Born to Endless Night (Tales from the Shadowhunter Academy, #9)

“Can I tell you something?” Magnus asked. “Nobody ever wanted me to marry them before.”


He’d had other loves, but none of them had ever asked, and he had known, had sensed with a cold, sinking feeling, that it would be useless, not to ask them. Whether it was because they did not feel they could promise until death did them part when Magnus would not die, because they took Magnus lightly or thought, being immortal, that he took them lightly. He had never known the reasons they did not want to marry him, but there it was: There had been lovers willing to die with him, but nobody had ever been willing to swear to live with him every day for as long as they both had to live.

Nobody until this Shadowhunter.

“I never asked anyone to marry me before,” said Alec. “So that’s a no, then?”

He laughed as he asked, a soft laugh, worn but happy. Alec always tried to give those he loved a path or an open door; he tried to give those he loved anything they wanted. They sat there, leaning against their baby’s crib together.

Magnus lifted his hand, and Alec caught it in midair, their fingers linking. Magnus’s rings flashed and Alec’s scars glowed in the moonlight. Both of them held on.

“It’s yes, one day,” Magnus said. “For you, Alec, it’s always yes.”

*

After classes the next day Simon sat in his dank dungeon room, resisted the almost irresistible temptation to go find Isabelle, and mustered up his courage.

He marched up the many flights of stairs and knocked on the door of Alec and Magnus’s rooms.

Magnus answered the door. He was wearing jeans and a loose, frayed T-shirt, holding the baby, and he looked very tired.

“How did you know he’d just woken up from a nap?” Magnus asked as he opened the door.

“Uh, I didn’t,” said Simon.

Magnus blinked at him, in the slow way that tired people did, as if they had to think deeply about blinking. “Oh, my apologies,” he said. “I thought you were Maryse.”

“Isabelle’s mother is here?” Simon exclaimed.

“Shhhh!” said Magnus. “She might hear you.”

The baby was grizzling, not quite crying but making a sound like a small, unhappy tractor. He wiped his damp face against Magnus’s shoulder.

“I’m really sorry to interrupt,” said Simon. “I was wondering if I could have a word alone with Alec.”

“Alec’s sleeping,” Magnus said flatly, and began to close the door.

Alec’s voice rang out before the door was quite closed. He sounded as if he was midyawn. “No, I’m not. I’m awake. I can talk to Simon.” He appeared in the doorway, pulling the door back open. “Go out and take a long walk. Get some fresh air. It’ll wake you up.”

“I’m great,” said Magnus. “I don’t need sleeping. Or waking. I feel great.”

The baby waved his fat hands in Alec’s direction, the gestures loose and uncoordinated but unmistakable. Alec looked startled but smiled, a sudden, unexpectedly nice smile, and reached out to take the baby in his arms. As soon as he did, the baby stopped grizzling.

Magnus waved his finger in the baby’s face. “I find your attitude insulting,” he informed him. He kissed Alec briefly. “I won’t be gone long.”

“Take as long as you need,” said Alec. “I have this feeling my parents might be coming to help very shortly.”

Magnus left, and Alec stepped away from the door, going to stand at the window with the baby.

“So,” said Alec. His shirt was rumpled, clearly slept in, and he was bouncing a baby. Simon felt bad even bothering him. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I’m really sorry again about the other day,” Simon told him.

Then he wondered if it was terrible that he had referenced sex in front of Alec’s baby. Maybe Simon was just doomed to mortally offend Alec, over and over again. Forever.