The goddamned bastard.
He was keeping him busy, keeping him out of the way. Sending him on a pointless mission for some ironman that probably didn't even exist. No matter where he searched, there was never any sign of him. Never even a hint that had ever walked the earth. But Ashley insisted, of course. And Ashley knew all things. And Ashley commanded, so he obeyed. Not easily, never easily. With a bitterness in his heart and a grudging respect for the man who had trained him -who owned him. Despite that everything he trained him for was now lost. Gone.
He'd lost everything.
As if called by his thoughts, as if he just knew she was there, his head turned to land on the very one that possibly had crushed him the most. His heart fractured like shattering ice and he jerked his eyes away. He choked, trembled, forced himself to breathe. His jaw clenched tight, and he tried not to think of how much she'd grown, how incredibly beautiful she was, like her mother. Cerva. That hurt like hell, too. Where Cerva had always been so loving, hungry for his affection as he hungered for hers, Atrani had constantly rejected his touch.
Father, and she was there. And touching him, lining the ridge of bone plate. He swallowed against the painful lump in his throat, keeping his eyes closed as a hot tear slipped down his chiseled cheek. It was so hard to breathe, so sharp were the blades in his lungs. You left me so easily, you didn't even say goodbye.
God but he couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, and he turned his head to reach for her. Tentatively, hesitantly, afraid she would vanish at the slightest touch, afraid she would recoil from him again as she always had. No, he couldn't bear it, couldn't do it, and he stopped before he touched her, breathing in that goddamn bastard's scent. Magnus.
She left him for the enemy. Preferred him to her own father.
Magnus could never love her like he did.
He pushed back the hate, tried to ignore the rage and hurt. The betrayal. She was here, and he'd throw himself into this beautiful fantasy and damn the consequences, as always. Damn the crippling anguish he would feel when she left him again.
I can't survive any more of your rejection, he murmured in pained honesty, his voice strained and mouth hovering so near her beautiful neck. But he wouldn't touch her. He couldn't. When he would grab and take with anyone else, he couldn't bear to feel her shrink away from his touch again. Always pulling away. If I fought for you, I would only die when you left me anyway. And how could he watch over her if he were dead.
I'll take my bow, I won't make a sound
I whisper truce as the ashes hit the ground
