Chapter 27 Iphigenia #2
“There’s nothing to understand. You are wrong. We both were. Claudia is innocent.” He points the dagger directly at her eye. “You are not.”
“I don’t understand,” she repeats over and over, rocking back and forth with her gaze fixed on Odette’s name etched into the headstone.
Cassius turns, charges to Claudia’s side, and wraps her in his arms. She melts with relief, throwing her arms around his neck, desperately trying to stop shaking.
“I’ve got you.” He kisses her forehead. “You’re safe.
” His hold on her is powerful and unyielding, like he might never let her go.
Seeing the wound on her shoulder, he untucks his shirt and tears a piece from the bottom, creating a makeshift gauze to wrap around her.
Starlight spills over his chest, his stomach, the strong V of his hips.
When he’s done dressing her wound, he says, “Are you okay?”
She takes his hand. He’s warm. He’s here.
“I’m okay now.”
“Good.” His grip doesn’t loosen when he turns back to Marcherie.
The singer is still on her knees. Cassius swallows.
His voice is harsh and scathing as he says, “If you ever do anything to harm Claudia again, I will have you expelled, and I will champion any additional punishment that Dolericym exacts.”
She gasps through another sob. “You can’t—”
“Yes, I can. I’m second to the High Sage. All it takes is one report from me and you’re done. You’ll lose your magic, and you’ll never see Cygnus again.”
Marcherie’s face is a mess of tears and snot and spit. “Cas, how could you say that to me? We’re friends.”
“The girl who made us friends is dead,” Cassius snaps. His words wound Marcherie more than any blade ever could. She seems to crumple into herself, sobbing and sniveling and stammering nonsense.
“Don’t do this, Cas.”
He laughs. His voice is so cold. He almost sounds like—
No. Claudia shakes her head and leans into his warmth. Cassius isn’t like Dorian. He’s not made of winter. He’s made of heat.
“I caught you holding a knife to Claudia’s throat. You’re lucky I’m being so gentle.”
Marcherie stands, stomping like a petulant child. “What even is she to you? Why is she suddenly more important than everyone else?”
He keeps Claudia tucked behind his back, his hand tight around hers. “I owe you no explanation. Claudia is with me now. Anyone who hurts her, from here on out, will suffer severe consequences.”
The three of them stand in the harsh echo of the moment for a long time.
“Go back to Cygnus, Marcherie,” Cassius says, his voice dark as night. “Leave before I hurt you the way I truly want to.”
She sucks her lower lip into her mouth and whimpers. Quiet enough that it could just be the wind, Marcherie looks at Claudia and says, “I’m sorry.”
Then she turns and runs away, leaving Cassius and Claudia with nothing but the warmth of each other.
Their breathing is fast and heavy. It’s clear that neither of them knows what to say, so eventually, Claudia shrugs her shoulders and laughs incredulously, deliriously. “What the fuck?” she says through a big, shaky exhale. “This isn’t real, is it? I’m in a nightmare.”
“What?”
“I’m asleep. I’m in my bed and I’m having a terrible nightmare. Right?”
Cassius cups her face in his hands. He looks over every inch of her face with concern. “You’re scaring me. Did you hit your head?”
She blinks, running her hand along the wound at her shoulder. She looks back in the direction Marcherie ran. “Was that real? Did she really try to kill me?”
Cassius gives the smallest nod. “I don’t know what she was thinking.”
“And tonight. We went to the opera. We kissed. Did that really happen?”
“Yes.”
She nods, looking down at her dress. “And this? You tricked me into becoming Iphigenia. Real?”
He hangs his head. “Yes. All real.”
Claudia nervously runs her hands up and down her upper arms, stopping just before her new wound. “The game master. With the mask. Who is he?”
“I don’t know. He’s chosen by Dolericym and his identity can never be revealed. It’s part of how we keep the games fair. Our game masters are neutral, anonymous entities.”
Claudia shivers. She’d lean away from him if she could afford to lose the warmth. Cassius wraps her up in his arms until her teeth stop chattering.
“I’m so sorry, Claudia. I never should’ve let you out of my sight.”
“That’s not the only mistake you’ve made tonight.” She looks up at him. “Why didn’t you tell me about your plan? I would’ve understood. I would’ve helped.”
“If you wanted the part, Dolericym wouldn’t have chosen you. Unbidden and unplanned, you had to become Iphigenia on your own. Your story had to mirror hers. That’s how it works.”
“So you made me into a pawn, just like her.”
“I’m sorry. I did. I won’t try to deny it.”
“Was it worth it, Cassius?”
At first, he shakes his head. But then he looks deep into Claudia’s teary, blown-out eyes. He releases a stumbling breath. “Do you want me to be honest?”
“Of course I do.”
“Even if I sound like a selfish bastard?”
She nods.
He sighs, running both of his hands through his hair.
A thin tear slips down his cheek. “Forgive my brashness.” He sounds drunk.
The sobering anxiety from their fight with Marcherie must be wearing off.
The high from the recital and the cherry nectar has regained control of his mind.
“Blame Dolericym and the wine for my tongue, but yes, it would’ve been worth it if you won. ”
“You’re right. That does make you sound like a selfish bastard.”
“I’m sorry, Claudia.” Another tear falls.
“I hate that I couldn’t tell you the truth.
I hate that Marcherie went mad and you got hurt.
And I hate how this has shaken your faith that I truly care for you, because I do.
I’ve cared for you from the moment I saw you.
Some nights, I wanted you so badly that I would stand in the courtyard and watch your silhouette dance across the curtains in your room, and I would dream of seeing you, of touching you, of simply being near you.
But you have to understand—my curse is cruel.
It’s torturous. It’s driven many of my family members out of their minds, trying any and every way to possibly commune with the gods.
So to have you, a beautiful, powerful witch who can somehow defy all that I’ve ever known…
” He looks up to the sky, searching for the right words.
“It’s life-changing. It’s all I’ve prayed for.
It’s everything I’ve seen in my dreams but been too afraid to believe.
” He reaches for her slowly, as though afraid she’ll bite him.
She stays still and lifts her chin, barely inviting him in.
He slides one hand around the curve of her waist. She doesn’t protest. His other hand moves up her arm and settles in the dip where her neck meets her shoulder.
“I can’t let you go. But I’ve done everything wrong, and you’re looking at me like you hate me, and it wasn’t worth it because I let you down and didn’t help you secure the win you deserved.
” His forehead touches hers. His face is wet and warm. “I wish I could take it all back.”
Reaching up, she gently wipes his cheek. Her nose scrapes against his. She whispers, “What if I did win?”
His fingers twitch at her neck. “Your ribbon is gone.”
“No, it’s not.” She threads her fingers in her hair and pulls out the ribbon with one smooth tug.
“I tricked them,” she says while she ties it at her neck.
“They only took a scrap of my dress, just like the one you used to tie up my wound. I’m still very much alive in this game.
” She straightens the red ribbon at her waist. “And I’ve killed an Agamemnon.
” Twisting out of his grip, she walks forward.
Plucking Marcherie’s gold ribbon from the ground, she says, “And a stag, too.” Eyes on Cassius’s throat at his green ribbon, she says, “All that’s left is an Artemis. ”
He stays perfectly still while she saunters toward him. Reaching up, she lightly tugs at his ribbon. “Is that what you want, Cassius? Do you want me to kill you so I’ll win?”
“Yes.” His body is shaking, his voice heavy and urgent. “I need you to kill me, Star Girl.”
“Then I believe you know exactly what to do.”
“What is it? Anything.”
Her hand slides across his chest, up to his neck. She grabs his ribbon like a collar and pulls him close to her. She grits her teeth. “Beg.”
To her shock, his eyes lose every tinge of dominance and fall to a desperate, wistful stare. He drops to his knees.
“Please, Claudia. There aren’t words strong enough to express”—his breathing is rapid, and he puts his hands over his heart—“how much I need this. How much I need you.”
She lets out a warm, stumbling breath. She didn’t expect to enjoy this as much as she is. Turning her back to him, she walks a few feet forward and spins back around. “Crawl to me.”
He moves with the grace of a lion, and when he reaches her feet, he slides his hands up the backs of her legs, under her torn dress. Fingers curled around her knees, he kisses his way up her bare legs, begging in between.
“Please. I need you to do this for me. And after, I need you back in my room. I have craved your touch from the moment you slapped me, when I realized I would do anything to get your hands on me again. Since our game started, I have thought of nothing else. If I can’t have you, I could—” His throat bobs. He whimpers.
Cassius MacLeod whimpers.
“It might kill me if I can’t have you tonight, Claudia Jolicoeur.”
He’s desperate. He’s pathetic.
He’s never been more attractive.
Leaning down, she unties his ribbon and slowly tugs it off his neck. With her hand tight around his throat, she presses her lips to his and breathes the word yes into his mouth.