la jeune fille marquée; Magnus

[magnus]

you and I both know that the house is haunted
and you and I both know that the ghost is me

‘He doesn’t treat me that way anymore.’

The words sear against his throat, and his gold-flecked eyes burn intensely, his lacerated lips pressed together in thought as he lets her continue, each fumble splintering his bones, the tension in her body causing his mind to race. He does not miss her quick glances to the trees, and he feels his body react to it, the stallion feeling on edge. If they were being watched, he would have to be careful—although he found himself wishing that Gryffen was there. It would be nice to just settle this with an old-fashioned brawl.

He wouldn’t mind teaching the red-eyed wolf the proper way to treat a lady.

Worried that he would frighten her with his anger, the fury pouring through his veins like magma, and even more worried that she would take it as directed toward her, he reached out to touch her neck gently, stepping closer in a protective move. His husky voice dropped. “Minette,” her name burns on his tongue and lingers there for a moment. “Just say the word and I’ll help you. I’ll protect you.”

His gold-flecked eyes flick toward the trees and whatever was waiting there, whether it be spy or Gryffen himself, and there is a challenge in the way the buckskin holds himself. He’d gladly take on the other stallion. Turning back to her, he touched her again softly, “I’ll do whatever you ask of me.” Another pause, and his heart breaks just thinking about what she had been through. “You can trust me.”

MAGNUS

once general. once lord. once king.