Taste of ecstasy

Chapter 39

Inside the royal carriage, silence enveloped them like a velvet cocoon. The door shut behind, the footman's respectful bow disappearing as the horses began to move.

The moment the latch clicked, Alec turned.

His hands found Magnus's face fingers trembling with all the things he couldn't say in front of others and pulled him close. Their lips met not in hesitation but in a fierce, searing crash of emotion. Magnus gasped into the kiss, one hand flying up to clutch Alec's shoulder, the other pressed between them instinctively, still protectively cupping the absent swell of his belly.

Alec kissed him like he had been starved for days, like Magnus had been lost at sea and now he was ashore again alive, safe, his. It was a kiss laced with fire and desperation, but underlined with something softer too, like devotion had seeped into every breath they took together.

"I thought I'd lost you," Alec whispered against his lips. "You were gone, Magnus. I couldn't breathe."

"I had to go," Magnus whispered, voice cracking as his forehead touched Alec's. "I didn't know what was happening to me. I was terrified."

Alec cupped the back of his head, grounding him. "Next time you're afraid, you come to me first. No matter what. We face everything together now. You and me and our child."

Magnus blinked, his lips parting just slightly. "Say that again."

Alec smiled, and this time it was softer. Wrecked and beautiful.

"Our child," he said again, reverently. "Yours and mine."

A shudder rolled through Magnus, followed by a smile that broke like dawn. He pulled Alec into another kiss, this one slower, deeper, tasting of relief and unspoken promises. The carriage wheels rolled over cobblestone, the sound of distant music blooming from the palace steps, but inside this carriage inside this moment there was only the two of them.

Only breath and warmth and the trembling promise of a future neither of them ever imagined having... until now. Magnus rested his head on Alec's chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat as they neared the palace.

"I hope he has your eyes," he murmured.

Alec's fingers threaded through his hair. "And your heart," he whispered.

The palace gates had never seemed so fragile to Alec Lightwood.

As the carriage rolled past them and into the inner courtyard, he could still feel the taste of Magnus's lips on his own the urgency, the salt of tears, the quiet tremble beneath the kiss that had spoken of fear and love in equal measure. His arm remained around Magnus's waist, and though the world outside was slipping into order courtiers assembling, ceremonial drums echoing from the temple towers Alec's mind was anything but calm.

His pulse thrummed beneath his royal tunic, heavy with more than crown or duty now. His hand hovered protectively over Magnus's lower back, as if instinctively drawn to the place where life his child was blooming quietly beneath skin and silk.

Their child.

The realization kept repeating like a heartbeat in Alec's ears.

The palace came alive around them preparations bustling for the royal wedding, streamers flying like battle flags, kitchens erupting with aromas of spiced sugar and burnt clove. Drums began again, closer now. The celebration was near. The world was spinning forward.

But for Alec, the world had stilled inside this carriage.

He looked down at Magnus beside him.

Magnus had rested his head briefly on Alec's shoulder during the ride back his breath soft, his hands quietly folded on his lap. He looked exhausted, drawn thin by truths he had carried alone for weeks.