“Goddammit, Magnus.” Evander dropped back onto the bed.
“I don’t know whose stubbornness you inherited,” he muttered.
“Our father’s or your mother’s.”
Luna Sinclair Dragos had been fire.
The woman could bring the king of Blood City to his knees in one second flat, and Damien would still look up at her like he had won the damn world.
“I sent a message to father in Silver City. I told him you would be fighting in the werewolf war.”
“It’s not like he will care, Magnus,” Evander sighed.
“Eternity is a long time to live without your mate, Evander,” Magnus said quietly.
“He had her for too short a time. I don’t think he will get over it.”
“His sons need him,” Evander said.
“Yeah,” Magnus said softly.
“Yes, we do.”
Magnus inhaled slowly, then forced his voice lighter.
“Come on, get some rest. You have to be fit for tomorrow.”
“You head back to Blood City immediately. While I am gone, do not let the council…” He stopped, then waved a tired hand.
“You know what, forget it. I forgot who I was talking to.”
Magnus raised a brow.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning the council fears you more than me, and you know it.”
“As they should.”
Evander huffed.
Magnus let his head fall back against the pillow.
Tomorrow, his brother would go to war.
Tonight, they still had this comfort.
“I’m the best regent you will ever get.” Magnus chuckled.
Evander was glad he could still get a laugh out of Magnus.
It was not much.
Barely more than a quiet chuckle.
But it was something.
If laughter was all Evander could give him, then perhaps he had not completely failed as a brother.
*****
Carys moved briskly around the small table on the balcony overlooking the palace gardens, arranging breakfast.
Erin and Magnus sat across from each other beneath a broad white canopy, separated by silverware, fresh fruit, warm pastries.
Carys placed a plate of eggs before Erin.
Magnus watched her over the rim of his coffee cup.
She sat painfully straight, shoulders tight beneath her dress, hands folded in her lap.
Her expression was carefully blank, but he could hear the quick rhythm of her heart.
Magnus took a slow sip.
Her gaze lifted to his.
“One I cannot refuse.”
Magnus lowered his cup.
“I’m not forcing you.”
“My father is forcing me on your behalf.”
He looked briefly toward the open balcony doors.
“Yeah,” Magnus said, rubbing his thumb along the handle of his cup.
“Sorry about that.”
Erin’s expression shifted slightly, perhaps because she had expected him to defend the arrangement.
He did not.
Magnus had spent the night hearing truths he would have preferred to remain ignorant of.
He had no appetite left for pretending Erin’s resistance was temporary.
Still, he wanted this.
One quiet breakfast.
One hour where she did not look ready to escape through the nearest window.
“But how about we just enjoy the meal,” he continued.
“You don’t even have to talk to me. Just be, Erin.”
Erin sighed, and some of the stiffness left her shoulders.
“I’m worried about the war.” She sounded tired.
Frightened, even.
“We all are,” he said.
“What chance do you think we have with the dragonians?”
Magnus set his coffee down.
The easy answer would have been everything will be fine.
But Erin had not asked him for comfort.
She had asked for truth.
“I am hopeful,” he said.
“My brother is leading Blood City’s army, and I will not repeat this in his presence, but he is very, very capable.”
A faint smile touched Erin’s lips.
“Afraid he will become arrogant?”
Magnus chuckled and continued, his tone becoming serious again.
“The dragonians are aggressive, but they have grown careless. They believe the werewolves are weakened. They believe the Moon Goddess has abandoned you. That confidence can be used against them. I think the war will end this time…But if you are asking whether everyone will return safe and sound, then no. I cannot lie to you.”
“Comforting.”
“I could lie, if you prefer.”
“No.”
“Good. I am not particularly convincing when lying. Evander always hated that whenever he got himself into the trouble.” This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
A breeze swept across the balcony, stirring the ends of Erin’s hair.
Magnus watched the worry settle back over her face.
“Where is your sister?” he asked.
“I haven’t seen her around.”
Erin reached for a pastry and tore off a piece without eating it.
“She has been at the barracks helping out with the soldiers and training.”
“She is not going to war, is she?”
“Oh, no,” Erin said.
“She just likes showing off her fighting skills.” She rolled her eyes and tore another piece from the pastry on her plate, though she still did not eat it.
Magnus heard the faint edge beneath her tone.
He noticed how her shoulders tightened when she spoke of her sister, how her fingers reduced the innocent pastry to crumbs.
He chose not to mention it.
“You look lovely.”
Her gaze lifted from the remains of her pastry.
“Oh. Thank you.”
A second of awkward silence followed.
Then her eyes moved over him.
Magnus had dressed more casually, a fitted dark shirt, a jacket.
“You look…” she began.
Magnus waited.
“Well, you do look good.”
His brows rose.
“You think so?”
Erin immediately looked as though she regretted speaking.
“Carys thinks so,” she said, pointing toward her maid.
Carys stood several feet away near the balcony doors.
Her entire body froze.
The poor woman’s eyes widened with horror.
If the marble floor had opened beneath her feet at that exact moment, Carys would have thanked every goddess available and jumped willingly into the darkness.
Magnus glanced toward her.
Carys lowered her eyes quickly.
“My lady,” she whispered, visibly betrayed.
Erin smiled sweetly.
“What? You said he gets dreamier every time you see him.”
Carys made a strangled sound.
Magnus fought a laugh.
“It is nice to know I attract the attention of someone close to you.”