“Tell me to leave.”
“You need to leave.”
He smiles, something sharp and dangerous. Something that sends a thrill down my spine. “I will. After you answer me.”
I meet his gaze, and for a second neither of us breathes. The question hangs there, heavy as gravity.
Finally, I give in—not because I want to, but because the silence between us demands something to fill it. “Yes,” I say quietly. “He kissed me.”
Something flickers in his eyes—jealousy, anger, maybe both. He moves before I can think, his hand pulling me by the back of my neck. His mouth is hungry against mine. A whimper escapes my throat as his tongue slides into my mouth.
He tastes like whiskey and cherries. My hands pull his hips towards mine, feeling the length of him against me.
Magnus breaks the kiss, his mouth trailing down my neck. “That picture supposed to make me stop thinking about you?” he asks. His voice is low, frayed around the edges. “Because it didn’t. It made me walk here in the rain just to claim you again.”
He bites the base of my neck harshly before licking the hurt.
“Until you tell me to stop, until you tell me you don’t want me, you’remine.” His mouth brushes my ear.
“You can lie to yourself all you want, but you know it. I see it every time you look at me.” He kisses me again, mumbling against my mouth. “Shit, you’re driving me crazy. I can’t think. I can’t breathe unless I see you.”
The honesty in his voice makes me want to melt. “Magnus...”
He captures my mouth again. I moan as he presses closer to me.
Magnus forces my chin to meet his hungry eyes. “I swear to god if you let him fuck you.”
“I didn’t,” I gasp.
A look of relief spreads on his face. His hand is no longer rough but caressing my face like he’s trying to memorize every mark. “Good boy.”
Before I can speak, he turns and walks away. His footsteps echo until the sound fades into the hum of the lights.
I stay there, frozen, heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my fingertips. The cold air seeps into my skin, but inside I’m burning.
He’s gone, but the scent of him lingers—sharp and electric, like ozone before a storm. I drag a hand down my face, trying tosteady my breathing. The world feels tilted, off-kilter, as if I’ve stepped out of reality and can’t find my way back.
I want to be furious. I want to feel violated, insulted, anything but what’s actually curling low in my gut.
He was jealous. Possessive. Wild.
And part of me—some reckless, traitorous part—liked it.
8
Magnus
Ishould feel worse about showing up at his place that night.
I don’t.
Okay, maybe a little.
But only because I was drunk enough that the drive home’s a blur, and because I saw the way he looked at me when I cornered him—half furious, half shaking, like I’d peeled something raw open inside him.
He said I needed to leave. He didn’t tell me to never come back.
The part that keeps replaying isn’t what I said, it’s what he didn’t. The silence between us was an answer. The way his breath caught when I stepped close was another. I could still smell his cologne on my hands when I woke up the next morning, head pounding, heart still hammering.
