Chapters (42)
- Cover
- Also by Allie Therin
- Content Warning
- Dedication
- Author Note
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Excerpt from Best Laid Plaids by Ella Stainton
- LGBTQ BPA
- About the Magic in Manhattan series
- 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.”