“I’ll call and check on him.” Luca grabs his phone off the nightstand and walks into the bathroom.
My back itches. I’m alone with Ciprian, and we’re both studiously ignoring the enclave-sized elephant in the room. Dark circles frame his darker eyes, the kind that come from more than one sleepless night.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he says.
“How am I looking at you?” It’s a bad idea to antagonize him, but I can’t help myself.
“Like I’m about to grow a monster head.” Ciprian points at the closed bathroom door. “That’s your boyfriend’s issue, not mine.”
Snarky motherfucker. I sit up straight, my hands fisting in the blanket. “If you barge into my bedroom looking like shit, I’m going to look,” I tell him. “Why did you let us sleep this long, anyway? What are you plotting?”
Ciprian closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been busy making all the paintings in your apartment crooked—what the fuck do you think? I’ve been racking my brain for the last twelve hours, trying to figure out how to keep you alive.”
He advances on me, and for the first time since I met him, he looks more demon than human. Even with a bitter joke tossed in, Ciprian Casanell is being deadly serious. It scares me.
“I don’t need your help,” I insist, twitching as lie pain shoots through my nerves. My magic is hateful. It makes it nearly impossible to win an argument. “I won’t let you kill me, Ciprian, and if you even think about laying a finger on Luca.”
He groans. “Be so fucking real right now, because there’s no way you don’t know that I’m obsessed with you both. I think about laying a finger or ten on both of you fifteen times a day. That isn’t the problem, hot wings, and it doesn’t make this situation simpler either. You’re in the biggest mess I’ve ever seen.”
Ciprian’s blunt words bring the full force of my guilt roaring tothe surface. My wings tremble, and I force them into my body before they can reveal anything damning.
“It’s my fault,” I whisper, rolling my shoulders to help with the itch. “I never should have gotten involved with any of you; I knew the risk.”
I’m not sure why I tell Ciprian what I’m thinking. He didn’t even ask, I volunteered the information. Even knowing who he is, I want to confide in him. It’s pathological.
“Do your magic,” Ciprian says, planting his hands on his hips.
I blink at him, confused by his exasperated tone. “Why?”
“Because we have a hellish immediate future ahead of us, and I don’t want to have to repeat myself after you inevitably call me a liar.”
I activate my truth runes, too curious to bother arguing. He’s better at it anyway, and I hate to lose. My magic is so near the surface I could probably tell if he was lying without the runes—like when I called Alistair out last night—but this way is foolproof.
Once my skin is crowded with golden marks, I look at Ciprian, raise my eyebrows, and gesture for him to get a move on.
He rolls his eyes. “Here’s the truth, Celine: you’re the best thing to ever happen to Luca. He’s stupidly in love with you, and nothing will ever top the moment you let yourself feel the same for him. Alistair is losing control, and he hates it, but there’s no reality where he regrets getting tangled in your orbit. And as for that himbo angel?—”
“My name is Malach!”
“Yeah, I fucking know that,” Ciprian shouts. “Where was I? Yes, Malach learned English for you, left his realm behind to protect you, and tried to off your fuck buddies. That’s crazy fucking romantic, and you can’t argue with that.”
“It was judgment! And thank you.”
Ciprian smirks. “Whatever. He’s full of shit about that part. I’llbet you a thousand bucks he was trying to create space for his big ass in your bed by eliminating the competition.”
Malach laughs out loud from down the hall, and my mouth drops open.
“Anyway, what I’m saying, Celine, is that no one—me included—regrets meeting you or getting caught in your mess. It’s terrible and complicated, sure, but it’s not your fault. Don’t absorb the weight of inherited bullshit.”
He softens, glancing at the window, then back at me before clearing his throat. “If you take anything positive away from our time together, let it be this: you can find solutions without also tricking yourself into thinking you’re the problem.”
Luca comes out of the bathroom. “I agree with most of that,” he says.
I nod weakly, not sure how to respond. My magic detected no lies. It’s going to take time for me to unpack everything Ciprian said, but I have the strangest urge to give him a hug.
“What did Alistair say?” I ask.
“He wouldn’t answer. I called him half a dozen times. Didn’t stop until he sent me a bullshit text saying he was fine.”
