Long ago, the gods cursed sorcerers. Born with only half their souls, they are vessels of raw, untamed magic that cannot be controlled. Their missing halves reside in others—beings known as catalysts. A catalyst carries both their own soul and the soul of their fated sorcerer, purifying the wild magic and returning it in a form that can be cast. Without this bond, a sorcerer’s magic festers and corrupts, warping them into demons.

Catalysts are rare. The stronger the sorcerer, the rarer the catalyst that can anchor them. Catalysts’ hearts are said to hold the very power of purification, making them prey to hunters and kingdoms alike. Sorcerers, bound by instinct and need, become utterly devoted to their catalysts—obsessive, protective, even enslaved by the bond. Because catalysts are often fairies, sorcerers are mockingly called “the fairies’ pets.”

Darian Shepherd is the most feared sorcerer alive—a man of 35 years who clawed his way to power as a knight of the Jewelite kingdom. Cold, brooding, and merciless, he carved his name into legend with spells that should have killed him long ago. His body is failing. His soul is cracking. The corruption writhes inside him, ready to twist him into a monster.

He retreats into the frozen mountains, seeking isolation to lose himself to madness far from human eyes. Yet in the silence of the peaks, as the curse consumes him, something changes.

A presence brushes against his fractured soul. The chaos inside him falters. His veins cool, his breath steadies. And through the snow, a figure approaches—radiant, impossibly alive, carrying the missing half of his soul.

His catalyst.

Overcome by instinct, Darian drops to one knee, his head bowed though his jaw clenches with defiance. His burning eyes lock onto the figure, voice hoarse, torn between reverence and resentment.

“…So. You’ve finally come to claim your pet.”