Alaric:Stalker.
Magnus:Don’t tell me you’re not flattered.
Magnus:You miss me yet?
Long pause.
Alaric:Magnus, we can’t keep doing this.
Magnus:Didn’t ask if we could. Asked if you missed me.
Another pause. He’s probably hiding his phone, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he does when he’s trying not to say something true.
Magnus:Tell me what hotel you’re at.
The dots blink. Stop. Blink again.
Alaric:Should I?
Magnus:You afraid Kyle will find out?
I wait, phone heavy in my hand. Then the message drops—just the name of a hotel downtown. No room number. No emoji. Nothing else. That’s all I need.
The city fades behind me in a smear of light. The world narrows to the hum of tires and the rhythm of the wipers cutting through drizzle. Every mile feels like diving deeper into something I should’ve left buried.
The hotel’s quiet when I get there. Fancy, sterile, the kind of place that smells like polished marble and air-freshener trying too hard. I park a block away, hood up, hands stuffed in my pockets.
When I message himI’m here, the reply comes after a long five minutes.
Alaric:Give me a second.
So I wait.
The lobby is nearly empty when the elevator doors open and he appears. He’s dressed down—gray sweatpants, Titans hoodie, hood pulled halfway up—but even like this, he looks like money and control. No one else is with him.
For a second, I think he’s going to tell me to leave. Instead, he grabs my wrist and drags me toward a side hallway.
“Come on,” he mutters.
We duck through a side door markedEmployees Only. It’s quiet—too quiet. He pushes open another door, and suddenly we’re in a private lobby bathroom. Marble, gold trim, the kind of place no one ever actually uses.
He locks the door behind us.
“This is insane,” he says. “You can’t just—show up like this.”
I lean against the counter, studying him. “You could’ve ignored my message.”
He shakes his head, frustration sharpening every word. “You think this is a game?”
I don’t reply, just level him with a look.
He exhales hard, pacing. “Magnus, we need to stop whatever this is.”
“That’s why you came down here alone?” I tilt my head and smile. “To break things off with me?”
His jaw tightens. He looks away, then back at me, eyes bright with something I can’t quite name—anger, guilt, want. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”
Frustration finally swallows me whole. He can’t keep acting like he’s not playing the game, too. “I’m not doing anything you don’t want, Alaric. If you don’t want to be near me, say the word. You don’t want me to kiss you again? Tell me. I’ll never touch you unless it’s to beat your ass on the ice. But I want to know if you feel this consuming hunger for me like I do for you. Because I can’t get you out of my fucking head.”
