Page 23 of Eternal Thorns (The Feybound Chronicles #1)

22

THE PRICE

S ilas was bent over the two journals spread across the massive oak desk. His eyes burned from hours of reading, but he couldn't stop now.

“You're going to strain your eyes,” Kai muttered from his guard post by the door. His friend had given up trying to make him sleep hours ago.

“Just one more section,” Silas promised, though they both knew it was a lie.

Marcus's elegant script filled the left journal, while Thorne's precise annotations flowed through the right one. Reading them side by side should have been purely academic. Instead, every mention of partnership or connection now carried dangerous personal weight.

The strength of bonds between human and fey directly affects magical potency, Marcus had written. Trust freely given creates channels for power to flow naturally between realms.

Beside it, Thorne's annotation added:

But forced connection corrupts that flow. Magic must be invited, not commanded. Partnership works only through mutual choice.

“Your magic is doing the glowy thing again,” Kai observed dryly.

Silas looked down to find silver light spiraling between the journals' pages. “Shut up.”

“Just saying. These books are probably older than both our families combined. Maybe try not to set them on fire with your magical pining.”

Page after page detailed how emotional bonds affected forest magic. Previous Ashworths had tried maintaining professional distance, treating partnership as purely magical theory.

Yet here was Marcus, writing about moments when that distance cracked:

Today T. smiled while teaching me a particularly complex harmony, and the entire grove bloomed out of season. Our combined magic grows stronger with each shared success, each moment of genuine understanding. I begin to suspect the old warnings about maintaining emotional distance were less about protection and more about fear.

Thorne's response in the margins was shakier than his usual precise script:

Fear born of bitter experience. Connection creates vulnerability. Trust makes betrayal possible.

His fingers traced Thorne's handwriting, following the places where careful control had wavered.

“Found something interesting?” Kai asked, noting his intense focus.

“Maybe.” Silas sat back, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “The old texts all talk about maintaining distance, treating forest magic as something to be studied rather than felt. But look at this.”

He pointed to a passage where Marcus had documented an unexpected magical surge:

During today's lesson, our magic combined with unprecedented strength. The entire grove responded, ancient powers awakening at our joint call. T. says such resonance should be impossible without centuries of practice. Yet it feels natural, like remembering something my blood always knew.

“Sounds familiar,” Kai observed with a knowing smirk.

It did. Silas's own experiences with Thorne carried that same sense of natural harmony, of connection that transcended mere magical theory.

“You're going to have to talk about this eventually,” Kai said quietly.

“I know.” Silas traced another line of Thorne's handwriting. “But how do you even begin that conversation?”

The key practically burned at this admission.

The manor's wards pulsed with renewed strength, responding to this moment of pure honesty. Ancient magic recognized truth freely given, connection chosen despite knowing its cost.

A flash of sprite-light interrupted Silas's thoughts as Briar materialized beside the desk, her freckles pulsing with unusual urgency. Her usual mischievous grin was replaced by something more serious.

“Message from your forest guardian,” she said, holding out a piece of parchment that glowed with combined human and fey magic. “And before you ask - yes, it's important, no, I don't know what it says, and yes, he was doing that brooding-but-determined thing he does when making big decisions.”

The key practically vibrated against Silas's chest as he took the spelled message. The parchment felt warm to touch, carrying traces of Thorne's power woven through with something that felt surprisingly like hope.

“He said to tell you it has to be your choice,” Briar added, her glow dimming slightly. “Something about no prophecy or destiny forcing your hand.”.

He was going to try and open the letter but Briar stopped him.

“Just...” The sprite's freckles flickered nervously. “I've known him for centuries, you know? Watched him hide behind frost and shadow because he thought it was safer. But the way he looks at you...” She took a deep breath. “Whatever that message says, whatever choice he's asking you to make - just remember you're not the only one risking everything here.”

And then, the library's magical currents shifted. Agnes stepped through the doorway, her practical dress stained with herbs and her clouded eyes sharp with purpose.

“I didn't hear you come in,” Silas managed, carefully setting aside Thorne's unopened message.

“The manor lets me come and go as I please.” Agnes moved to the windows, running her fingers along the glass where frost patterns matched the key's engravings.

“This connection between you,” Agnes continued, turning to face him properly. “It's different from anything in the records. No previous Ashworth ever bonded with a guardian like this. Not even Marcus, for all his ambition and charm.”

“Different how?” Silas asked, though part of him already knew.

“Previous partnerships were political, magical, intellectual. Important, yes, but ultimately professional.” She gestured at the silver light still dancing between journal pages. “What's forming between you and Thorne goes soul-deep. You're not just working with forest magic, you're transforming how it flows between realms entirely.”

Agnes began unpacking her supplies - herbs and crystals he recognized from their previous lessons, but also things that made his magical senses tingle with warning.

“The shadow entity's influence spreads,” she said, laying out her tools with methodical precision. “Not just here or in the forest, but in the nearby villages. Three children fell ill yesterday with symptoms no natural magic can touch. A well that's served the community for generations now pulls up water that tastes of grief.”

“Show me how to stop it,” Silas said, standing to help Agnes with her preparations.

Her clouded eyes fixed on him with uncomfortable intensity. “That's just it, isn't it? Your bond for him makes you powerful enough to fight this darkness. But that same love gives the entity its greatest strength.”

“Is that what this is? Everything's happened so fast. We barely know each other, and yet...” He trailed off, unable to find words for the bone-deep certainty he felt whenever Thorne was near.

Agnes's laugh held surprising warmth. “You think time dictates the heart? Some souls recognize each other instantly - like rivers remembering their path to the sea. What you and Thorne share isn't some fleeting infatuation. It's a connection that transcends ordinary measures.”

“But-”

“Stop thinking like a noble,” she cut him off. “Always wanting everything categorized and proper. Magic doesn't follow social conventions, and neither does the heart. What matters isn't how long you've known each other, but how completely you see each other.”

Her words rang true against something deep in his chest. Every moment with Thorne felt like remembering rather than discovering. As if his soul had been waiting to find its other half.

Together they began reinforcing the manor's defenses, Agnes guiding Silas through increasingly complex protections. But something had changed in how his magic responded. Spells that should have required intense concentration now flowed naturally.

“Your power's grown,” Agnes observed as another ward fell perfectly into place. “Not just in strength, but in fundamental nature. Forest magic recognizes your heart's truth.”

Before Silas could respond, the key's warmth flared into sudden heat. The world tilted sideways as vision overtook him - not memory or dream but possible futures unfolding like pages in a book.

He saw himself and Thorne working magic together, they were creating bridges between realms that healed centuries of division. Silver-gold light spread from Thornhaven through forest and village alike, transforming everything it touched. Their connection sparked something larger than themselves, restoring balance that had been lost since the first breaking.

But the vision shifted, darkened. That same love turned weapon, their deep bond giving the shadow entity power to manifest fully. Corruption spread through both realms, using their genuine feelings to poison everything they tried to protect. The purest intentions twisted into instruments of destruction.

“The strongest light casts the darkest shadows,” Agnes said softly as the vision faded. “The purest love often carries the heaviest burden.”

“I won't let that happen,” Silas said, though his voice shook slightly.

“Such certainty.” Agnes's smile held ancient knowing. “That's exactly what makes your bond so powerful. And so dangerous.” She touched his arm gently. “True love isn't about perfect confidence, dear one. It's about choosing each other even when the cost might be everything.”

Agnes began laying out ingredients for a more complex working, her movements precise despite her clouded eyes. “The shadow entity feeds on genuine emotion because that's what it fears most. Real connection threatens its very nature. So it tries to corrupt what it can't completely destroy.”

“Like turning love itself into weapon,” Silas said, understanding blooming like dawn.

“Exactly.” Agnes nodded approval. “But that very thing might also be its weakness. If you and Thorne can maintain true connection despite knowing how it might be used against you…” She paused, weighing her next words carefully. “Well, that's the kind of choice that changes everything.”

Together they crafted new protections, weaving silver light through Thornhaven's ancient stone.

“Why are you helping us?” Kai's voice cut through the magical haze. “No offense, but knowing my grandmother, witches don't usually work for free.”

Silas paused, realizing he'd been wondering the same thing. Agnes had been suspiciously present through every critical moment.

“You think I'm manipulating events for my own gain?” Agnes's clouded eyes fixed on Kai. “Like every other power player in this game?”

“Aren't you?” Kai challenged. “You and Lady Evangeline, pulling strings from the shadows. There's always a price.”

“You're right.” Agnes's admission stopped them both cold. “I do want something. I want to prevent what happened to me from happening again.” She rolled up her sleeve, revealing scars that pulsed with corrupted magic. “Thirty years ago, I chose fear over love. I rejected a connection that frightened me with its intensity. And that rejection?” Her bitter laugh held decades of regret. “It gave the shadow entity exactly what it needed to grow stronger.”

“Who was it?” Silas asked quietly.

“A forest spirit. Beautiful as starlight, terrible as storm. We could have bridged realms together.” Her voice caught. “Instead, I ran. Chose safety over possibility. My fear corrupted something pure into shadow.”

Silas felt the weight of her choice, understanding finally why she fought so hard to help them succeed.

“You understand what you're risking?” Agnes asked as they completed another ward. “Not just your own heart, but everything you both protect?”

“Yes.” Silas touched the key. “Some things are worth any price they demand.”

Agnes studied him with those unsettling clouded eyes. “Good answer.” She began packing away her supplies. “But remember this - the purest intentions often carry the highest cost. Whatever comes next will change both realms forever.”

Silas finally reached for Thorne's message, the spelled parchment warm against his fingers. The forest guardian's elegant script flowed across the page like water:

The decision has to be yours, freely made. Whatever you choose, I will respect it.

- T.

“Well?” Kai asked from his perch by the window. “Based on your expression, he either proposed marriage or suggested ritual sacrifice.”

“Shut up,” Silas muttered, but his friend's humor helped steady him. The key pulsed warm against his chest, responding to his surge of fierce certainty.

“Come on, don't leave me in suspense. What does our brooding forest spirit want now?”

“He's giving me a choice.” Silas traced the elegant script with his fingers. “About us. About everything.”

“That's... surprisingly mature for someone who spent centuries freezing things when he got emotional.”

“He's not like that,” Silas defended automatically, then caught Kai's knowing smirk. “Stop it.”

“Stop what? I'm not the one getting starry-eyed over magical calligraphy.”

“I am not—” Silas broke off as the key flared warmer, betraying his emotions. “This is serious, Kai.”

“Oh, I know.” His friend's teasing tone softened. “I can see it in your face. You've already made your choice, haven't you?”

“I made it a long time ago,” he admitted quietly. “I just didn't know it until now.”

It was mid-afternoon when they found themselves at the forest's edge, waiting for their usual lesson.

“I don't see why you're so nervous,” Kai said, lounging against a tree. “It's just another lesson with your terrifying magical boyfriend?—”

Thorne materialized directly behind them, making Kai yelp and nearly fall over.

“Sweet merciful—” Kai clutched his chest. “Could you maybe wear a bell or something? Make some leaves rustle? Anything?”

The corner of Thorne's mouth twitched. “My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you.”

“Yes, you did,” Silas said, fighting a smile.

“Perhaps a little,” Thorne admitted, his eyes dancing with barely suppressed amusement.

They both attempted professional distance then, but the moment their magic mingled, that careful facade crumbled.

“The defensive charm requires precise control,” Thorne explained, moving behind Silas to adjust his stance. His hands settled on Silas's waist, supposedly demonstrating proper form. The simple touch sent sparks of silver light dancing between them.

“Like this?” Silas asked, trying to focus on the spell rather than how perfectly they fit together. The key pulsed warm against his chest, bracelet humming in harmony.

“Almost.” Thorne's voice came rougher than usual. “Direct the power through?—”

Their magic surged unexpectedly, cutting off his instruction. Trees burst into impossible bloom, branches laden with luminous flowers. Silver and gold light painted the air around them.

“Oh,” Silas breathed.

“That's... not what I meant to demonstrate.”

“I don't know, seems like a pretty effective lesson to me,” Kai called from his safe distance. “Very romantic with the magical flowers and?—”

Dark tendrils lashed out from the forest depths, corrupting their creation. Flowers blackened and died as shadow spread through their connection. They contained it quickly, but the damage was done.

“Okay, less romantic now,” Kai amended, backing up further.

Silas felt Thorne's spike of guilt and protective fear. The forest guardian's hands tightened slightly on his waist.

“We should stop,” Thorne said quietly, though he made no move to step away. “This isn't safe.”

“Since when has that ever stopped us?” Silas challenged, covering Thorne's hands with his own.

“You're both impossible,” Kai muttered. “Just try not to accidentally destroy the forest with your magical flirting?”

“I just want you to be safe.” Thorne said.

Something in Silas finally snapped. Weeks of careful distance crashed through his last defenses. He spun in Thorne's loose hold, grabbed the front of his shadow-woven tunic, and yanked him closer.

“Fuck safe,” Silas growled. “I'm tired of letting fear dictate everything.”

“Right then,” Kai called, already backing away. “I'll just... go patrol the perimeter. Try not to accidentally destroy the forest while I'm gone.”

Before Thorne could respond, Silas pulled him closer, one hand finding the nape of his neck where shadow met starlight. The forest guardian's breath caught, centuries of maintained distance shattering against the simple truth of touch. His ethereal nature solidified beneath Silas's hands, becoming perfectly, wonderfully real.

When their lips met, it felt like worlds aligning. Magic surged between them, raw and honest as a storm breaking. Thorne's fingers traced Silas's jaw with impossible tenderness, as if touching something infinitely precious. Through their bond flowed complete acceptance - not just of each other, but of whatever price this connection demanded.

Power erupted around them as their magic merged with dangerous perfection. The forest responded instantly, the very air singing with notes unheard since realms first separated. The key burned bright against Silas's chest as reality itself seemed to shift around them.

Darkness exploded outward from where their magic touched, corrupting everything their love transformed. They broke apart, both staggered by how their genuine connection fed their enemy's power. Where moments ago new life had bloomed, now corruption spread in perfect circles, leaving death and twisted beauty in its wake.

“Well,” Thorne said roughly, though he hadn't moved far. “That was...”

“Worth it,” Silas finished. His hands still rested on the forest guardian's chest, feeling the steady thrum of power beneath ethereal skin. “Every possible consequence. Worth it.”

“The shadow entity will only grow stronger,” Thorne warned, even as his thumb traced Silas's lower lip.

“Let it.” Silas leaned into the touch, letting his own certainty flow through their connection. “Let's give it something to really fear.”

The key flared hot between them, responding to this choice made with full awareness of its cost. Their magic surged again, gentler this time but no less potent. Where silver-gold light touched the corrupted ground, new growth pushed through the poison - not pristine and perfect, but stronger for having overcome darkness.

“I love you,” Silas said simply, because it was true. The words sent ripples through their combined magic, making the key pulse with dangerous joy. “Whatever that strengthens, whatever price it demands. I choose this. Choose you.”

Thorne caught his face between gentle hands, ancient eyes holding centuries of hard-won wisdom. “Tell me that again when you've had time to fully understand what it means,” he murmured. “When you've seen exactly what loving me might cost you. What loving you already costs me.” His thumb traced Silas's cheekbone with aching tenderness. “This isn't just about us anymore. Every feeling we share changes both realms.”

“I'll tell you again tomorrow,” Silas promised fiercely. “And the day after that. Every day until you believe me. I don’t care if it is fast or whatever.”

Thorne's response came not in words but in another kiss, fierce and tender at once. His crown of branches caught sunlight while power rippled beneath his skin, ancient magic accepting this freely offered love.

Silas’s breath hitched as the forest seemed to pulse in rhythm with their magic, the air charged with lingering power. Thorne’s hands, steady and deliberate, traced a path down Silas’s chest, igniting sparks where his touch met bare skin. Their bond hummed between them, an unseen thread taut with unspoken promises. Silas tilted his head back, his eyes briefly catching the patchwork sky where shafts of sunlight pierced through the dense canopy. The light seemed sharper, more alive, as though the forest itself was bearing witness to this moment.

The ground beneath them wasn’t soft, but the burgeoning growth pushed through corrupted soil, creating a cradle of new life. Silas’s fingers curled into the fabric of Thorne’s cloak before letting it fall away completely, revealing more of the ethereal guardian’s form. His body was a study in contrasts: sharp angles of bark-like texture softened by the glow of veins coursing with liquid gold. Silas’s hands skimmed over him, mapping out every ridge and hollow, each touch an act of devotion.

“You’re sure?” Thorne’s voice carried a raw edge, but his gaze was steady, searching Silas’s face for any doubt.

“I already chose you,” Silas replied, his voice steady despite the rapid thrum of his heartbeat. “I’m not going to stop now.”

Thorne’s mouth quirked into the faintest of smiles, a rare expression that only made Silas’s resolve harden. The guardian leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that deepened with every passing second. The taste of him was heady, like fresh rain and ancient woods, grounding Silas even as the intensity of their connection threatened to pull him under.

Silas’s back met the uneven ground as Thorne lowered him, his movements deliberate but tinged with urgency. The rough press of bark against his skin sent a shiver through him, but it only heightened his awareness of every point where they touched. Thorne’s hands roamed lower, the pads of his fingers leaving trails of warmth and sensation. Silas let out a shaky breath as Thorne’s mouth traced a line along his jaw before dipping to his neck, teeth grazing against sensitive skin.

“Fuck,” Silas murmured, his voice breaking on the word as Thorne’s tongue soothed where teeth had just been. His hands slid down to Thorne’s hips, tugging him closer, desperate for the friction of their bodies aligning.

Magic surged again, a golden-silver glow radiating from where their bare skin met. It wasn’t the searing burst of power that had erupted earlier but something deeper, more intimate, as though their union was feeding the forest’s rebirth. Silas felt the thrum of the key nestled between them, responding to their connection with its own pulse, like a third heartbeat syncing with theirs.

Thorne’s touch grew bolder, his hand slipping between Silas’s thighs, fingers exploring with deliberate care. Silas arched into the touch, a moan slipping from his lips unbidden. His own hands wandered, finding purchase on Thorne’s shoulders, his nails digging into the otherworldly texture of his skin. Thorne’s gaze flicked up, catching Silas’s eyes with a look that spoke of possession and reverence in equal measure.

“Tell me if…” Thorne began, but Silas cut him off, his voice hoarse but resolute.

“Don’t hold back. I want everything.”

The forest seemed to echo his words, a ripple of wind stirring the leaves above them. Thorne’s lips quirked into a faint smirk before he pressed forward, his body covering Silas’s entirely. Their movements became a rhythm, a push and pull that was both primal and sacred. Silas gasped as Thorne’s cock slid into him, the stretch sharp at first but easing into a deep, satisfying fullness. The connection sent jolts of pleasure and magic coursing through him, their bond flaring brighter with each thrust.

Silas clung to Thorne, his fingers gripping the guardian’s shoulders as though anchoring himself. Each motion was deliberate, a dance of giving and taking that seemed to mirror the forest’s own cycle of destruction and renewal. The rough bark beneath Silas scraped at his back, grounding him in the raw reality of their coupling even as the magic swirling around them threatened to pull them into something otherworldly.

“You…feel like the fucking sun,” Silas gasped, his voice barely audible above the sounds of their bodies moving together. “Burning me up from the inside out.”

Thorne’s response was a low growl, his teeth grazing Silas’s collarbone as his hips snapped forward with more force. Silas cried out, his hands slipping down Thorne’s back, nails raking against skin that shimmered like molten gold. The pressure building within him was almost unbearable, a coiling tension that threatened to break him apart.

“Don’t…stop,” Silas managed, his voice tight with need. Thorne’s pace quickened, his movements losing some of their precision but none of their intensity. Silas’s head fell back, his body arching as he teetered on the edge. When the release came, it was like a supernova, magic and sensation exploding outward in a wave that left him trembling.

Thorne followed seconds later, his own release spilling warmth between them as his body collapsed against Silas’s. Their magic flared one last time before settling into a steady hum, the forest around them glowing faintly as if in acknowledgment of what had transpired. Silas’s chest heaved, his hands falling limply to his sides as he tried to catch his breath. Thorne’s weight was solid and comforting, his head resting against Silas’s shoulder.

“You…okay?” Thorne asked after a moment, his voice low and rough.

Silas let out a breathless laugh, his hand coming up to thread through Thorne’s hair. “More than okay. Fucking perfect.”

Thorne’s lips brushed against Silas’s temple in a gesture so tender it made his chest ache. Silas closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the warmth of their connection. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt whole.

He looked up and saw that the moon was full through the grove's canopy, its silver light catching on Thorne's crown of branches where they lay tangled together on the forest floor. The sight made his heart clench - only days remained until the deadline. Until he had to choose whether to step into the forest willingly for judgment, or wait for the grove to claim what it was owed.

The guardian's form shifted between shadow and substance against Silas's bare skin, but his arms tightened around him, as if already dreading having to let go.

“When you gave me that ultimatum,” Silas murmured, tracing patterns on Thorne's chest where starlight met shadow, “did you ever think we'd end up here?”

“No.” Thorne's voice was rough with emotion. “I thought I was giving you time to understand your family's crimes. Instead...” He pressed another kiss to Silas's temple. “Instead you made me understand something far more dangerous.”

“What's that?”

“That some risks are worth taking.” His ethereal nature solidified further, anchoring them both in this stolen moment. “Some choices matter more than ancient grudges.”

The key pulsed warm between their pressed bodies, counting down heartbeats until judgment day. But here, wrapped in each other's embrace, even fate seemed less important than what they'd found in each other.