The observation hits harder than it should. "You don't know me."
"Don't I?" He tilts his head slightly. "You're afraid of your own power. Afraid of hurting the people you love. You'd rather run than risk being the thing that destroys their happiness."
Heat crawls up my neck. "Stop."
"You want to know why I care?" His voice drops, becomes something rougher. "Because if you're real—if you're what I think you are—theneverything changes. The Council, the balance of power, the way magic itself works in this realm."
"What if I don't want it?" The words tear out of me, raw and desperate. "What if I just want to be normal? To have a normal life with normal problems?"
"That won't stop it."
The certainty in his voice makes my stomach drop. "Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Learn what you are before someone else decides for you."
The mist stirs around my ankles, responding to the spike of anxiety in my chest. Thane's gaze tracks its movement, and something in his expression shifts. Becomes almost... hungry.
"They'll come for you," he says quietly. "Others like me. Others worse than me. And they won't care what you want or don't want. They'll see power, and they'll try to take it."
"And you?" I meet his eyes, needing to understand. "What do you see?"
He's quiet for a long moment, silver gaze searching my face. When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.
"I see someone who could change everything. And someone who's terrified of that responsibility."
The sigil pulses once more, bright enough to cast shadows, then fades back to ordinary wood. Like whatever magic called it forth has decided we've said enough for now.
I should go. Should put distance between myself and this conversation that feels too big, too heavy. Should hide in my room and pretend none of this is real.
Instead, I find myself asking, "Have you ever wanted something you knew would destroy you?"
The question catches him off guard. For just a moment, his careful mask slips, and I see something raw underneath. Something that looks almost... vulnerable.
"Every day," he admits.
The honesty in his voice does something to my chest. Makes the space between us feel charged with more than just magic. Like we're circling around truths neither of us is ready to speak.
"Then I guess I'd better figure out what I am," I say finally, "before someone else does."
I turn to go, needing distance before I say something I can't take back. But I only make it a few steps before the air behind me stirs.
I glance back.
Silver mist curls around Thane’s boots—slow and quiet, like fog rolling in on instinct. It brushes the hem of his coat, lingers there a beat too long.
He doesn’t move.
His eyes widen—just barely—but I see it. A flicker of something raw behind all that control. Like he felt it too.
I frown, chest tight.
The Ether isn’t supposed to do that. Not with anyone else.
So why does it look like it’s reaching for him?
The mist pulls back slowly, reluctantly, and drifts toward me like nothing happened. But I catch the way Thane's breath catches, the way his hands clench at his sides.
And just before I disappear into my room, I hear him whisper something that makes my heart stutter.
