Within These Wicked Walls(63)

Magnus leaned in my direction, his arm on the small table between us. “If you need me to fight Jember, I will.”

I smirked slightly. “He’d definitely kill you. He has no morals when it comes to a fight.”

“He’s a cad who denied you basic human affection, so it’s worth a try.”

“Affection isn’t so important when you’ve lived your entire life without it,” I said, finally having the stomach to look at him. “And you don’t know him, so you don’t get to call him names. He raised me. I turned out fine. So, keep your mouth shut about him.”

He raised a sly eyebrow at me. “What’ll you give me to keep my mouth shut?”

I felt a vein twitching in my temple. “I’m already cleansing your castle. I don’t owe you anything else.”

“It’ll have to be something on top of that, since I’m also already paying you to cleanse my castle.”

“I’m tempted to punch you in the face. I can simply not.”

I straightened my posture the longer he looked at me. There were two chair arms and a table between us, but somehow I felt too close. I should’ve stood. I should’ve left. Not because I was afraid, but … my God. Why was I trembling like this? This was not what I’d expected at all. “Don’t look at me with those sinful eyes,” I said, as coldly as I could manage.

“Sinful?” He slouched forward, gazing into the fire for a moment before looking back at me. “Since when is desiring someone a sin?”

“Desiring—” My jaw snapped shut. He couldn’t be saying what I thought he was saying … “Since when? Since forever. It’s called lust.”

“Lust might be part of it, but it’s too crude a word for my feelings for you.”

“Lust should be nowhere near your feelings for me.” Anger and hurt swelled up in my gut, and I stood as he opened his mouth to speak, cutting him off. “I was right, after all. You do intend to only use me for pleasure.”

“What?” Magnus looked up at me, still leaning forward in his chair, that deep and wild look still in his eyes paired with something like nervous concern. “Sit down, Andromeda—”

“No.” I took a step back to prove my point.

“Does it shock you? To be desired?”

“I’m not beautiful like Kelela.”

He looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “I don’t care about that. And since when do you?”

“I suppose I just…” I swallowed. Cleared my throat. “I wasn’t raised to acknowledge … attraction … of that sort.”

“But do you feel attraction of that sort, even if you choose not to acknowledge it?”

“You shouldn’t ask me such things,” I said, my face burning.

“As I said, that’s only part of my feelings, and the least important at that.” Magnus grinned the slightest bit. “Will you sit down, Andromeda?” He gestured to the chair. “Please?”

I sat without thinking, without questioning it. This conversation wasn’t going to lead to a noble place, and yet I wasn’t doing anything to stop it.

God, save me. What am I doing?

“How can you desire me, Magnus?” I blurted into the silence. Humiliation made me bite my tongue, a stuck sob not allowing me to speak for a moment and, God bless him, Magnus waited for me to get myself together. “How can you feel anything for me after the way I’ve treated you? I don’t deserve it.”

Magnus sighed heavily, shoving his hair back as he sat up. I watched him stare at the fire for a moment, and then he looked at me again. “You’re a rare thing, Andromeda. A masterpiece. You deserve the world.”

“But I’m not,” I said, shaking my head, feeling my throat burning with rising tears. “I’ve shown such unforgiveness toward you over one tiny mistake.”

“Your reaction was just.” Magnus reached over and took my hand, and I shifted so I could take his in both of mine. “Kelela helped me see what it must’ve looked like to you. I’m an absolute blackguard.”

“You have to understand, I don’t trust easily … if at all. I had made myself vulnerable to you. You said you wanted to be with me, and then it came out you were engaged. I felt … betrayed. So, I protected myself by pushing you away.”

“I’m sorry.” He got up quickly and knelt in front of me. “Oh, my little gentle-heart. You had every right. I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorrier.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Are we really going to argue over who’s sorrier?”

“Of course we are,” he said, grinning. “You act like you’ve never met us.” I laughed as he kissed my hands, first the backs, then the palms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to them, and more than anything I wished he’d kiss my lips. Instead he stood, still holding both my hands. “I think I’m going to play a little music. Would you like to join me?”

“You haven’t learned to turn your pages by now?” I teased.

“Am I that transparent?”

“It seems you’re completely hopeless without me.”

“I fear I am.”