“I hope he is pleased you will be home soon, though I will be devastated to see you go.” There’s the same teasing tone as always, the smug smile. “You know, I was thinking…”
“What?” I ask, taking a step back. None of his thoughts or plans have meant good news for me so far.
“Why bother making a show of our breakup? Perhaps you could humor me with just one little run-through of what our nuptials would look like?” He reaches to cup his hand in minebut falls short, letting his fingers brush past mine as if I’m a ghost.
Somehow the pair of us have begun to walk, as the conversation turns into something I hope won’t become an argument. We pass the dining room, Magnus keeping his voice low all the while walking me down the long hallway to his quarters.
“Furthermore…” he says with a frantic energy I don’t like, as we enter his room—presumably so we can speak more privately, “seeing as you and your lover now reside in the mortal realm, consider this! We get married and fake your death. I will be in deep mourning as far as the court is concerned and—”
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
“You’re just going to keep doing this, aren’t you?” I gasp, stepping away. I’ve once again let my guard down. I’d like to blame the bond or Magnus’s charm, butI’mthe problem. Despite discovering a new power within myself, I still just want him to be… well,good.
And he’s too desperate and lonely to be anything but the bad guy.
He made me feel like I was “someone who finally understood” him, and in some ways, maybe I do.
“Doing what?”
“Are you really going to break the deal tonight? Or are you just going to keep finding reasons to ask me to stay?”
“What in the realms are you talking about?” He has the audacity to look genuinely confused, but it’s all a part of the show. The nervous twitch of his lips confirms it. “I am simply offering a way out that suits both of us.”
“How exactly does faking my death do that?” I say, and as expected, Magnus does not have an answer.
I thought I was starting to reallygethim—that there was something under the surface I could see myself in. The mask, the fear, the worries about being perfect all the time. But he’s not some burnt out influencer like I was…
He’s so much worse.
“Is it wrong that, even as just friends, a room feels better with you in it?” he whispers. It should feel like a compliment but, instead, my body wants to stretch and bend and claw. Still, Magnus persists. “If you leave, he will never let me see you again…”
“Stop thinking about what Moth will allow—and think about what I want.” I draw in a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I’m my own person; if I wanted to be friends with Magnus, I would find a way to do that while still respecting my relationship…
But how can I want anything to do with a man who wants to keep me in his pocket, the way I do my broken Mothman keychain?
He’s right. After this, I’ll never see him again. Not because I’m forbidden, but because how could I ever want to? From everything I’ve seen, his court adores him; he has Gil. I know I’ve been the closest thing he’s had to a new friend in a while but—
“What is it in that room filled with vampires you’re so afraid of?” I snap, unable to piece it together, but my thoughts whirl in a frantic mess.
“I am not afraid of them—”
“I told you things.” Goosebumps rise across my back and shoulders. “You made me feel—”
Heard in some moments, ignored in others, but I should have known better than to let myself be vulnerable with him when he never intended to release me—not really.
“Perhaps we break this bond and create a new one—bound to visit each other once a year or—” He frowns. “Don’t look at me like that. I will let you go; I am just offeringoptions.”
My claws begin to extend. God, it’s getting harder and harder to keep myself together with every lie that passes his lips. The blood in my veins seems to vibrate as it courses through me, like I’m filled to the brim with soda that has been violently shaken.
“Heather, Heather, my sweet. Please.” His gasp is sharp, almost pained as he takes a large step backward. “You cannot allow the monster inside you to take shape—not tonight. This is our last night together.”
“It might be your last night in general.” I focus on the way the tiles of the floor crack just slightly beneath his feet.
“No!” he hisses, his sharp canines on full display. “Everything I said to you last night was true. If I could keep you by my side as a confidant, I would always—”
I stomp, the weight of my leg suddenly heavier than if it was simply clad in a pair of heels. I tense and feel talons—my talons—scraping the old stone floor.
