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“Mage,” I croaked, my heart pounding harder than it had the day I earned my spurs.

He met my gaze calmly, seemingly undisturbed by my attack.

“You’re a myth,” I said.

Faint amusement gleamed in his eyes. “You’re the last person who should accuse me of not existing.”

I moved off him, sitting hard on my ass in the sand. He sat up more slowly. His blue gaze was steady as I swiped his blood off my chin. The wound on his neck bled freely.

“I should fix that,” I said gruffly, nodding toward the puncture marks. He tilted his head, exposing his neck. His trust filled me with a squirming, hot emotion I recognized as shame. I leaned in and sealed the wound. “I apologize for…that.”

“It’s all right.” He brushed his fingers over the spot. “I’ve never been fed from until now.”

“Never?”

He smiled a little. “My kind value secrecy.”

I swallowed, tasting more of his blood. “Does the Brotherhood—?”

“Know about us? No, and we like it that way.” He studied me. “You know your histories, Lord Varick, probably more than anyone outside the Towers or the Sanctum. The Brotherhood ran mages out of their ranks hundreds of years ago. There was a time when the Towers embraced magic. It was a good thing, too, considering it was mages who raised the Thicket. But no organization is immune from power struggles. The factions who distrusted magic grew powerful in the decades after Eldenvalla fell.” He shrugged. “Eventually, they got their way. Mages left the Brotherhood and disappeared into the pages of history. And then we became a myth, much like yourself.”

“Except here we are, speaking to each other,” I rasped.

His smile grew, revealing his dimple. “Yes. Here we are.”

“If you want to stay hidden, why join the Brotherhood?”

He sobered. “You’re not the only one who grew up in the shadow of the Thicket.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Dark forces are moving in those trees, Lord Varick. Old threats are stirring. My people believe you and Princess Given have important roles to play in the events to come. Although, I suppose she’s Queen Given now.”

His declaration didn’t surprise me as much as it should have. Magic ran through my veins, too. And I’d known there was something different about Given the moment I realized she heard the voice at the Rift.

But Jordan clearly had more details than I possessed. “What does that mean?” I demanded. “What events do you speak of?”

“We’re not totally sure. But there is a reason you, Laurent, and Given were brought together. That much I know.”

I huffed and looked out at the water. “The three of us.”

“You love him,” Jordan said softly.

My throat tightened. “From almost the moment I met him,” I told the sea. “He…found me. That night.”

Jordan was silent for a long moment. When he spoke at last, his voice was soft. “And he saved you?”

“He did. He fed me but it wasn’t enough to heal everything.” Another wave crested and broke against the shore. “He’d already used so much of his power. He left to fetch thralls, and I dragged myself into the water.”

Jordan sucked in a breath.

“The salt sealed the wounds in my back,” I said. “It burned, but I wanted to hurt. I wanted to sink to the bottom like the shipwrecks I watched as a boy. But Laurent wouldn’t let me. He dragged me onto the shore. Pounded my chest until I puked up seawater. Then he made me swear on elven steel that I would never try to take my life again.”

Silence fell. Jordan was quiet for so long, I wondered if he’d left. But when I turned my head, he was still there. His dark curls were rumpled. Sand dusted his shoulders.

“What are you capable of?” I asked.

He was silent a moment longer. Then he scooped a handful of sand into his palm. “My magic is rooted in the earth. It’s the reason mages were able to raise the Thicket.” He squeezed his fist. When he opened it, a small, white flower rested on his palm.

I touched a petal. “You don’t see many of these this far north.”

“No,” he murmured, “you have to go south for that.”