He scrubbed the fingers of both hands through his white-blond hair and forced an exhale. He could feel himself flushing, though. He continued to avoid their eyes when he finally spoke.
“What happened?” he asked.
His voice came out quiet, dangerous even now.
Alaric’s hand dropped from his own neck.
“Elysia,” he said, matter-of-fact. “Screaming like the building was on fire. Luc and I were all set to sleep downstairs, to give the two of you some privacy, but then she started screaming bloody murder and we felt obliged to intervene.” He glanced at Mocking, who shrugged in general agreement. Alaric looked back at Caelum, a frown furrowing his brow. “She says you two were snogging, then something happened. She wasn’t really surewhat, but it burned her, she said, pretty badly. It also knocked her out…”
He trailed, and Caelum got the impression the mage was flustered.
Caelum’s own mind had already wound backwards to its own version of events. He remembered being with Elysia on the bed and felt his face heat. Gods. He’d been trying to fuck her, hadn’t he? She’d gotten him mostly naked, and put her mouth on him, and he’d lost control over his magic. He hurt her.
Fuck. He’d seen her go down, and assumed he’d killed her.
That must’ve sent him into some kind of mental breakdown.
No wonder Elysia freaked out.
“It’s fine,” Caelum blurted. “It was just an accident.”
Luc and Alaric exchanged looks.
“Did you lose control over your magic?” Luc asked, matter of fact. He folded his arms. “You were convulsing when we came up here. She thinks she was only out for a few seconds, but she said your eyes rolled up, and she couldn’t get you to respond.”
“A magical embolism,” Alaric blurted.
Caelum looked at him, his jaw hardening. “What?”
“I’ve read about them,” Greythorne added, apologetic. “I’m guessing you had some kind of magical reaction with Warrington, knocked her out, then panicked when you realized you’d hurt her. It’s called a magical embolism. I’ve read about them. An extreme emotional response can trigger your magic to turn in on itself. It can cause seizures, migraines, blackouts, even hallucinations. Trauma can cause it. Like something in your mind gets triggered, and it’s too much all at once, causing a magical reaction. It happens to people sometimes if they’ve been in wars. Or simply witnessed a horrible death––”
“He was trying to help you,” Luc added, his voice a touch cooler than Greythorne’s had been. “Why did you attack him?”
“He may not have been able to help it,” Alaric offered.
Caelum looked between them. “Did I hurt her badly? Elysia?”
Luc and Alaric exchanged looks again.
“No,” Luc said, his voice subdued. “No, I don’t think so. She said not. You might’ve scared her more than anything.”
Alaric continued to stare at Caelum like he was a puzzle Alaric wanted to solve. Those intelligent hazel eyes drank him in somberly, his expression serious.
“Have you hurt people before with your magic?” Greythorne asked cautiously.
Caelum’s jaw hardened.
“Only on purpose,” he sneered.
A blatant lie, but they wouldn’t know that.
He looked between them, feeling his face grow taut as he took in their curious and wary expressions. “Were you planning on spreading this around?” he asked next, coldly. “Bones heir tried to kill meor, better still,Bones heir rapes girl in dorms?Tell everyone what I looked like when you walked in? Like some kind of drooling nutter, or mental deficient?”
Isis’s tit, he sounded like his father.
Still, he needed them to keep their fucking mouths shut.
He didn’t have money. Did he have threats?
