Page 83 of Lady of Starfire (Lady of Darkness #5)

“The Trials would not be completed, and the bond could not be Anointed,” Tybalt answered. “Eventually the Mark would fade, and the piece of the soul that was offered is lost in the voids between the stars.”

“To be clear, a bond cannot be Anointed if the two are not twin flames, yes?”

“Yes. What is this about, Cassius?” Tybalt asked, coming around his desk and leaning against it. “Do you believe the two of you are—”

“No,” Cassius interrupted. “I love him, yes, but Cyrus had a twin flame. They recognized the bond the moment they saw each other. She was killed.”

Kind eyes slid to Cyrus. “I am sorry to hear that, Cyrus.”

“She wasn’t—” Cyrus started.

“Did the two of you complete the Trials?” Cassius snarled, rounding on him.

“Yes, but—”

“And was your bond Anointed?” Cass demanded.

“By Beatrix, but—”

“But nothing,” Cass interrupted again. “How much more proof do you need, Cyrus?”

“Thia was Fae!” Cyrus snapped. “I am Fae. It could not have been a real bond. The Sorceress said—”

“That godsdamn Sorceress,” Cassius growled, his eyes shifting.

Smoke furled when he exhaled, his hands fisting at his sides.

His features darkened, violence simmering in his glowing eyes, and Cyrus almost took a step back.

“If I accomplish only one thing before I cross the Veil, it will be to witness her death. I will consider myself blessed by the gods if I am the one to bestow it.”

“If I may,” Tybalt interrupted, hands still braced on the desk behind him.

Cyrus glanced at him, and he could tell the Avonleyan now understood what was happening here.

“Cassius is correct. The bond would not have been completed and Anointed if it were not a true twin flame bond. The Marks would have rejected the Anointing. Even completing the Trials would have been near impossible if it were not a true bond. One of you had Avonleyan lineage. Even a trace of it would have been enough. But if you both recognized the bond immediately while both of you believing yourselves fully Fae …” His lips tipped up in a small smile.

“I would consider you profoundly blessed, Cyrus. Fate clearly wanted you together, even if just for a time.”

“You were deserving of a twin flame, Cyrus,” Cassius said, his tone having softened.

Cyrus lifted his gaze to his, only then realizing a tear had slipped free.

Cass’s eyes were still shifted and glowing, but gods.

It was love that stared back at him. Raw and unbridled and pure.

“Not only were you deserving of a twin flame, but you have found real, true love two other times. You have found a family. The Sorceress stole from you. She stole your memories and made you question that love. That’s not your fault, but do not give her this too, Cyrus.

Choose to believe those who love you over her. Choose us, Cyrus.”

“I will be in the den if you need me,” Tybalt said quietly, Traveling from the room.

Cassius reached out, grabbing the front of Cyrus’s tunic and tugging him forward.

His other hand came up and cupped Cyrus’s jaw.

“I will not take another Source, Cyrus. It will be you or no one. It does not need to be tonight. It does not need to be tomorrow. It will be when you are ready, and if that day does not come? That is okay, too. We will figure something out. And if we do not? I choose a powerless existence with you over power with someone else. You deserve love, Cyrus. I’ll say it until you believe it, and then I’ll say it so you remember it. ”

“I don’t know how to fix this. How to fix me,” Cyrus replied in an agonized whisper.

“You don’t need to fix a godsdamn thing,” Cassius replied, bringing his mouth to his.

It did exactly what Cassius had once said he’d do.

When words weren’t enough, he found another way.

The kiss was slow and thorough, and Cass pulled back first, keeping his lips a breath away when he said, “You need to choose it, Cyrus. After that, we clean it up together.”

Cyrus reached up, wrapping his hands around Cassius’s wrists. “What’s best for me is you.”

The hand fisted in Cyrus’s tunic loosened, fingers sliding down his torso and landing on his hip. “You took that mugweed from my rooms, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Cyrus sighed.

Cass’s lips tipped up. “I have more I hid from you.”

“Thank fuck,” Cyrus muttered a moment before Cassius pulled them through the air.

They were back on the balcony, Cassius already striding for the door to get the mugweed.

“Cassius, wait,” Cyrus called after him. Cass paused, turning back. Cyrus rubbed at the back of his neck. “We should find Cethin or something. Have him give the Mark. Probably shouldn’t do that while we’re fucked up on mugweed.”

“I said it didn’t need to be tonight, Cyrus,” Cassius said slowly, moving as if to take a step but then staying where he was.

“I know what you said,” Cyrus answered. “But it’s something you need, and despite what you said, it does need to be done sooner than later. We need to go to the continent, and you need to have your magic at its strongest when we’re there. And I just …”

“We don’t need Cethin, Cyrus.”

Cyrus dropped his hand to his side. “We don’t?”

Cassius shook his head, still rooted to that same spot. “I’m Avonleyan. Same as Scarlett and Cethin and Razik.”

“Marks have to be drawn precisely, Cass.”

“I know. What do you think I have been studying in those books all this time?”

Cyrus’s brows rose. “You’ve been studying the Source Mark?”

“I’ve been studying the Marks in general, but yes. I’ve been practicing the Source Mark more than the others.”

“So you can …” Cyrus trailed off.

Cassius nodded. “But only if you’re sure, Cyrus.”

The thing was, Cyrus didn’t know if he’d ever be completely sure. Not with everything Gehenna had done to his memories. He would forever question if it was the right choice. If he was hurting the ones he loved. Some small part of him would always grapple with distinguishing the lies she’d sown.

He blew out a harsh breath, hand tugging at his strands again. “It won’t be a twin flame Mark, but it will be something. To help ground me when her words are threatening to overtake my reality. To remind me that you’re still here. That I chose this, and you chose me. Despite it all.”

Cassius didn’t say anything. Just turned and walked back into the room.

Cyrus sighed, pushing his hands through his hair again before he followed.

Cassius was already coming back in from the other room, flipping through the pages of a book until he found the one he was looking for. Uncertain eyes lifted to his.

“This is it, Cyrus,” Cass said. “It’s a lifetime.”

“That’s what we’re going for, isn’t it?” Cyrus asked, trying to muster up his cocky grin.

“You know what I mean,” he retorted, scanning the page. “Last chance to say no.”

“What’s best for me is you,” Cyrus answered. There was no hesitation when he said it. No second guessing himself or questioning the truth of those words.

“From what Scarlett and Sorin have said, this will be …uncomfortable,” Cassius said, setting the book on their bed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Cyrus replied, moving closer and flopping down onto the blankets. “I’m familiar with uncomfortable, Cass. Let’s do this.”

Cassius retrieved a dagger from across the room, and Cyrus propped a hand behind his head, bending a knee and getting comfortable. Cass snickered when he came back, and Cyrus felt the bed dip when he sat on the edge of it.

“Where do you want the Mark?” he murmured, pulling the book closer and studying the page once more.

“Whatever’s easiest,” Cyrus answered with a shrug. “Forearm? Like Sorin’s?”

“That would be fine, but I was thinking the back of your hand. Your right hand,” Cass added quickly, twisting to face him fully.

“That’s fine, but any particular reason?” he asked curiously, studying him. His eyes were already shifted to an amber-red, and he reached for Cyrus’s right hand where it was resting atop his stomach.

“Because you said the Mark would ground you,” Cass answered, his thumb swiping across the back of Cyrus’s hand. “Seeing it would remind you that you’re wanted, even if I can’t be there to say it at the time. This way, it’s visible at all times.”

Cyrus swallowed thickly, rotating his wrist so their fingers intertwined. “Yeah, Cass,” he rasped. “Back of the hand is good.”

They didn’t speak after that.

Cassius dragged the dagger across the back of Cyrus’s hand, holding it in his lap while he carefully drew the Mark with his finger. Cyrus watched him. Head bent low. Hair hanging in his face. Entirely focused on the task. In complete control.

When he was done, he compared it to the Mark in the book for a long moment until Cyrus said, “I’m sure it’s perfect, Cass.”

“I’m not taking any chances,” he murmured back, eyes darting from the book and back to the Mark again.

“Let’s go, Cass,” Cyrus urged, stretching out his leg. “The sooner we do this, the sooner we find that mugweed.”

Cassius huffed a laugh, reaching for the dagger again. He held it over his palm. “Last chance.”

“I’m all yours,” Cyrus answered with a wink. Cassius huffed another laugh, but when he sliced his palm and started to bring it to the Mark, Cyrus said, “Cass?”

Cassius froze. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

The corner of his lips tipped up. “I love you too, Cyrus.”

Then his hand was on the Mark, their blood mixing, and Cyrus was cursing.

“Fucking fire of Anala,” he gasped when heat blazed through him, and not the fire he was used to.

This was the same heat that had steadily burned through his shield in a training arena the first time Cassius had kissed him.

He’d known if that dragon fire touched him, it would hurt like a motherfucker, and he’d been right because fuck .