Merlin's journals occupied the place of honor—leather-bound volumes written in code that only his blood could decipher. Brandon had spent decades studying them, learning secrets his ancestor had taken to the grave.
Now he needed different knowledge.
Brandon pulled sources on mate bonds from a shelf that hadn't been disturbed in years. Most mages never needed this information. Mate bonds were rare enough to be purely theoretical for most practitioners.
But Brandon's family had documented everything.
The research was grim. And tragic, in Merlin’s case. He’d fallen in love with his most gifted student, Nimue/Viviane, known in legends as the Lady of the Lake, and she’d destroyed him. Or imprisoned him, depending on which historical text he read. No one really knew for sure.
One journal entry hit particularly hard:
She asked why I had gone to such lengths to repel the bond, and I could not tell her the truth—that once sealed, she would be bound to me for eternity. I feared she would see it as imprisonment rather than devotion. Now I am the one imprisoned, and I wonder: if I had been honest from the first, would she have chosen this cage for me? Or would she have built it with me instead of around me?
The irony wasn’t lost on Brandon.
Mate bonds, once fully formed, couldn't be severed without catastrophic consequences. The magical tethering ran soul-deep, integrating two magics into a complementary system. Separation attempts historically ended in death—usually both parties, always agonizing.
There were theoretical workarounds. Ancient rituals that might separate without killing. But the cost was steep.
Brandon read about witches who'd lost their minds afterward, magic turning wild and destructive. About mages whose power had simply stopped, leaving them hollowed out husks. About pairs who'd technicallysurvived only to waste away over months or years, their souls rejecting the unnatural division.
Then he found another passage that made his blood run cold.
When one mate dies, the bond does not sever cleanly. The surviving mate feels the death as if occurring within their own body. The phantom pain can last hours, days, or—in cases of violent death—weeks. Many surviving mates lose their sanity. Others lose their will to live. Few survive more than a year past their mate's death.
Brandon stared at the words, understanding blooming.
Muriel’s mother had been heartbroken her entire life.
Not because Declan had abandoned her.
Because she'd felt him die.
Through their mate bond, she would have experienced every moment of his final fight. Felt his determination to protect her. Felt his magic failing. Felt his life slip away while she was pregnant with his child, helpless and alone.
Then she'd had to keep living. To raise Muriel. To maintain the protective wards Declan had taught her, all while carrying his death in her soul.
No wonder she warned Muriel about mages,Brandon thought numbly.No wonder she never moved on. How could she? She was still tied to him, even in death.
The grief must have been unbearable.
Brandon closed the book with shaking hands. This was what Muriel faced if something happened to him. This was the price of the bond she'd never asked for.
The Consilium wouldn't just be hunting her for theCodex. They'd be hunting him too. And if they killed him...
I have to stay alive,Brandon realized.Not just for me. For her.
If Muriel chose to forgive him, if she gave them a chance—then he had to make damn sure he survived whatever the Consilium threw at them.
Thankfully, he was a lot harder to kill than the average mage.
By the timeBrandon emerged from his underground sanctuary, many hours had passed. He was carrying up an assortment of curated references for Armand when his phone buzzed with a text from Jason.
Jason:Your presence is immediately requested.
Brandon frowned. Jason wasn't the type to issue vague summons. If he was being cryptic?—
His phone buzzed again. This text, an image of a man, dirty and disheveled. Vampire restraints glowed around his wrists. And in the background, enhanced and zoomed: a photograph of Muriel's face.