“I’m sorry. I did. I won’t try to deny it.”
“Was it worth it, Cassius?”
At first, he shakes his head. But then he looks deep into Claudia’s teary, blown-out eyes. He releases a stumbling breath. “Do you want me to be honest?”
“Of course I do.”
“Even if I sound like a selfish bastard?”
She nods.
He sighs, running both of his hands through his hair. A thin tear slips down his cheek. “Forgive my brashness.” He sounds drunk. The sobering anxiety from their fight with Marcheriemust be wearing off. The high from the recital and the cherry nectar has regained control of his mind. “Blame Dolericym and the wine for my tongue, but yes, it would’ve been worth it if you won.”
“You’re right. That does make you sound like a selfish bastard.”
“I’m sorry, Claudia.” Another tear falls. “I hate that I couldn’t tell you the truth. I hate that Marcherie went mad and you got hurt. And I hate how this has shaken your faith that I truly care for you, because I do. I’ve cared for you from the moment I saw you. Some nights, I wanted you so badly that I would stand in the courtyard and watch your silhouette dance across the curtains in your room, and I would dream of seeing you, of touching you, of simply being near you. But you have to understand—my curse is cruel. It’s torturous. It’s driven many of my family members out of their minds, trying any and every way to possibly commune with the gods. So to have you, a beautiful, powerful witch who can somehow defy all that I’ve ever known…” He looks up to the sky, searching for the right words. “It’s life-changing. It’s all I’ve prayed for. It’s everything I’ve seen in my dreams but been too afraid to believe.” He reaches for her slowly, as though afraid she’ll bite him. She stays still and lifts her chin, barely inviting him in. He slides one hand around the curve of her waist. She doesn’t protest. His other hand moves up her arm and settles in the dip where her neck meets her shoulder. “I can’t let you go. But I’ve done everything wrong, and you’re looking at me like you hate me, and it wasn’t worth it because I let you down and didn’t help you secure the win you deserved.” His forehead touches hers. His face is wet and warm. “I wish I could take it all back.”
Reaching up, she gently wipes his cheek. Her nose scrapes against his. She whispers, “What if I did win?”
His fingers twitch at her neck. “Your ribbon is gone.”
“No, it’s not.” She threads her fingers in her hair and pulls out the ribbon with one smooth tug. “I tricked them,” she says whileshe ties it at her neck. “They only took a scrap of my dress, just like the one you used to tie up my wound. I’m still very much alive in this game.” She straightens the red ribbon at her waist. “And I’ve killed an Agamemnon.” Twisting out of his grip, she walks forward. Plucking Marcherie’s gold ribbon from the ground, she says, “And a stag, too.” Eyes on Cassius’s throat at his green ribbon, she says, “All that’s left is an Artemis.”
He stays perfectly still while she saunters toward him. Reaching up, she lightly tugs at his ribbon. “Is that what you want, Cassius? Do you want me to kill you so I’ll win?”
“Yes.” His body is shaking, his voice heavy and urgent. “I need you to kill me, Star Girl.”
“Then I believe you know exactly what to do.”
“What is it? Anything.”
Her hand slides across his chest, up to his neck. She grabs his ribbon like a collar and pulls him close to her. She grits her teeth. “Beg.”
To her shock, his eyes lose every tinge of dominance and fall to a desperate, wistful stare. He drops to his knees.
“Please, Claudia. There aren’t words strong enough to express”—his breathing is rapid, and he puts his hands over his heart—“how much I need this. How much I need you.”
She lets out a warm, stumbling breath. She didn’t expect to enjoy this as much as she is. Turning her back to him, she walks a few feet forward and spins back around. “Crawl to me.”
He moves with the grace of a lion, and when he reaches her feet, he slides his hands up the backs of her legs, under her torn dress. Fingers curled around her knees, he kisses his way up her bare legs, begging in between.
“Please. I need you to do this for me. And after, I need you back in my room. I have craved your touch from the moment you slapped me, when I realized I would do anything to get your hands on me again. Since our game started, I have thought of nothing else. If I can’t have you, I could—” His throat bobs. He whimpers.
Cassius MacLeodwhimpers.
“It might kill me if I can’t have you tonight, Claudia Jolicoeur.”
He’s desperate. He’s pathetic.
He’s never been more attractive.
Leaning down, she unties his ribbon and slowly tugs it off his neck. With her hand tight around his throat, she presses her lips to his and breathes the wordyesinto his mouth.
DOLERICYM
Dolericym, bless me with the muse of constant suffering, for it is the root of all art.
Vincent Rossi, Cygnus Valedictorian of Musices 1166
