Back Wonderstruck
Chapters (42)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Allie Therin
  3. Content Warning
  4. Dedication
  5. Author Note
  6. Chapter One
  7. Chapter Two
  8. Chapter Three
  9. Chapter Four
  10. Chapter Five
  11. Chapter Six
  12. Chapter Seven
  13. Chapter Eight
  14. Chapter Nine
  15. Chapter Ten
  16. Chapter Eleven
  17. Chapter Twelve
  18. Chapter Thirteen
  19. Chapter Fourteen
  20. Chapter Fifteen
  21. Chapter Sixteen
  22. Chapter Seventeen
  23. Chapter Eighteen
  24. Chapter Nineteen
  25. Chapter Twenty
  26. Chapter Twenty-One
  27. Chapter Twenty-Two
  28. Chapter Twenty-Three
  29. Chapter Twenty-Four
  30. Chapter Twenty-Five
  31. Chapter Twenty-Six
  32. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  33. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  34. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  35. Chapter Thirty
  36. Epilogue
  37. Acknowledgments
  38. About the Author
  39. Excerpt from Best Laid Plaids by Ella Stainton
  40. LGBTQ BPA
  41. About the Magic in Manhattan series
  42. Writing for Carina

Arthur broke into the first hint of a smile he’d had all night. He closed his eyes, shaking his head softly. “You are such a shit.”

“How do I look?” Rory said pointedly.

Arthur opened his eyes, so blue, even in the dim light. “Happy,” he whispered.

Rory kissed him, their lips moving together, his heart swelling with so much happiness that his eyes stung hot. “You gave me some of your aura,” he said against Arthur’s lips.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur whispered. “I’m mundane as a rock and you’ve got me in your beautiful magic—”

“Are you kidding me?” Rory pulled back again. “Ace, you’re saving me right back.”

“But I’ve changed you—”

“That’s what love does,” said Rory. “The best kind of love makes us stronger by ourselves too. Meeting you changed my life. It changed me. And I like me better now.”

Arthur stilled. “Love.” He hesitantly reached for Rory’s face, then quickly dropped his hand to his lap before he made contact.

Rory put his hand over Arthur’s heart. “You don’t have to be a fortress, bello. Your aura needed help and my magic was there, right? The rest of me’s right here too.”

Arthur bit his lip again. “I don’t want the Puppeteer to have control over my life, even in death,” he said, quiet and tight. “But I keep seeing that moment you hit the railing. The look on your face—”

“That wasn’t you,” said Rory.

“It was my hands,” Arthur whispered. “My arms. My body.”

“But not your choice.” Rory carefully stroked the back of Arthur’s head. “That magic’s gone, okay? You’re in control. We don’t have to do anything, you got that? Only what you want to do.”

“I want to touch you.” Arthur’s fists were balled on his lap. “I just don’t think I deserve to anymore.”

Rory leaned forward and kissed him again. “I got an idea,” he told Arthur. “A great one.”

Arthur swallowed. He watched as Rory kicked off his sneakers and scooted up the bed, lying down with his head on the pillow. “What’s this great idea?” Arthur finally asked, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Maybe you need to remember what it’s like to be in control of your body.” Rory stretched against the pillows. “So I’m gonna just lay here and let you have that control. And if you happen to decide you want to remember that when you’re in control, you only use your body to make me feel good, well...” He shrugged. “I’ll let you go right ahead and do that.”

Arthur’s lips twitched in another almost smile. “You know, it sounds as if your great idea is you just lie there while I service you.”