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“I know.” Cerise was shaking her head. “But look at this.” She jabbed her finger on the page, pointing to the first paragraph. “Consent. Mutual. Neither of those two were used in Elvira’s situation. Not only did Gorem refuse to meet with her face-to-face, but the only Wolven magic Elvira had access to was Silas’s. And his magic was not given willingly.” Her expression soured, her gaze darkening. She closed her eyes a moment before continuing, “So, Gorem and Elvira were both doomed. Gorem couldn’t deactivate the portals here without her. And Elvira couldn’t remove the enchantment on the totem without him. Their hatred of each other’s species was their downfall.”

My brow furrowed as I noticed something written in the top corner of the page, the ink darker than Hans’s notes. Rogue blood will weaken the wards.

My heart stuttered in my chest as I looked at Cerise. “This is how more Rogues were getting into the fae lands. Gorem figured out how to break down those wards using Rogue blood.”

Cerise nodded. “And, through correspondence with Elvira, he likely figured out how to make certain elixirs that would exacerbate Rogue symptoms, creating more cases.”

“Moonfire juice,” I said thoughtfully, recalling how Dulsa had said that using large doses of it could worsen a Rogue’s condition. “Gorem couldn’t figure out how to disassemble the portal, so he increased the number of Rogues and let them into the fae lands, causing more strain between us and the fae. He probably thought that by starting a war, he would force the fae kingdom to tear down the portal on their end.”

“Exactly. And if Elvira managed to unbind the wolf totem, then there would be no way to pass through on this side, either.”

I heaved a sigh and glanced at the wolf totem resting on the table. “And now we can’t apply the spell to the other totems because Gorem is dead. Without Hans’s magic, it can’t be done.”

“I’m not sure if that’s true. The Marlowe bloodline had powerful magic, no doubt about it. But I believe what made Hans’s portal magic so unique wasn’t necessarily the strength behind it, but the addition of witch magic.”

I frowned at her. “How do you know so much about this?”

She flushed and smiled shyly. “I didn’t want to leave the room in case you woke up, and… I got a little bored. So I read through the book a few times.”

I grinned, lifting a hand to her cheek to run my thumb across that endearing blush of hers. Her breath hitched, and she gave a small shiver.

“I’d… like to try it,” Cerise said, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. “When you’ve recovered, of course.”

“You want to do this with me?” I asked, incredulous.

She gave me a bewildered look. “Well, of course. We’re Soulbound. I feel like that would only strengthen our powers. Besides, who else would I do this with?”

My mouth opened and closed as I realized that it had been rather foolish of me to expect her to seek out another Mage to perform the spell. But I was no engineer. The idea seemed easily dismissible simply because I felt unqualified for the task.

“You’re the king,” Cerise added with a gleam in her eyes. “I thought it best to work with the most powerful and influential Mage on the Isle. But, if you think there’s someone better, then perhaps I should look elsewhere.”

Her teasing tone ignited something feral within me. She turned away, as if preparing to leave the room to go ask other Mages to help her. With a low growl, I wrapped my arm around her chest and tugged her backward against me. She let out a yelp, legs flailing as I brought us both crashing down on the mattress. I easily rolled so I straddled her, taking care to avoid her injury. She grinned up at me, her cheeks pink and her hair a wild mess around her face.

“You are utterly devastating, witchling,” I murmured, leaning in to brush my lips along hers. “And I am powerless against you.”

Her mouth opened for me as I kissed her thoroughly. I took my time memorizing the softness of her mouth, the taste of her tongue, the firmness of those lips…

I could not get enough of her.

A year, a decade, an eternity would not be enough.

I would always need more.

At Eventide, Stover brought us dinner and informed me of everything that had happened over the past few days. Chief Ramathos had had a change of heart and now wholeheartedly supported me as the Mage King. With Gorem dead, this made the votes among the council unanimous, allowing me to keep my title.

The chiefs had sent decrees among their tribes informing the people of Gorem’s crimes and my efforts to expose him. I was surprised to learn that Cerise was also mentioned in these decrees as the half-witch half-Mage who had worked tirelessly to bring Gorem and Elvira to justice.

When I asked Stover whose idea it was to give credit to Cerise, he told me it was Chief Korvus’s suggestion. Given his desire for peace with the witches, I was not at all surprised by this. But I was still touched by his consideration, and I made a note to express my gratitude to him later on.

After the next Rising, Dulsa came to check in, using her magic to assess the health of our wolves. Sasha was doing well, and Tavik was still healing.

By the next Forenoon, he started to wake up.

“Next time,” he grumbled to me, “I’ll let you handle the angry wolf.”

I chuckled, sitting up straighter at the desk where I’d been writing letters to various noble families thanking them for their support. “You took on Voss. That was incredibly brave, Tavik.”

“Brave, or stupid?”