A Conjuring of Light (Shades of Magic, #3)

by V.E. Schwab

watched the threads of magic around Rhy’s body fray, threatening to snap.

“Kell,” she said, trying to find her warmth. She meant to go on, meant his name to be the beginning of a question—Where did you go? What happened to you? To my son?—but he was already on his feet, already taking up his coat.

She forgave him nothing. She owed him everything.

And instead came Kell. Kell, who carried a world of magic in his blood. Kell, who was unbreakable. Kell, who could protect her son.

His fingers curled in the sheets, his sleep growing shallow, restless. A word escaped his lips, little more than an exhale, but she recognized the sound and shape of Kell’s name, before, at last, her son woke up.