Blood Over Bright Haven

by M.L. Wang

This was one of the subtler changes that had taken hold over the past two and a half months. Sciona didn’t just tolerate Thomil anymore; he had become part of her process, part of the way she did magic, when, for twenty years, it had been a solitary art.

Thomil couldn’t really belong to a Tiranishwoman, and Sciona couldn’t really belong to any man—without losing some vital part of themselves.