The mug slips from my suddenly numb fingers. Dad catches it with a quick spell before it can shatter.
“I don’t want the Elder position if it means losing you,” Marcus says. “Everything I am, everything I could be – none of it matters without you beside me.”
“Marcus…” My voice cracks.
“He means it, sweetheart.” Dad’s voice startles me. I’d almost forgotten we had an audience. “He came to ask my permission first.”
I whip around to stare at my father. “He what?”
Mom’s eyes are suspiciously bright. “Your father and I have seen how you two look at each other. How you fight for each other. That’s not magic – that’s love.”
Gran nods, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Sometimes the truest magic isn’t in our spells at all, but in our hearts.”
I turn back to Marcus, overwhelmed by the emotion pouring from him.
“I don’t care about status or power,” he says softly. “I care about you. About us. Whatever comes next, I want to face it with you.”
“I…I…I don’t understand,” I say stupidly, although understanding is beginning to sink in.
“I want you to be my bride, Kara. If I’m going to take on this role, I want you standing at my side.”
“Wh-what?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Kara!” Poppy is exasperated. “Does he have to spell it out for you?”
“He wants you to marry him, hon.” Mia’s voice is gentler.
My head is spinning so fast I feel dizzy. Marcus is standing right in front of me with a look of anxious expectation. And I… I don’t know what to say right now.
I stare at Marcus, my pulse pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. Everyone’s waiting for my answer, their eyes fixed on me with varying degrees of expectation and concern. My doubts surge forward, threatening to overwhelm the warmth I feel whenever I look at him.
“How can I be sure this is real?” I ask hoarsely. “That it’s not just the blood match forcing these feelings?” The question has been haunting me since I first realized how deeply I care for him, and now, faced with this moment, I need to know.
Gran steps forward, her silvery hair catching the fairy lights. “Oh, my dear girl. There is no blood match.”
“What?” Marcus and I speak in unison.
“You’re not blood-bound.” Gran smiles.
“But if I have the Bloodbane…” Marcus trails off.
“You don’t have the Bloodbane, either.” Gran shrugs.
“I don’t?” His eyes are wide. He runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck. Iknewit! It just didn’t add up.”
“But the connection, the shared thoughts, the…” I trail off, confused.
“That’s not the blood match, dear. That’s something far more powerful.” Gran’s eyes twinkle. “What you’re experiencing is true love in its purest form.”
I shake my head. “That’s impossible. We barely know each other. How could—?”
“Have you never heard of love at first sight?” Gran asks, her voice gentle. “Some souls recognize each other instantly. In your case, the magic merely amplifies what’s already there. It’s how your minds connected.”
“But Marcus needed my blood to heal,” I protest. “After Lucien—”
“Any witch’s blood would have worked,” Gran explains. “What you two share isn’t born from magic or curses – it’s simply love. Pure love.”
I look at Marcus, feeling the truth of her words resonating through our bond. All this time, I’d been attributing our feelings to sorcery, to some curse, when really…
