“I’m in love with you, and I’ve doomed you.” He leaves the sofa, putting distance between us. “I thought if I didn’t kiss you, didn’t spend time with you, and focused on the curse, then I’d escape it. But you weren’t content with that, were you? You had to infiltrate my every waking moment.”
He stalks the length of the room, downing the scalding tea like it’s alcohol and discarding the mug on the counter.
“At first, I thought I was just in awe of you. But it was more than that. You helped Lambert pass those exams, broke the first layer of the curse, and slipped those tonics into my drinks, even when I was an absolute bastard to you in return. You knelt by my side, promising such sweet perfect submission if only I dared reach out and take it.” His hands clench and unclench. “Somehow, you offered me peace in the depths of hell, and I burned all the deeperfor it.”
“I—” I stutter, but he’s not done.
“You were clever, and kind, and you loved my brother the way he’s always deserved to be loved, and I…couldn’t stop myself. I fell for you a long time ago, Kyrie. I’ve banjaxed any chance of a relationship between us in every conceivable fecking way, but I won’t let you and the Arcanaeum fall because of it.”
The words fall out of him in a rush, leaving the space between us barren and cold. That was more of a eulogy than a confession of love. I’m not surprised. Leo’s affection is a death sentence, but not in the way he fears.
Has he thought this through? He’s an astute man. He must have. Yet it still begs the question…
“Even if it means handing us both to Mathias Ackland?” I shouldn’t sound so fragile. I hate myself for it.
His glacial eyes melt with sorrow as he pins me with them at last. “It won’t get that far.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I want to rage at him that it already has. What he’s doing is a self-fulfilling prophecy. In choosing Mathias, he’s actively working to destroy both the Arcanaeum and me as surely as if the magic had obliterated us both.
In fact, I’m sure the ensorcellment would be kinder.
Mathias will ask for something in return—if he hasn’t already. Something small. Innocuous. Or maybe he won’t ask for anything. Maybe he’ll simply use the moment when Leo is vulnerable to sneak some sinister spells beneath his skin.
A Trojan horse.
One I can’t banish thanks to his connection to the Arcanaeum.
Magic, I feel sick.
“I won’t let him hurt you,” Leo vows, as if reading my thoughts. “That’s why?—”
“I completed my work on the degenerated runeform,” Iinterrupt, because he should at least have all of the options. “I just finished rounding up enough arcanists to break it. Benny, Pierce, Jasper, and Dakari are all waiting downstairs and willing to help. Or you can choose others.”
Choose Mathias.
His mouth drops open, and I summon the four neatly drawn-out glyphs to float in front of him.
“I will provide the same service to any Ó Rinn who asks. If you give me the final runeform, I’ll work on yours as well, but I no longer wish to see you. Frankly, I’d prefer you no longer attended the Arcanaeum at all.”
For safety and for myself.
Yes, it’s dangerous having someone bonded to me out there, but it’s less dangerous than his coming and going so freely when I no longer know whose side he’s on.
Defeat and anger war in his expression as he tries again. “Kyrie?—”
“It’s not up for discussion. You’re more than welcome to let Mathias Ackland and his disciples use their magic on you, and blindly trust that they’ll do nothing more than?—”
“Oh, like Dakari wouldn’t take advantage if he could!” His voice rises.
“HE IS NOT YOUR ENEMY!” I yell back, jolting to my feet as the tether on my patience finally snaps. The entire room trembles before I manage to find a semblance of calm. “Dakari Talcott is just as much an outcast from his family as the rest of you, and I will not listen to you slandering him again.”
Without meaning to, I slip back into my ghost form, relaxing incrementally as the heat boiling in my veins subsides and the lump in my throat disappears. Like this, my anger is intellectual, manageable. Already, I regret yelling, but now isn’t the time to apologise. So I simply stand there, glaring at him as I wait for him to argue.
A heartbeat passes, Leo’s jaw clenching and unclenching.
“So that’s it? I tell you I love you and you what? Kick me out?”
“Galileo, what you’ve described isn’t love. If it is, then it’s misguided and twisted in ways I want no part of.” I pause. “If you loved me, you would never have considered asking the man who tried to murder me for help.”
