Gathering Darkness (Falling Kingdoms #3)(60)

He glared at her as he brought up his hand and touched his scar. He never should have told her that bit about his past. He had exposed yet another weakness, and now she was using it against him. “What do you think you’re doing here, saying these things to me?”

She bit her bottom lip before replying. “I’m simply trying to have a civil conversation with you.”

Enough of this. “Then this civil conversation has happily reached its end.” Magnus stood up and began walking away. But suddenly she was up and standing there, blocking his path.

“I’m not done,” she said.

“Oh, you’re done.”

“No. I’m not.”

He was through with this. He grabbed her arms, turned her around, and pushed her backward until she touched the mosaic. The goddess rose up above her, a fearsome, omnipotent guardian watching over the Auranian princess.

“There is no goodness inside of me, princess, so please don’t waste time fantasizing that there might be.”

“Lucia is your sister and she’s not bad,” Cleo said.

“You want truth, princess? Lucia was adopted. We share no blood, not that it makes any difference to her. I’m sure you’ve heard the rumor—a brother who lusts after his own sister. It’s all true. But don’t worry. She didn’t sully herself with the notion that we could ever be together. That was my fantasy alone, not hers. I disgust her every bit as much as I disgust you. That’s one thing you have in common with this girl you’re attempting to blossom a friendship with.”

Cleo looked stricken with shock. He knew that these admissions were spilling from his lips like wine from an overturned cask, but he didn’t really care anymore.

“I must admit, she doesn’t torture me as much as she used to, by day and by night,” he went on. “Lately my more troubling dreams have shifted from ones of my dark-haired sister to ones of a princess with hair of pale gold.” He took up a lock of Cleo’s waist-length hair and twisted it around his index finger. He stared at it, transfixed. “Dreams of the one I was bound to against my wishes.”

Her cerulean eyes widened. “You dream about me?”

His gaze snapped back to hers. “Nightmares only.”

He wished they were only nightmares.

Magnus tried to pull back from her, but she grabbed hold of his shirt.

“Rather than always fighting ,” she whispered, “we could find a way to help each other. It’s possible we have similar goals.”

Such words were more than enough to sign her death warrant. Was she so stupid as to say these things to the son of the king?

Or did she really know him so well that she felt confident being so bold?

Cleo wanted her throne back. There was no doubt about it. She wanted her kingdom returned to her family name, and she wanted his father dead so he would never again hurt anyone she loved. She fought quietly but fiercely for this with every day that passed, every word she spoke.

And in this moment, he thought she was the bravest and most beautiful girl he’d ever known.

The effects of the wine still swirled through his mind and body, the world sparkling all around him. But one thought was crystal clear.

This princess, who looked at him tonight with hope rather than hate shining in her eyes . . . if he let her, she could destroy him.

Magnus slid his hands down her silk gown and circled her narrow waist. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart he pressed himself against her.

She drew in a shaky breath as his mouth brushed the curve of her ear.

“Tell me, princess,” he whispered. “What would Theon say if he could know you’d allow me to get this close to you?”

Cleo gasped and shoved him back. Her eyes were wide and already glossy with tears at the harsh reminder of her lost love.

She slapped Magnus across his face and the sting of it impressed him. She was much stronger than she appeared.

“How dare you even speak his name!” she hissed, tears splashing to her cheeks.

This was the reaction he’d hoped for, the one that could put an end to this dangerous confrontation. “It took no effort at all to shove that sword through his back and send him to the ever after.” He forced himself to smirk. “And yet now you suggest an alliance with me. How soon you have forgotten who your true enemies are, princess. It makes me question your intelligence.”

Cleo’s cheeks flamed. “I hate you.”

“Good. You should never forget your place in this palace. You continue to live only because my father doesn’t yet want you dead. You have no power here. And, most especially, you have no power over me.”

He watched her reel with emotion, and then her gaze became flat and dead, the bright rosiness of her anger fading from her cheeks. Her guard was back up—not a surprise when it came to him.

“Much gratitude for the reminder,” she said.

“Good evening, princess.” With that, Magnus left the temple, not even glancing at Cronus, who still waited outside.

“The princess?” Cronus asked.

He flicked his hand. “Let her worship to her heart’s content. I don’t care what she does.”

“Your opinions have changed much in the short time you were inside.”

“Nothing has changed. I just remembered how apathetic I am about that deceitful creature.”