his chest and down his arms, pulsing with inner light.
"Among my people, there is a ritual," he began, his fingers trailing just above the water's surface. "When a Tideborn makes a life-decision that affects their lineage, they must inform the Council."
Understanding dawned on Corin. "You're contacting them? Now?"
Azelon nodded. "I've put this off too long."
"And you won't any longer?"
"I've made my choice." Azelon met his gaze steadily. "No matter what changes might come in Council policy, no matterwhat amends I might make. This severs my connection to the Tideborn forever."
Corin's heart slammed against his ribs. "And you're sure? About us? About this bond?"
Azelon's expression softened. "I knew this had to be done from the day I pulled you from the drowning dreamscape," he admitted. "I just couldn't accept it."
"Why not?"
"Because choosing you—and now Jamie—means betraying everything I was raised to believe." Azelon gazed into the water. "That bonds between Tideborn and outsiders corrupt our magic. That our bloodlines must remain pure." He shook his head. "Even after they exiled me, I held onto the hope that someday..."
The unfinished sentence hung between them.
"You could have gone back," Corin said softly. "If you'd left me. Taken a Tideborn mate instead."
"Yes."
"But now you don't want that anymore."
Azelon turned to him. He touched Corin's cheek, a gesture so tender it made Corin's breath catch. "I have everything I want right here."
Corin's heart skipped several beats as Azelon's gaze lingered on him and he felt the truth in his words. The Tideborn was happy.Happy to be with Corin.
How did Corin get to be so lucky?
"I'm going to send my final message," Azelon said, facing the pool again. "I wanted you to witness it."
He placed both hands into the water, which immediately began to glow more intensely. His markings responded, light flowing down his arms and into the pool, creating patterns that shifted and reformed beneath the surface.
Azelon spoke an incantation in a foreign language, words flowing like water. Corin couldn't understand them, but their meaning was clear from the emotions flowing through their bond, grief, certainty, hope… determination
The water swirled faster, forming a vortex at the center of the pool. Light coalesced there, brightening until Corin had to shield his eyes.
When the brightness subsided, a face had formed in the water—blue-skinned like Azelon, but older, much older.
"Azelon," the watery figure said. "We did not expect to hear from you again."
"Elder Lysian," Azelon replied, his own voice formal. "I come to make a declaration."
The figure's expression remained impassive, but something like sadness flickered in its eyes. "You have found your path, then?"
"I have." Azelon's back straightened, pride evident in his posture. "I have taken non-Tideborn mates. The bond is formed and cannot be broken."
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the gentle lapping of water against the pool's edge.
"You understand what this means," the elder finally said. Not a question.
"I do." Azelon's gaze never wavered. "I renounce my claim to Tideborn lineage. I will not return."
The elder's gaze shifted, focusing on Corin for the first time. "Is this one of them?"
