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PROLOGUE

H ow had he gone from a cherished child to an unwanted spawn in one meeting? Eight-year-old Xavier Castling trudged after his parents, trying to keep his face blank and his steps silent. Or were they ex-parents now? It had been ten days since his Mage test, and they hadn’t spoken directly to him since.

They had talked down to him a few times, ordered him to his room, and told him to stay away from his siblings. His mother had slapped him when he asked what was happening. His parents used to be warm and loving; they bragged about their children at parties and insisted to everyone that they would be the greatest mages of their generation. Why did his designation change everything?

He wouldn’t cry.

Not anymore.

After he spent a fifth day exiled to his room, he vowed never to let them hurt him again. If they didn’t want him, he wouldn’t want them back.

“Is this the boy?”

A vibrant voice pulled Xavier’s attention back to the present. His mind had wandered as they traversed the cold, stone courtyard. They didn’t bother telling him where they were going. After his father’s last slap had knocked him to the ground and left a bruise covering his entire right cheek, he’d been too afraid to ask anything else. They had stuffed all his belongings haphazardly into boxes and claimed they would send them to him once he was settled. He would be surprised if he saw any of it again.

“Yes.” His father’s magic flared in disgust. He almost preferred the slap. The magic that used to wrap around him in a warm hug now jangled a warning to step back and stung him with little electric snaps if he dared to get too close.

What had changed?

His magical designation didn’t mean he was no longer their son.

Until it did.

The tall, thin stranger's opalescent white eyes sparkled with secrets and unspoken magic. His aura flared around him as if his frail frame couldn’t contain the large amount of magic oozing from his pores. Xavier had never been particularly magic-sensitive, but even a non-magical human would have felt this stranger’s power and crossed the street to avoid him.

He tried not to stare.

“And you’re certain you want to sign him over,” the man continued.

“Yes.” His mother’s cold, confident tone stabbed Xavier deeper than his father’s favorite athame. “There hasn’t been a filthy blood mage in our families in centuries. We’d thought the magic had died out. We have no use for a child with power like that.”

Use? Since when did he need to be useful? What about just being their son? Had he imagined their affection over the years? These scary strangers weren’t the loving people who’d raised him.This eerie, magical man was looking better by the second.

“Sign here.” He held out a bright blue clipboard that appeared too modern for the old-fashioned setting. It had several pages attached. “In exchange for his training, he will apprentice to me for fifteen years.”

Xavier held back his instinctive denial. There was nothing he could do about this. If he protested, he worried he might have a tragic accident that would have his mother pulling out her best funeral dress and crying fake tears, like she did when her least favorite brother died and left her his fortune. Best to stay silent and observe. An apprenticeship might be the perfect haven he needed until he could protect himself. The streets were no place for a kid, and he had a feeling that was where he’d end up if this mage didn’t take him in. He might be young, but he wasn’t stupid.

“Fine. Whatever. As long as he isn’t our problem anymore." His father glared at Xavier. “Hear that, boy? Don’t bother returning home when you’re done here. The wards won’t let you through. Don’t contact us. Don’t contact your siblings. I have set up a bank account with enough money to get you started after your apprenticeship. Don’t expect more.”

“Yes, f-sir.” He would no longer call this man father, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take his money. He’d need it later. Apprenticeships were rarely paid, and if they were, they paid little. He wouldn’t let his pride stop him from having a promising future.

His mother gave him a long, indecipherable look before taking his father’s arm and letting him escort her away without speaking. After they vanished around the corner, he turned to face his new guardian or possibly owner, depending on the contract. Considering his father’s attitude, he wouldn’t be surprised if he was more of a servant than an apprentice.

“My name is Melcori. I am a Grand Master Blood Mage. Your magical aptitude test revealed that you have a remarkable potential for blood magics—the highest I’ve seen in many years. Your parents were fools to abandon you, but we will make them regret it.” Melcori’s magic flared out, but instead of sharp, electric snaps, it wrapped around him like a comforting cloak, easing Xavier’s spiraling anxiety. “Lady Magic will ensure they pay. I’ll also teach you how to overpower wards so you can express your displeasure when you grow older.”

Xavier peeked up at his new Master, hoping he allowed questions. His face still throbbed from his last one. “Sir, what do you mean by Lady Magic will make them pay?”

“Either call me Master or Melcori. I don’t care which. To answer your question, your family was blessed with a blood mage. A gift from Lady Magic. That their first instinct was to throw you out won’t be appreciated by the goddess who granted you that power. All special magic should be appreciated and not treated as an unnatural taint, just like children.”

Melcori’s scowl transformed into a kindly smile. “You’re mine now, child. You might not have been mine by birth, but you’re my apprentice, and I will make sure you’re the best blood mage since me. They don’t deserve to claim your power for their family.”

Xavier rubbed his aching chest even as resolve settled in his spine. At least one person wanted him. He wouldn’t let Melcori down.

Melcori squeezed Xavier’s shoulder. “Follow me. I’ve got your room prepared. It’s not luxurious, but it has everything you‘ll need. You can add your things when they arrive.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t know what his parents would’ve done if they couldn’t have pawned him off on someone. He would miss his brother and sister, but neither had bothered to visit him during his captivity—no doubt they would follow their parents’ lead. Like him, they thought they were loving parents. Despite his siblings’ abandonment, he hoped they never learned differently.

From now on, he could only rely on himself. Whether he wanted to cultivate Blood Magic was now out of his hands. Everyone else had decided his future. He had fifteen years to plan. Until then, he would learn everything his new master was willing to teach and become the best blood mage he could.

They would regret tossing him away.