Page 170 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

Cordelle sat at the edge of the fire, his face buried in a small book. His fingers flipped through the pages so fast I was surprised they weren’t smoking.

“What are you reading?” I asked, grateful for the distraction.

“I think this is about you,” Cordelle muttered without looking up.

That snapped my focus back into place. “What?”

He didn’t respond right away, his eyes skimming line after line as though he were deciphering something complicated.

“Cordy,” I pressed, my tone sharpening.

Finally, he glanced up, his face pale. “This text is about your power. But it’s more than that.” He paused, eyes flicking between me and the book like he wasn’t sure how to say what came next. “It’s... linked to the Blood King.”

The world seemed to narrow, the warmth of the fire suddenly unable to touch me.

“What?” The word squeaked out.

“The fae king’s court—before the Unification—they had a particular kind of magic,” Cordelle continued. “Storm magic. It’s rare, but when it manifests, it’s stronger in those born of fae bloodlines... but there’s more.”

“More?” I echoed, stomach knotting.

“Those with Storm magic… they were hunted. Feared. Because their power couldn’t always be controlled. It could lash out and destroy entire villages if the wielder wasn’t careful.” Cordelle’s gaze lifted from the book, pinning me with an unsettling seriousness. “Ashe... you’re not just powerful. You’re dangerous. And if the Blood King’s agents know that…”

His words trailed off, but we all knew what he wasn’t saying.

If the Blood King’s followers knew… they would want me.

The memory of the Blood Fae in the forest twisted in my mind—his mocking smile, the promise that I belonged to his master.

I swallowed hard. “What else does it say?”

Cordelle hesitated, then turned another page. “Only one person ever survived a Storm-born’s destruction,” he said quietly. “The person they were bonded to.”

“I’m not full fae. I must have more human blood than the nobles.” I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince them or myself.

Cordelle set the book down with a sigh, his fingers lingering on the worn leather cover as if he were still trying to make sense of what he’d just read.

“Ashe,” he said carefully, “I don’t think this power could manifest in someone who didn’t have a full-blooded fae parent.”

I blinked, shaking my head. “That’s impossible. There are no full-blooded…” My voice faltered, the pieces slotting into place in a way that left my stomach twisted in knots. “The prisoner?”

Cordelle nodded grimly. “I think there’s a real chance he could be your father.”

I stared at the fire, the flickering flames blurring as my thoughts spiraled. “That doesn’t make sense. Blood Fae can’t…” I trailed off, remembering the stories—the warnings. “Blood Fae lose their fertility when they force a bond on a young dragon. It’s a violation of nature’s laws. They can’t reproduce.”

“Exactly,” Cordelle said. “So if you’re here—if your power is real—your father couldn’t have been a Blood Fae.” His fingers drummed the spine of the book. “He’d have to be a Light Fae.”

I let that sink in for a moment, my thoughts tangled. “But the Light Fae vanished centuries ago… didn’t they?”

“Most of them,” Cordelle agreed. “But not all. Some went into hiding. Some… fell into enemy hands.”

I swallowed hard. “You think the prisoner is a Light Fae who was imprisoned by our king?”

“Maybe.” Cordelle’s expression was grim. “If he wanted to control his magic—or even worse, his bloodline—they’d find a way to use him. Maybe they thought a child would be easier to manipulate… or maybe they never meant for you to survive at all.”

I shook my head again, trying to make sense of something that felt impossible. “But my mother… she was human.”

“She likely was,” Cordelle shrugged. “Fae have been known to disguise themselves. Or she could’ve been a human who didn’t know what she was getting involved with. Either way…” He exhaled slowly. “If the prisoner reallyisyour father, this all gets a lot more complicated.”