Thorne Nightshade's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Thorne Nightshade had three days to find his fated mate before the shadow-court gave her to another man. He knew this because the court had already sent the binding writ. He did not know her name. He did not know her face. He only knew the bond pulled at his chest like a hook, and it led nowhere he could follow. He stood in the great hall of his dark palace, and he could not use it. His panther paced the cold stone beside him. The cat sensed his fury and would not settle. Thorne had spent a lifetime learning to look like nothing frightened him. His shoulders were wide. His voice was low and hard. But the writ shook in his hand, and he hated that no one could see how much this frightened him. The court forbade the bond. A dark fairy of his blood was not meant to claim a fated mate. If the court found her first, they would bind her to a loyal noble and be done with the danger. Thorne would spend forever knowing she lived and could never be his. So he went to the one person who might see what he could not. The blind seer kept her chamber below the palace, where the air smelled of wax and old smoke. She did not turn when he entered. She never needed to. "You walk louder when you're afraid," Cassandra Veil said. She sat with her staff across her knees. The crystal at its head glowed a slow, sick purple. Her white eyes stared past him at nothing. "The court means to take her," Thorne said. "You know where she is. You've always known." Cassandra smiled, and it was not a kind smile. "I know a great many things I'm paid to forget." Thorne crossed the room and knelt. This was the thing no one would believe of him. The dark fairy who made lords flinch now knelt on the floor and begged a blind woman. "Please," he said. "They gave me three days." Her face changed. The staff went still. "They lied to you," she said. "The binding is set for dawn. Not three days. Tomorrow." The words hit him like a blow. He rose fast, and his panther snarled. "She lives past the northern ridge," Cassandra went on. "A cottage under the frost pines. She keeps a white leopard for a guardian. Go now, or you go to a wedding that isn't yours." Thorne was already moving. His cloak swept the floor. "Fairy," Cassandra called after him. He stopped. "When they learn I told you, the court will hunt us both. You've made me your enemy's enemy. Do not waste it." Thorne looked back once. Then he ran for the doors, the panther at his heel, into a night that gave him until sunrise and no more.