Immortal Reign(43)

A smile tugged at her lips. Jonas could always make her smile.

“Oh, yes, so lucky.”

“I have no illusions about your feelings for me anymore, princess,” he said. “I know you loved him, that you mourn him. And I’m sorry for your loss. It will be a very long time before that pain goes away.”

Cleo’s throat had quickly become so thick that it was impossible to respond with anything except a nod.

Jonas tentatively reached for her hand. When she didn’t pull away from him, he took it in his and squeezed it. “I am here for you, princess. Today and always. And you need to find a way to control this magic within you by any means possible.”

“I know,” she replied. “I asked Lucia to help me.”

His gaze flicked to hers again. “And what did she say?”

“She said she’d try.”

His brow furrowed. “I should check on her. I haven’t seen her yet today.”

“How strange to think that the two of you have become friends.”

“Very strange,” Jonas agreed. His gaze held an intensity then, and for a moment Cleo was certain he was going to say more to her. His hand brushed against the sheath at his waist, and she saw the golden hilt of a dagger.

“Do you still have Aron’s horrible dagger?” she asked. “After all this time?”

Jonas pulled his hand away from the weapon. “I need to go back to the palace now. Are you coming?”

Cleo turned to the canal to see that a ship was passing in the distance on its way from the palace to the Silver Sea.

“Not yet. I’ll be back shortly. Go, check on Lucia. But promise me something . . .”

“Yes?”

“Don’t kill any rabbits.”

“I promise you,” he said solemnly. “No harm will come to a single Auranian rabbit today.”

With one more glance back at her, Jonas left Cleo there in the sandy cove.

Alone on the beach, Cleo walked toward the water, which lapped at her golden sandals. She focused all her attention on the ocean, trying to feel some sort of affinity with it since it matched the magic within her.

But she felt nothing here. No sense of drowning. No desire to walk into the salty water until it covered her from head to toe.

She tentatively looked down at the mark on her hand and its branching blue lines.

She didn’t want to be tentative or frightened. She wanted to be strong.

He would want her to be strong.

I miss him so much, she thought as her eyes began to burn. Please, please let me think of him and let that memory make me stronger.

Cleo wasn’t even sure whom she prayed to anymore, but she still prayed.

“Well, that was quite a romantic sight, wasn’t it? The rebel and the princess, together again in their mutual admiration.”

“And now I’m imagining his voice,” she whispered.

His jealous, angry voice.

“I’ll let it be your choice entirely, princess. Shall I kill him slowly or quickly?”

Now Cleo frowned.

He sounded so real—far more real than any fantasy.

Cleo turned around slowly to see the tall, broad-shouldered figment of her imagination standing no more than three paces away from her. Scowling.

“I know I should be concerned about your situation.” Magnus gestured toward her. “My wife, the water goddess. And even before I’d learned what had happened, I’d been beside myself in my haste to get back to you, thinking you might be Kurtis’s prisoner by now.”

She gaped at him. “Magnus?”

“And I am deeply, painfully concerned—don’t think I’m not. But to follow you here from the palace only to see you with Jonas Agallon,” he growled. “It’s not all right with me.”

She could barely form thoughts, let alone words. “Nothing happened.”

“It didn’t look like nothing.”

Tears splashed to her cheeks. “You’re alive.”

The remainder of the fury faded from his brown eyes. “I am.”

“And you’re here right in front of me.”

“Yes.” His gaze fell to her left hand and the marks from her ongoing internal battle with the water Kindred. “Oh, Cleo . . .”

With a ragged sob, she threw herself into his arms. He lifted her off the ground to embrace her tightly against his chest.

“I thought you were dead,” Cleo sobbed. “Lucia—she saw it. She did a location spell and sensed you were dead, and I . . .” She rested her head against his shoulder. “Oh, Magnus, I love you. And I’ve missed you so much I thought I might die from it. But you’re here.”

“I love you too,” he whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

Then he crushed his mouth against hers, kissing her hard, stealing her breath and giving her life at the same time.

“I knew you’d be fine, no matter what,” he said to her when their lips parted. “You’re the bravest and strongest girl I’ve ever known in my life.”

Cleo ran her hands over his face, his jaw, his throat, wanting to prove to herself that this was real and not just a dream. “I’m sorry, Magnus.”

He finally placed her back down on the sandy ground, holding her gaze intensely. “For what?”