“No,” he allowed with a wince. “Certainly not.”
“The past is forgotten.” She placed her hands against his chest, reveling in the feel of him—solid and alive. And here. “Know only this: I love you with all my heart, all my soul.” Her voice broke on the raw truth in her words. “That losing you destroyed me, and I never, never, ever want to feel that way again.”
Magnus stared down at her now, as if shocked by the intensity of her words. “Cleo . . .”
Cleo pulled his face down so his lips could meet hers again. And it was as if the thousand-pound weight that had been attached to her ankle for more than a week, pulling her further into the depths of the ocean, drowning her slowly and painfully, had finally released.
His kiss was everything. So deep and true and perfect.
Magnus picked her up again, his strong arms easily holding her weight as he moved away from the edge of the water.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he breathed against her lips as he pressed her up against the side of the cliff so she could feel every line, every edge of his body against hers. “I swear I will make it up to you, all the horrible things I’ve said and done. My beautiful Cleiona . . . say it again, what you said just now.”
She almost smiled. “I think you heard me.”
“Don’t tease,” he growled, his gaze intense. “Say it again.”
“I love you, Magnus. Truly and madly. Forever and ever,” she whispered, hungry for his kiss again. Starving for it. “And I need you . . . Now. Here.”
She’d already begun to loosen the ties of his shirt, desperate to feel his bare skin against hers with no barrier between them.
His mouth was on hers again, desperate and hungry. Magnus groaned deep in his throat as Cleo ran her fingernails up his chest, pulling his shirt over his shoulders. He slid his hands beneath the edge of her embroidered skirt before he froze, his lips parting from hers.
A deep frown creased his brow. “Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“We can’t do this,” he whispered.
A breath caught in her chest. “Why not?”
“The curse.”
For a moment, Cleo had no idea what he meant. But then she remembered, and a small smile parted her lips. “There is no curse.”
“What?”
“Your grandmother made that story up to deceive your father, to explain why my mother died in childbirth. But it’s not true. There’s no witch’s curse on me. It was all a lie.”
Magnus didn’t move. He studied her for several moments as he held her, pressed up against the cliff’s side, their faces at the same level—eye to eye.
“No curse,” he whispered, and his lips curved into a smile.
“None at all.”
“And the Kindred magic within you . . .”
“It’s a big problem, but not at this exact moment.”
“So we can deal with it later.”
She nodded. “Yes, later.”
“Are you certain?”
“Completely certain.”
“Good.”
This time when Magnus kissed her, there was no restraint. No stopping or waiting, no doubt or fear. There was only this exquisite moment that Cleo wanted to last forever, finally reunited with her dark prince.
CHAPTER 15
MAGNUS
AURANOS
Magnus knew they should have returned to the palace hours ago.
But they hadn’t.
Instead, they watched the sun sink into the horizon in the west, turning the sky shades of purple, pink, and orange.
“I like it here,” he said, his fingers threaded into Cleo’s long golden hair. “It’s officially my favorite place in all of Auranos. And this rock at my back . . . my favorite rock in all of Mytica.”
Cleo nodded, nestling closer to his side. “It’s a good rock.”
He took her left hand in his, tracing the blue lines that spread from the water magic symbol on her palm. “I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I.”
“But you said you’re in no distress.”
“I said it. I meant it. But . . .”
“But what?”
“But . . .” she began. “It is a problem.”
“An understatement, certainly.”
“I want to figure out how to use this water magic, but I can’t. It doesn’t work that way. At least, not that I’ve discovered yet.”
Magnus remembered stumbling through the forest that dark night, coming upon the campfire of the fire Kindred.
“I saw Kyan,” he said.
Cleo gasped and pulled away so that she could look into his eyes. “When?”
“After . . . the grave.” He’d already told her some of what he’d gone through, not wanting to dwell on the darker moments. She knew his father had given him the bloodstone and that if he hadn’t, Magnus would be only a memory now. “He let me believe he was still Nic for a while, like he was toying with me. He wanted me to tell you that when he arrives, you need to join him. I would have torn him apart right then, but he looked so much like Nic . . .”
“He is Nic,” Cleo said, her voice pained. “For a moment, right after it happened, I nearly stabbed him in the heart—even knowing it would kill Nic. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m so grateful that Ashur stopped me.”
That sounded like something the Kraeshian prince would do. “Of course he did.”
“I’ll never go with Kyan,” she said, shaking her head. “Not for any reason.”
Magnus’s chest tightened at the thought of losing her. “He was going to brand me, somehow, making me into his slave with magic so I’d do as he said. He reached for me and . . . stopped. Something stopped him, and it gave me the chance to escape.”
“What was it?” she asked, breathless.
He tried to remember that dark night full of pain and confusion. “I don’t know. I thought it might have been Ashur, that he’d found some magic to fight against the Kindred, but it wasn’t him. Still, something helped me get away.”
“Could it have been Nic himself? Fighting against Kyan somehow?”
“Possibly,” he allowed. But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if it could have something to do with the bloodstone. Lucia had been repelled by its magic.
Perhaps Kyan felt the same.
Still, Cleo, with the water Kindred within her, seemed fine being close to him with this kind of magic—dark magic, as Lucia called it—on his finger.
Cleo shook her head. “To think, our troubles used to consist of a battle for the throne. It seems so inconsequential now.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say entirely inconsequential,” he said. “It will be nice when every trace of Amara Cortas leaves this kingdom.”
“I forgot all about her for a moment.”
“So did I.” He kissed her forehead, threading his fingers through her sun-warmed, silky hair. “We will find a way to save Nic, I promise we will. You and Nic and Olivia and even Taran.” He grimaced. “If we must.”
Cleo laughed nervously, burying her face against Magnus’s chest. “Taran is trying to be strong, but I know he’s terrified about losing control of his life like this.”
“I have no doubt that he is.” Magnus knew he’d feel exactly the same.