"I know."
"She would say you're undermining centuries of tradition. Weakening the foundations of mage-familiar bonds. Setting dangerous precedents."
"Probably."
He's quiet for a moment. Then, grudgingly: "She would also be wrong."
Before I can respond, he's gone, striding into the night with Talon ruffling his feathers against the cold. Part oe me wonders what the bird looks like in human form.
I stare after him, speechless.
"That might be the closest thing to approval Magnus has ever given anyone," Cadeon observes from behind me.
"Did he just admit my grandmother was wrong about something?"
"It appears so. Shall I document the occasion for posterity?"
I laugh, but it comes out shaky. The cottage is empty now, quiet except for the crackle of dying fires. Candles still float near the ceiling, casting soft shadows. The detritus of the feast covers the table.
And the clock on the mantle reads eleven forty-five.
Fifteen minutes until midnight.
Fifteen minutes until the bond transforms or breaks.
Cadeon closes the door and turns to face me. He looks calm. Settled. Ready.
I feel like I'm going to vibrate out of my skin.
"The dishes—" I start.
"Can wait."
"The candles need to be?—"
"They're fine."
"I should check the?—"
"Iris." He crosses to me, takes my hands in his. "Stop."
"I can't." The words tumble out, frantic. "I don't know how to stop. I don't know how to just stand here and wait for everythingto change. I need to do something, fix something, control something?—"
"I know." His voice is gentle. "That's exactly the problem, isn't it?"
I stare at him, my heart pounding.
"You've been taking care of everyone else for so long," he says quietly. "Taking care of me. Managing everything, controlling everything, being strong for everyone. And now the magic is asking you to let go."
"What if I can't?"
"Then we'll figure it out together." He squeezes my hands. "That's what partners do."
The clock chimes the quarter hour. Eleven forty-five becomes eleven forty-six.
Fourteen minutes.
"Come with me," Cadeon says, and leads me toward the sitting room, toward the fire, toward whatever comes next.
