Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus)

Victor's handsome face remained gentle as he pulled a napkin from the table. He took her hand in his, carefully wiping away the fish stew that had splashed onto her skin-slow, deliberate, making sure not a drop was left behind.

Isadora watched him. His black shirt was stained far worse than her hand, but Victor only bowed his head, focused entirely on cleaning her up.

Under the warm, dim light, his long lashes cast delicate shadows against his sharply defined jaw. Something ached deep inside Isadora, spreading quietly through her chest and limbs. Her voice came out rough as she bit her lip, trying to explain, “I... I didn't mean to. I swear."

Victor tossed the napkin in the trash, his gaze gentle as moonlight glancing through a midnight sky. His voice was low and soothing, "I'm not angry with you."

A prickling heat stung at the corners of Isadora's eyes. She gripped his hand tightly, her voice trembling. "But I said such terrible things. I was awful..."

She knew she shouldn't have lashed out at him-none of this was Victor's fault. If anyone was hurting after Pudding was gone, it was Victor. How could she have said those words, stabbing at a wound that wasn't his to bear?

Victor reached up and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently across the tear at the corner of her eye. His words were quiet and patient. "I know, Isadora. That's why I'm not upset."

Her eyes burned even hotter. She buried her face against his chest, hands twisting up the front of his shirt until the smooth fabric wrinkled between her fingers.

"I'm just angry at myself. If it wasn't for me, Pudding wouldn't have died."

Victor wrapped his arms slowly around her waist, holding her close. His deep voice was steady, "He wouldn't blame you, and you shouldn't blame yourself either, all right?"

Isadora pressed herself into his embrace, nodding, her reply muffled and thick with tears. "If I ever lose it again, you can yell at me. Promise you'll yell back."

Victor tipped her chin up, locking eyes with her. Her gaze was puffy and red, tears still brimming.

He leaned down, his lips finding hers—a kiss, hot and desperate, tinged with the salty taste of her tears.

Victor's heart clenched painfully in his chest.

"Silly girl," he murmured against her lips. "If I can't accept all of you, what kind of man would I be?"

*

That evening, Keeley-Rowena's mother-stepped out of her bedroom frowning as a commotion echoed from the next room. She turned just in time to see Rowena wheeling out a large suitcase.

Keeley blinked. "What on earth are you doing?"

Rowena's younger sister, helping carry a smaller bag, piped up, "Are you moving out?"

Rowena knew she couldn't stay here

much longer. She'd become an expert at hiding from people-and trouble. If she could just get out of the city, find some quiet corner to disappear for a while, she could wait for the dust to settle. Then she'd come back, and no one would be the wiser.

After all, that stupid dog was dead. Isadora would be after her for sure. Best to disappear now and plan her next move. In the end, who could say who would really win?

Her eyes flashed with determination. "Mom,noveldrama

whilead, I'm going away for an e

while. Stay home, don't go

anywhere. If anyone asks about me, Just say you don't know a thing."

Keeley's voice trembled with concern. "Rowena, what mess have you gotten into

this time? Why do you have to leave again?"

Rowena snapped, "Don't worry about it! Just take care of yourselves and don't say a word about where I've gone. I'll come find you when it's all over."

"Rowena, wait, don't go!" Keeley rushed forward as Rowena headed for the door, reaching to grab her arm.

But before she could stop her, the front door burst open with a thunderous crash.