Erin leaned back in her chair.
“I have been told you are not short of admirers. We get daily news from Blood City too.”
Magnus cracked a smile.
“Yeah. It comes with the title of prince.”
“You do not want to choose from those admirers.”
“Where is this going, Erin?” Magnus asked.
His smile had faded.
Erin set down her cup.
“Well, I just think that if you tried to see someone else, you wouldn’t be so hung up on this mate thing.”
“This mate thing,” Magnus repeated.
“You know what I mean.”
“I am beginning to suspect I do not.”
Erin exhaled, already irritated by his tone.
“You have admirers. Beautiful ones. Powerful women from important families. Surely one of them could make you happy if you gave her the opportunity.”
“You remember that I am a vampire?” Magnus asked.
“Half vampire.”
“Wrong,” Magnus said.
“I am a trueblood, Erin. I simply inherited a few traits from my mother. We cannot break mate bonds,” he continued.
“We cannot reject one mate and choose another the way werewolves can. For truebloods, the bond is not an engagement we can cancel when it becomes inconvenient.”
“Inconvenient?” Erin repeated.
“You think that is what this is for me?”
“I think you are speaking about my bond as though it is an obsession I might cure by fucking women.”
“I’m suggesting you live your life!”
“You are my life.”
Erin looked away first.
“I think it’s a good thing the Moon Goddess has stopped bonding mates…It’s ridiculous. People should have choices. Perhaps your Blood Goddess should retire from the task too,” Erin added.
“Both of them could take a long holiday somewhere and stop interfering in everyone’s relationships.”
“The goddesses do not make mistakes, that we do all on our own.”
Erin was about to say something then Garrick approached.
Magnus heard him before Erin saw him.
The son of a bitch had excellent timing.
“Garrick…” Erin whispered.
Magnus looked at her and caught the soft tone, full of longing.
It all built a picture Magnus hated looking at but could no longer pretend did not exist.
Garrick stopped beside the table and bowed.
“Your Highnesses…”
The man had nerve.
Magnus would give him that. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
To stand there in front of the prince whose mate he had fucked took courage or stupidity.
Garrick turned to Magnus.
“His Majesty has asked me to bring you to the barracks. He would like you to give the men your blessing.”
“Of course,” Magnus said.
He tried to smile.
It came out thin, but it held.
Garrick stepped behind him, hands moving toward the handles of his wheelchair.
Magnus’ spine stiffened.
“That’s…” He lifted one hand quickly, stopping him before contact.
“That’s alright. I can manage.”
Erin’s face turned worried.
“Magnus…” She understood the pride, the humiliation.
She felt it too on most days.
Magnus gave her a small smile.
He placed both hands on his wheels and rolled himself away from the table, each movement painfully dignified.
He did not look back until he reached the balcony doors.
Only then did he realise Garrick had hung back.
Magnus rolled the chair away, his hands firm on the wheels.
The balcony doors opened before him.
Behind him, he could still hear Erin and Garrick not enough to make out words unless he tried, and goddess knew he was done trying.
He had punished himself enough for one morning.
The corridor ahead stretched wide, all black marble, gold-veined walls.
Magnus moved forward slowly, listening for any of his men nearby.
One of Blood City guards had to be somewhere in the guest wing.
Or perhaps one of the palace guards.
Anyone, really.
Anyone except Garrick.
He reached the edge of the ramp and stopped.
It was not a steep descent.
The ramps in the palace were smooth, wide, and cleverly built into the architecture.
The wheel roller at the top of the ramp needed careful alignment.
If he angled the chair wrong, the wheels would catch awkwardly against the guide track.
He adjusted the chair once.
Too far left.
He tried again.
Too far right.
Magnus exhaled, jaw tightening.
A pair of hands closed gently around the handles of his chair.
His head whipped back.
Carys stood behind him.
She offered him a small smile, soft enough not to bruise his pride.
“If you will allow me, Your Highness. I was on my way down anyway.”
He could hear her heartbeat.
A little quick, but not afraid.
Nervous, perhaps.
Embarrassed by her own courage.
She was lying, of course.
She had not been on her way down.
She had followed because she had seen him leave alone and understood more than she should have.
She gave him the dignity of pretending otherwise.
“Thank you,” he said and settled back and allowed her to move the chair down the ramp.
Carys handled it carefully, not making the moment heavier than it already was.
By the time they reached the bottom, Magnus found he could breathe a little easier.
“Breakfast was nice, Carys. Thank you.”
Carys beamed.
“I didn’t make it, Your Majesty. The kitchen did.”
His mouth curved faintly.
“Well, extend my appreciation to the kitchen.”
“of course, your highness.”
They moved the rest of the way in silence.
Carys pushed Magnus through the wide palace corridors with quiet care.
She said nothing, and for that, Magnus was grateful.
The palace courtyard was alive with movement.
Magnus waited.
Every second carved deeper into his patience.
He sat there beneath the open sky, one hand resting over the arm of his chair, the other curled tightly in his lap.
He was not angry because Garrick was late.
No.
He was angry because he knew why.
He had left Erin and Garrick on that balcony.
He had heard enough last night to understand the shape of their relationship.
Finally, Garrick appeared.
He walked quickly, but not quickly enough to undo the insult.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Your Highness.”