We Are All Drawn to What's Broken & Beautiful

Three Drops of Blood

A/N: Anddd I'm back with another chapter! Will I finish this by the end of 2020? Who knows! Hopefully, someone is still reading this!

Night fell far too quickly for Alec's liking, though he was impatient to see Magnus.

The vampires had treated him like a guest, giving him food and a dark liquid in his glass that he thought was wine before Raphael had taken his glass away with a disapproving look.

To his relief, Camille was absent for dinner. The vampire queen unnerved him greatly. Raphael was better company, even if all he did was sip at his glass and glare. He did so wish Magnus had attended dinner as well but he was feeling poorly, as Raphael informed him.

Alec hoped that he would at least get a few minutes or so to speak with him before he fell asleep but alas when he was escorted up to the room, he could already hear soft snoring coming from behind the door.

His heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he pushed the door open, sucking in a sharp breath. Magnus was sprawled out on his bed, wrapped in a red velvet robe that looked like it had been hastily thrown on. In his hands, he clutched a mirror, the twin of the mirror he had given to Alec.

With shaking hands, Alec lowered himself into the chair beside his bed. He could not believe he was real.

Magnus was solid and warm under his fingertips as he rolled him onto his back, still snoring softly away. There was a draft sweeping in, ruffling his hair and making him shiver.

Alec tucked the covers over him, rising to draw the blinds and shut the windows. He blew out the candle that had been flickering on the nightstand before returning to his seat.

"Magnus," he murmured, trailing his fingers along Magnus' velvet sleeve. "It's me, Alec."

A sob caught in his throat when he realised that Magnus would not wake, that his deal had been made in vain. He bowed his head over the bed, the tears dripping slowly down to soak into Magnus' sleeve.

He caressed Magnus' hair before laying his head onto the sheets.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, "I'm sorry I came too late."

Gently, he tangled their fingers together, yelping when his hand brushed against the handle of Magnus' mirror. His skin caught onto something sharp and he bled when he yanked his hand away, three drops of blood staining the silver handle.

Alec did not notice, too preoccupied with the blood beading up on his finger. He sucked on it lightly, shaking his head. When he laid his head down again, he was overcome with weariness all at once.

He slept until daylight began streaming in from the partially closed drapes. When he awoke, Raphael was standing at the foot of the bed, arms folded across his chest.

"Your time is up," he said quietly, "the queen demands that you leave before he wakes."

-

The sun was already high in the sky by the time Magnus awoke. He was unusually groggy, as he sat up in his bed, the sheets pooling around his waist.

It was the strangest dream that he had. He dreamt that there was a young man in his room, sitting at his bedside weeping over him. His words were slurred and Magnus could not make them out but he was almost positive that he looked familiar in some way.

He shook it off, gathering his robe about him as Raphael entered the room.

"Was there a man in my room last night?" Magnus asked sluggishly, picking up his mirror.

"Not that I knew of," Raphael answered, raising his eyebrows. He tilted his head to the side. "Why?"

"Nothing. Just- I had a strange dream," Magnus said, already turning away. His head was throbbing as he turned his mirror up in the dim light. His heart stuttered when he noticed the blood crusted onto the handle, dark rust against the silver. The filigree on the handle was dark too, crusted with copper.

"I smell blood. Are you alright?" Raphael asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Fine. Just cut myself on my mirror," Magnus said, distracted.

Raphael raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Magnus ignored him, thumbing over the bloodstains curiously. He turned over his hand, checking for wounds, even the tiniest prick but there was none.

"Perhaps you should eat. The Queen ordered food to be brought to you," Raphael said. He was watching him closely as if expecting some form of reaction.

Magnus showed none.

He tucked the mirror away in a pocket of his robe and rose slowly, stretching. The drapes were closed when he had no memory of shutting them the night before. His last memory had been of Camille's painted smile when she had tried to kiss him.

The image in his mind made him shudder and he yanked open the blinds harshly, flooding the room with light. Even Raphael's hiss did nothing to deter him from leaning as close as he could to feel the sunlight.

The sun was warm on his face, a cold breeze ruffling his hair.

Absently, Magnus stroked his thumb along the handle of his mirror. He was growing ever more certain that he had not dreamt the man in his room. The blood on his mirror was not his.

All thoughts of that were forgotten when Camille swept into the room in a flurry of red silk and perfume. Her lips were painted in scarlet, the tips of her fangs. She spun in a circle, tossing her hair back sensually.

"Don't I look beautiful?" she purred.

"You always do," Magnus answered, monotone. He had long learnt to say the things she wanted to hear. The sooner she heard them, the sooner she would leave him alone.

"It's a new dress." Camille's smile was cryptic.

"I see," Magnus said dully. "Does it concern me?"

Camille's lips upturned even further, baring her fangs.

"No, not at all, Magnus. I just wanted you to see it."

Magnus barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"Your Majesty. There is someone at the door," Raphael said before Camille could say another word. His eyes flicked to Magnus before he lowered his head respectfully.

Camille pouted, her tongue flicking over her teeth.

"You are no fun, Magnus," she breathed, tapping a manicured finger on Magnus' chest. Magnus took a tiny step away, his jaw tightening. He could not wait for night fall.

At least dreaming of strange men in his room was better than staying in reality.