2. Thorne

2

THORNE

As the implications of Violet's true nature sink in, I feel a surge of excitement and urgency. Half Dark Fae. It explains so much, and yet opens up a world of new questions and possibilities. But right now, there's only one thing that matters.

"I need to go back to the ritual," I announce, my mind already running away with new insights. "Now that we know Violet is half Dark Fae, everything changes. I think I can make this work."

Caine raises an eyebrow, his grip tightening on his cane. "Are you sure? We can't afford any mistakes, Thorne."

I nod, understanding his concern. "I'm sure. This is Fae magick we're dealing with. It will resonate with Violet's true nature in a way we couldn't have anticipated before. I need to rework some elements, but I believe I can make it safer and more effective. But I need time to work through the details. Every word, every gesture needs to be perfect."

Flint nods, his expression serious. "How long do you need?"

I consider for a moment. "A few hours, at least. Maybe more. I won't rush this."

Amara nods approvingly. "A wise decision. In the meantime, we can begin preparing Violet for the awakening of her Morgana abilities."

I turn to leave, but Violet's hand on my arm stops me. "Thorne. Thank you. For everything."

The warmth in her eyes sends a jolt through me. I cover her hand with mine, savouring the contact for a brief moment. "Always, Vi. Always."

With a final nod to the others, I make my way out of the damaged office and head towards my room. My mind is already sifting through the intricacies of the ritual, seeing connections and possibilities I'd missed before.

Once in my room, I spread out my notes and the ancient tome containing the original ritual. The familiar scent of old parchment and ink fills the air as I settle into my work. Now that I know Violet's true nature, so many elements of the spell that had puzzled me before suddenly make sense.

The phrase ‘essence of twilight, caught between day and night' takes on new meaning. It's not just about timing, but about Violet's very nature, caught between the mortal and supernatural worlds, between light and dark. Her Fae blood is the key to making this work .

I scribble furiously, reworking passages and adjusting incantations. The ritual calls for ‘the blood of the bound, freely given', but now I see it's not just about Violet's blood. It's about acknowledging and embracing both sides of her nature. We'll need a way to represent her Fae heritage as well as her vampire nature.

The ritual is complex, with layers upon layers of meaning and power woven together. But now, with this new knowledge, I can see how to align those layers and make them work in harmony rather than fighting against each other.

The ‘tears of the one who would set them free', is still tricky. It could be interpreted literally, or it could be symbolic. Given the Fae nature of the spell, I suspect it's both. Perhaps tears infused with strong emotion of love, determination, hope. I make a note to circle back to that later and continue, word by word, line by line until I have a coherent ritual sitting in front of me.

As the sun rises high, I near a breakthrough. The final piece of the puzzle clicks into place, and I sit back, exhausted and exhilarated I've done it.

There is a soft knock at the door.

"Yeah?"

Caine and Flint come in and close the door behind them.

"Where's Violet?"

"Sleeping," Flint answers. "It's full daylight out. She needs rest."

"What about Nath?—"

"Amara is with her," he cuts me off .

"Do we trust this woman?" I ask instantly.

"Yeah, Blackthorne and our dads do, so that's enough for us," Caine says.

I sneer at him. "Since when did you ever trust anything your dad did?"

He snorts in response. "Okay, okay, fair enough. But this time, I do trust his judgement, and even if I didn't, I trust Glacier's."

Flint beams, looking chuffed as fuck.

"Anyway, enough about that, Violet is safe. What about you? Where are you up to?"

"It's ready," I announce without preamble. "I've reworked the ritual to account for Violet's Fae nature. I believe it will be both safer and more effective now."

Caine leans forward on his cane. "Explain."

I launch into a detailed explanation of the ritual, outlining the changes I've made and the reasoning behind them. As I speak, I can see understanding dawning on their faces.

"The key," I conclude, "is that we're not fighting against Violet's nature anymore. We're embracing it, using her dual heritage as a strength. The ritual will recognise her essence and want to help her rid herself of this bond."

"You're sure this will work?" Flint asks, his protective instincts clearly on high alert.

I meet his gaze steadily. "As sure as I can be. There's always an element of risk with this kind of magick, but I believe I've minimised it as much as possible. "

Caine taps his cane on the floor. "The execution must be flawless."

"Agreed," I say. "That's why we need to go over every detail, make sure everyone knows their part, and of course, I still need her time of turning."

"Everyone knows their part?" Flint asks. "What does that mean? Are Caine and I going to be involved?"

"Without a doubt," I say. "You are her anchors. We all are. Without the anchors, she could be lost to us forever."

"Wow, okay, no pressure then."

I grin. "So first things first. You two need to do the re-creation thing, so we get a timetable for this venture."

Caine nods. "As soon as Violet wakes up, we will get on it. Blackthorne can excuse us all from classes, if they're even on after the murders and Nate ," he spits out the word, "destroying half the Academy."

"Nate," Flint scoffs. "I can't wait to sever his head from his body."

"Get in line," I drawl.

"Nah, make it a joint effort," Caine replies.

"Now you're talking." I hold my fist up for a bump, and he obliges with the eagle's head on his cane.

I narrow my eyes at him. I've never noticed before. All these years and I've only just seen it.

The only creature I've ever seen touch him without initiation, or violence on their mind, is Violet. To prove my theory, I rise out of my chair and make a move to slap him on the shoulder. His cane comes up to stop me, and he steps back, his gaze boring into mine in annoyance.

I smile and drop my hand. Fair enough. "Let's all get some rest so we can finally get things moving in the right direction."

"Are we not even going to discuss the Morgan le Fay thing?" Flint asks, chewing his lip.

"Not yet. One thing at a time, yeah?"

He nods, and I watch them leave before crawling onto the bed, falling face first and crashing before my face hits the pillow.