Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment) (47 page)

BOOK: Octavian's Undoing (Sons of Judgment)
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But at what cost? She had to sacrifice her father’s life to save her own. What kind of daughter did that make her?

 

“How is Magnus?” She put aside her misery for a moment to look into Octavian’s eyes. “Is he okay?”

 

He grazed her cheek with his knuckles. “He’s fine.”

 

Her lower lip trembled. “Is… is he angry with me? I almost got him killed.”

 

His thumb pressed lightly on her lips, stilling her words. “You saved his life.”

 

No matter how often he said it, the fact remained the same; she had asked Magnus and Gideon to help her, which had nearly cost them both their lives. If Magnus had died, that would have been another death on her hands.

 

Octavian sat back. “I’m going to grab my mom. She wanted to know the minute you woke up. I’ll be right back.”

 

Riley said nothing as he rose and hurried from the room. She lay numb from the brain down as silence crushed her from the outside and guilt from the inside. At any moment, she expected to simply implode, but it didn’t happen. Truthfully, it shouldn’t be that simple. She deserved to suffer for what she’d done.

 

Hands that had always been small, but capable trembled as she stared at them. Someone had scrubbed them free of the black blood, but it continued to burn as though she’d been splashed with acid. She curled them into the sheets and drew the fabric all the way up to her ears.

 

That’s how Octavian and Kyaerin found her moments later.

 

Kyaerin moved swiftly around the bed until she could replace the spot Octavian had occupied only moments ago. She lowered herself down on the mattress, her weight barely affecting Riley as she leaned in to tug down the sheets.

 

“Riley?”

 

Riley opened her eyes and lifted them to the woman.

 

Kyaerin smiled at her. “How are you feeling?”

 

It was such a stupid question. She murdered her father. It didn’t exactly give her a glowing, rosy feeling.

 

“I know,” Kyaerin said quietly as though Riley had answered. “But you had to do what you did. He would not have stopped. You could not have reasoned with him.”

 

But he had been her father. There had to have been a way.

 

“Are you hungry?”

 

Riley shook her head.

 

“Do you think you could eat a little?” Kyaerin prodded. “Maybe some broth?”

 

Riley didn’t move. She stared at the nothing, wishing everyone would leave so she could go back to sleep.

 

Kyaerin didn’t press her again. She checked the bandages wrapped around Riley’s shoulders, rose and left.

 

Riley listened as the door closed behind her. She closed her eyes, even though she knew sleep would never come again.

 

 

Magnus was sitting next to her bed when she opened her eyes again. The room was dark except the light creeping through the windows, spilling across the ground over his still silhouette. For a moment, she couldn’t make out who he was, his face bathed in shadows. But she recognized his build and the darkness of his hair.

 

He had one leg stretched out in front of him and both hands on the armrest as he sat with his head turned away from the bed towards the flickering hearth. Gold and crimson flames leapt across his profile, painting the darkness of his shirt, the stiffness of his pants and the white of his hands. He was so still

 

“Magnus?”

 

Unhurried, he turned his head in her direction. “You’re awake.”

 

“Are you okay?” she asked, ignoring his obvious statement.

 

His shoulders moved in a shrug. “I’m alive.”

 

Riley pushed upright to a sitting position, careful not to jostle her injured arm. “I’m so sorry, Magnus. I swear I didn’t mean to—”

 

He waved her apology away with the flick of his wrist. “I would have done the same.”

 

There was a small ignition of hope in her chest. “Really?”

 

His teeth flashed, the only color against his cloaked face. “No.” He shrugged again. “But that’s because I’m not human and have done this for more years than I can count.”

 

“I really am so, so sorry.”

 

He seemed to ignore her apology. “How are you?”

 

Riley touched her shoulder. “Okay.”

 

“Mom tells me you saved my life.”

 

She shook her head. “I didn’t. I almost got you killed. I almost got Gideon killed. I never should have gone with you.”

 

The chair creaked in the silence as he adjusted his weight. “What do you think would have happened to us had you not been there?” he continued when she couldn’t answer. “You may have nearly gotten us killed, but you did help. You defeated the…” He must have realized what he was about to say. He broke off.

 

“The monster?” she whispered past the tightness in her chest.

 

He looked down. “I’m sorry about your father.”

 

“It was his fault, wasn’t it? He brought it on himself. He sold his soul for… I don’t even know what.”

 

He raised his head. “That doesn’t mean he deserved what happened.”

 

She didn’t know how to reply. “What are you doing here?”

 

Magnus stretched his long frame, pushing out both legs and arching his back while he combed long fingers back through his hair. “We’ve been taking turns watching over you. It’s my turn.”

 

Heat worked up her neck to fill her cheeks. “You don’t have to do that.”

 

He was quiet for so long that Riley momentarily wondered if he’d fallen asleep. His voice was quiet when he spoke. “It’s what family does, Riley. We look out for each other.”

 

Tears she hadn’t realized were filling her eyes, spilled down her cheeks. “You hate me.”

 

“Do I?”

 

She frowned at his shape. “You threatened to kill me.”

 

“Only if you hurt my brother,” he said. “Maybe I went a little overboard.”

 

“You think?”

 

She couldn’t see it, but she could have sworn he smirked. “I’m sure you’ve deduced by now that I’m not like my brothers. I have very little love for most things.”

 

“Yet you’re sitting by my bedside.”

 

He leaned a bit to the right and raised his arm. He rubbed at his jaw. “You are my brother’s mate. That makes you my sister. Whether I like it or dislike the idea, you are family. I am nothing if not fiercely loyal to my family.”

 

“Even if they nearly get you killed?”

 

His teeth gleamed in a smile that stretched his face. It made Riley wish for light so she could see this miraculous event. “If I thought of every time Reggie and Gideon have nearly gotten me killed… that’s all I would think about.”

 

Riley sighed, amusement gone. “I really am so sorry, Magnus.”

 

“So you’ve said.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The new position brought him directly into the glow drifting through the window. The pale fingers drifted over his perfect features, ran along his poetic nose and the dark lashes lining his eyes. But that’s where the perfection ended, where the skin had once been taut and beautiful, it was now puckered into four disfiguring gashes that marred the hard lines of his face from temple to chin. It curved, narrowly missing his left eye, ran down the side of his nose to stop just at the corner of his upper lip.

 

“Oh my God, Magnus!” She had the sheets thrown back and was out of bed before her arm even had a chance to scream in protest. She dropped down in front of him. Her unwrapped hand went to his face, which wasn’t the side with the scars, but she couldn’t help herself.

 

Maybe it was surprise on his part, but he didn’t pull away. However, there was a hint of dry amusement in his tone when he spoke. “I thought women liked men with war scars.”

 

Unimpressed by his nonchalance, Riley scowled up at him. “How can you joke about this?”

 

He sat back, letting her hand drop away. “I’m morbid like that, I suppose.”

 

Her shoulders drooped. “I am—”

 

“Don’t say sorry again.” He rubbed the good side of his face with his hand. “I’ve reached my max quota for apologies.”

 

Riley dropped her gaze to her lap. “But I feel awful.”

 

“As you should. No one’s going to want to marry me now.”

 

She frowned at his teasing. “It’s not funny. How can you stand me?”

 

He scratched his jaw. “Well, I did contemplate tossing you into a pit of gators, but then I’d have to find a pit and fill it with gators… it all just seemed like such a lot of trouble. Truth be told, you’re doing a fantastic job beating yourself up for me and I didn’t even have to break a sweat.”

 

The corner of her mouth twitched. “You sound like Gideon.”

 

He grinned. “Where do you think he learned it? Now will you get off the floor? From that angle, if someone walks in, it’s going to be really hard to explain and I’m too sore to defend myself properly from an ass kicking.”

 

Flushing, Riley awkwardly got to her feet. She was smoothing a hand down the front of her nightgown when the door opened and Octavian filled the doorway.

 

His gray eyes swung from his brother to Riley and narrowed. “What are you doing out of bed?”

 

Magnus gracefully leapt to his feet. He raised his arms over his head, laced the fingers together and stretched the palms towards the ceiling. “That’s my cue,” he said, letting his arms drop. Without another word, he stalked out of the room, leaving Riley alone with Octavian.

 

“Riley.” He crossed to her and took her lightly by the arms. “You should be lying down.”

 

“Will it heal?” she asked, refusing to budge when he nudged her towards the bed.

 

“What?”

 

“Magnus’ face.”

 

His expression softened. “It was much worse in the beginning. The healing ointment mended a good portion of it.”

 

She wanted to ask what a healing ointment was, but opted for a much bigger question. “But will it heal completely?”

 

“Do you mean will it go back to what it was before?”

 

Riley nodded.

 

He hesitated and that answered her before he did. “No, he will always have the scars.”

 

“He must hate me.”

 

His fingers tucked beneath her chin, tipping her face up to his. “No one can hate you, Riley. This is part of the job. We expect it.”

 

“Yes, but he’d managed to walk away un-scarred for centuries and then one day with me…”

 

“Hey.” He forced her to look at him. “He’s alive and that’s all we Casters can ask for when we go on a hunt.”

 

“No!” Her fingers closed in the material of his shirt. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t tell me I should be grateful to have you come home hurt.”

 

“But at least I’ll be home.”

 

As true as that may have been. “I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt. Not even a scratch.”

 

He smoothed a thumb over her cheek. “I can’t promise you I won’t get hurt, but I will promise that I will always fight and do my best to come back to you.”

 

It was all she could ask, truthfully. This was probably how the wives and girlfriends of soldiers felt each time their loved one got deployed, each time they turned on the TV and heard about a platoon getting attacked. It was jarring and unsettling and she hated it, hated that she couldn’t protect him, couldn’t be with him when he may need her. There was nothing she could do except pray and wait for him to return.

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