Page 98 of Deviant

There’s a formal bed of roses ahead and a vast fountain that has water splashing down into a circular, pristine pool of water. I’ve stared at this scene for so long, out past the great glass windows that have always had melocked inside. It feels almost unreal to finally be here, to dip my fingers into the cool wetness and know that this is real.

Once more, my mind flickers to that thought that this is temporary. All of this is. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon Magnus will kill me. Soon, I will be a sacrifice to his bigger dreams, his bigger desires.

A tear slips down my cheek before I can stop it. But it’s pointless. All my emotions are pointless, and ruminating over this, it’s just causing more heartbreak than is needed.

Movement to my right catches my attention.

I turn to see where Magnus is, fearful that if I’m now too far, he will be angry with me.

Only a figure is between us. Someone I don’t recognise.

Somehow, I’ve wandered far enough away that I’d have to run to get back to him, but I swear I didn’t take all that many steps.

The figure shouts something. I frown as the words echo in my head. Words I myself have screamed, have prayed, have cried in my darkest, deepest, worst moments.

He raises his arm, pointing something at Magnus and then I am running. I’m screaming. Sprinting. Launching myself at the stranger as I realise what this is. That he’s not one of Magnus’s men. That he’s not security, or a servant, or a friend.

He’s an assassin.

“No,” I scream, throwing my body at him as if it’s a weapon.

I slam into him, my weight causes us both to crash to the floor, and the gun in his hand slips out, falling a few feet away.

He shouts out, he lands a punch to my face and then makes another attempt to get the weapon.

I have to stop this.

I have to stop him.

I scramble for the gun. I scramble to get some control.

He pushes me back and I fight all the harder.

I won’t let him do this. I can’t let him do this. I have to protect Magnus, I have to protect my Master.

The gun goes off. Both of us are technically holding it, but I groan as that blast of unimaginable pain reverberates through my bones and I stare down, seeing where my blood is already coming out, thick, and warm, and far too damned fast.

I gasp, falling back, sinking onto that cool, soft grass I’ve been dreaming about. The man stares at me in shock and then Magnus is there, grabbing the weapon, taking control.

With one move, he blows the man’s head off and I murmur that that was stupid, that he should have kept him alive to get answers first. How will he know who wants him dead? How will he be able to protect himself?

But I’m suddenly so weary now, so weak. My eyes are so heavy it feels like my lids won’t stay open. This feels so different from the last time I was here, the last time I was dying. There is pain, yes, but this time feels more poignant. This time, my death serves a purpose.

I stare up at Magnus as he moves to scoop me up and my lips turn into a small, sad, smile.

“It, it, it’s okay,” I stammer.

He frowns, clearly not understanding what I mean.

“It’s okay.” I say again, because this is what was meant to happen.

It’s like it all suddenly makes sense.

I always wanted my life to mean something, now I realise it’s not my life, but my death that will.

I’m dying so that Magnus won’t. I’m dying to save him. He’s had ample opportunity to kill me but this way I spare us both that pain. Not only have I saved his life, but now he doesn’t have to take mine.

He doesn’t have to tarnish whatever this thing between us is.

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