Thoma X Aether Novels & Stories

This one felt intentional. As they reached the western tower, they saw a figure standing at its base—tall, with skin like marble, eyes like blue fire. He wore armor made of starlight, and in his hand, he held a sword that glowed with cold energy. He was one of them. One of the trapped gods. “I am Aether, the God of Stars,” he said, his voice like wind through space. “I have broken free. And I am here to free the rest.”

“I think your heart already knows the answer.” A heavy silence followed, then Theo sighed deeply, as though exhaling years of buried guilt. “You’re right. I can’t ignore this any longer.” He lowered his voice to a near whisper. “I’ve decided to… seek someone who can help me find her. A sorcerer from outside the known lands. Quietly.” At his words, Matt’s eyes widened. “Alpha, no! You know the law. Sorcery is forbidden — if anyone, especially Alpha Damian, finds out—”

My eyes don’t even look like my own- they’re sunken, dull, lifeless. When the bathroom starts to fill with steam, I slip into the shower, try to wash myself clean. I let out the sorrow, the frustration- my body trembles, wracked with sobs. I’m in disbelief that fate would be this cruel, would get it so wrong. I don’t know if it’s the water from the shower or my own tears streaming down my face- I’m not sure where the water ends and my tears begin. I do know two things, though. Theo’s my mate. And I’m going to reject him.

Sethlzaar pressed his eyes shut. “Oh.” He heard the surprise in Thane’s voice. “And why do you think so, Cenam?” A pause. There was no reply. “Ok then…” Thane shrugged. “What of you?” His attention moved. “Taeval?” “Because he fights like a blessed.” The voice was Vagris’. “Always has.” “Oh, I see.” Thane’s hold softened. “And how does a blessed fight, Taeval?” “Quick. Sharp. Witty. Like a blessed.”

“It was the word before the corruption redirected everything toward structure and hierarchy and the things that filled the space rather than the space itself.” I looked at the infant. At the establishing third bloodline. At the forty-seventh attempt holding steady. “Aether,” I said. The infant looked at me. The focused gaze. The warmth. “Aether,” I said again. Something settled. Not dramatically. The specific settling of a name finding the thing it belongs to and the thing recognising it. I looked at Damien in the mirror. He was looking at the road and the mirror simultaneously in the way of a driver who has been processing something while driving and has arrived at a position.

"What are you doing?" "I'm going to tell the truth," Camelia said. Three Minutes Later The image of Camelia Thorne appeared on screens across the globe. She looked tired, her eyes red from the Marseille mission, but she stood with a terrifying dignity. "People of the world," she began, her voice steady. "Tonight, our grid was attacked by a shadow organization known as Aether-X. They used stolen data to simulate a catastrophe. But they failed. They failed because of a man who is currently serving a twelve-year sentence in Berlin. A man named William Thorne."