It's a long, dead life!

by BDE

We join Twlight's Volturi in 1663 when Carlisle was turned for his long, dead life and family drama. Aro, Caius, and Marcus are trying to rule the world. Felix, Demetri, Jane and Alec are creating havoc as child vampires and the Denali sisters soon join them. Mature scenes - Corporal Punishment (spanking/discipline) and offensive things, but its the Volturi, so what do you expect?

174. All Ends That Ends Well: Part 4

AN: Caius wouldn't play ball at all when I was writing this one and it's all his fault it took so long to post. This chapter totally ran away from me and doubled in length. That's affected the next one, too, typically (which will be the last one for this part of the story).

Anyway...we're picking up where we left off, walking into Caius and Dora's place…

All Ends That Ends Well: Part 4

JANUARY 31ST

When Magnus snapped the book closed, Odi breathed a sigh of relief and followed behind the man with a slightly lighter step. His evening would be miserable, but privately miserable, at least. All things considered, that was a win.

Sadly, Magnus ruined everything when he turned away from the stairs in the North Tower and entered the ground-floor apartment instead…

Caius's greeting to the Guard Master didn't help matters, either. "Where the hell have you been?"

Magnus could have exploded on the spot. He snatched the belt from his shoulder where it had been bouncing since leaving the Guard Hall well over an hour ago—closer to two, in fact—and flung it into his usual chair.

"I'll get to you," he said, his voice dark and low.

Caius flinched, involuntarily moving back a step. His plans to tell Magnus to watch what he was saying in the Guard Hall fell away when he saw the vehemence in the Juggernaut's eyes. He hoped most of it was for Odi.

"I need a quill," said Magnus, heading to Caius's barely used writing bureau.

It was similar to the one in Eleazar's chambers where Irina had found the paper she needed for Marcus's reports. It would be, as Basileus bought them both at the same time in response to Aro complaining neither of the recipients ever put pen to paper. Eleazar's desk saw only slightly more activity than the coven master's as Caius still rarely wrote anything down, and when he did, it tended to be a hurried report for Aro that he completed in the dungeons whilst complaining about the pointlessness of the task. Dora used it more often, though she preferred to write to her far-flung friends from the window seat.

Once again ignoring Aro's section of Odi's report with a rumbling growl he was incapable of suppressing, Magnus added an overview of his son's time in the Guard Hall. There wasn't much to say—general animosity with the usual few guards (Afton and Alexander) who had purposely wound him up and an attitude with the Guard Master (him!).

Magnus looked up from the hurried scrawl he was adding to his son's report when he picked up on Odi's increased anxiety through his gift. "Tell him he can come in, Caius."

Odi had stayed in the doorway, focused nervously on Caius. At the best of times, he couldn't meet his eye unless he was already riled up. Considering Odi's afternoon antics, entering the coven master's domain, even with his father in attendance, seemed like playing in the lion pits.

Caius offered Odi a slick smile before answering Magnus. "He can come in, he can take a seat, and he can listen." It put no one at ease.

Magnus stopped trying to contain his growl—it was loud enough to bring Dora through from the bedroom. She'd been listening to everything going on, naturally, wondering whether to show her face.

"Bloody hell, Caius," Dora huffed. First flashing to the fireplace, she filled a cup of bloodwine for Odi and shoved past her husband. "He can also have a drink. Here you go, Odi."

She pressed the ornate cup into his hand as she pulled him into the ground-floor suite of the North Tower and closed the door behind him, guiding him away from her mean husband to the sofas beside the fireplace instead, where she tended to sit.

Odi wondered how much she knew about his disastrous day and whether her support would last when she heard it in full. She usually stuck up for him, so perhaps it would? He hoped so. He needed someone in his corner for moral support alone.

It appeared Dora might need some support, too, as she bounced back to the bloodwine above the fire, then to Magnus.

"I'm sorry about this afternoon." She gave Magnus his usual tankard with a small smile, ignoring Caius and Odi's questioning gaze. "It won't happen again."

"Good," he said, taking a swig. He wrapped one arm around her small shoulders and pulled her into his chest for a moment, and kissed the top of her head. "I didn't enjoy it, either. Next time you'll enjoy it even less."

Ouch! This is why Dora had been hiding in her bedroom. She swallowed down her rehearsed excuses for being bitchy about Irina—better instead to ensure there wouldn't be a repeat of the event. Being told off by Magnus in the Guard Hall (well, the office, but it might as well have been the bloody Guard Hall!) and then walking back into Irina's gurning face had burned. Oh, how it burned!

Collecting a cup of bloodwine for herself, Dora slunk into the seat next to Odi.

Caius watched her sit down and bury her face in her drink. "I'll get my own then, shall I?"

She'd only left the safety of her bedroom because Caius was being spiteful to the kid. Now Dora felt two feet tall, and it was all his fault. Damn right Caius could fetch his own drink if he wanted one!

"You've drunk your fill for one day," said Magnus, before Caius could get near the cauldron hanging above the fire. "We've got a long conversation coming, and I want you to feel it."

Mid step, in the middle of the room, Caius stopped dead and look daggers at Magnus. Caius knew Magnus was angry with him and could even think of a few reasons for it. But of all the ways he could have phrased it, why like that? And why in front of the brat, for fuck's sake?

Odi could barely contain himself. His earlier reticence at being in the same room as Caius was long forgotten—now his shoulders shook as he hid a wide grin behind his goblet. Dora told the kid to knock it off before Caius lost his composure, but even she wore a wicked smirk.

The pair of them insulted Caius just enough for him to throw caution to the wind. He made a snap decision and continued on his path to the bloodwine cauldron. Who the hell did he think he was embarrassing Caius Volturi like he was some sort of lowly guard? Fuck that and fuck Magnus! He'd put the prick back in his proper place if it killed him.

Two steps later, with considerably more to the fireplace to go, Caius dropped to his knees with both arms wrapped around stomach. The wave of nausea came so fast and violently that he feared he'd bring up internal organs if he actually vomited. Caius didn't question where the feeling came from—only the resident empath could have caused such a violent bodily reaction from nowhere. Receiving the message loud and clear, as the nausea subsided, Caius slowly stood whilst simultaneously turning his back on the bloodwine cauldron.

Magnus took another healthy gulp of his hot bloodwine and set it down on the writing bureau. He flipped to the page in Odi's book where Caius had written his note and held it up, jabbing a finger on the 'See me' line. "Are you going to explain this?"

"Yes." That was something Caius could do with pleasure (almost). "You need to get him in line, Magnus," he said. "I can't have our…private disagreements…spilling into public forums."

The temptation arose in Caius to tell Magnus that it included the disagreements they had between themselves, too. The Juggernaut looked a little too pissed off with him, so he bottled it. Best to get the kid's screw-ups sorted out first.

As Caius spoke, Magnus bobbed his head, picturing Odi's day. From reading their emotions, he could tell Caius was being truthful and Odi was nervously guilty.

"This is Aro's complaint with Carlisle," said Magnus. "You need to understand how this is going to work."

"He's making out like I was airing our dirty laundry in public, Dad, and I wasn't." Odi slouched in his seat, scowling. "I was a little casual, that's all. Like the guards are casual with you in the Guard Hall."

Even as the words left his mouth, Odi knew they were bull, and he knew his father knew they were bull, too. That was the problem with having a father who could read your emotions—the guy was a walking, talking lie detector.

Magnus made no comment on it, though, choosing instead to respond to what Odi had said, rather than question why he'd lied. There was a partial truth in it, regardless.

"The Guard Hall is a place to be casual, son," he said. "It's rare I deal with guards in the hall. I take them to the office to sort issues out."

"You whipped Turk in the Guard Hall today."

Odi winced as soon as the words left his mouth. As anticipated, his muttering provoked his father instantly. Suddenly, the only thing he could see was Magnus Volturi with how close the man got to him.

"Make that the last time you talk to me about Turk, young one," said Magnus, finger wagging so close to Odi's face that it grazed his nose once or twice. "I know he's your pal, but he's screwed up today. I've only done what was necessary."

Odi squished himself into the plush sofa, nodding solemnly until his father relented and backed away again.

Once Magnus was safely back across the room with his bloodwine tankard, Odi had to have a final (quiet) word about Turk's predicament. "It wasn't necessary."

"Enough!"

Odi recoiled. The 'enough' was louder and sharper than the Denali girls got in the west tower and less justified in his mind. Even less justified was the self-satisfied grin on Caius's smug face. Just before Odi landed himself in even more trouble by telling the coven master to go fuck himself, Caius allowed the smallest of chuckles to escape his lips, drawing Magnus's attention.

"Caius, you had better wipe that smirk off your face or I'll do it for you."

With his hands up and stepping back, Caius pointed out what a ridiculous farce Odi was painting because there's no chance he would allow the little bastard to see sink him like that! Odi, for one, was talking rubbish—the trouble in the woods had nothing to do with him 'being casual', despite Odi's protest that casualness was all that occurred.

"Why would I even care?" he asked Magnus, imploring the man to see sense on the matter. "He's your kid—he can be casual with me if he likes."

"Yeah right," said Odi, assuming his father would know Caius was talking utter tripe, though worryingly, he appeared not to. He knocked back the last of his bloodwine and passed Dora his goblet to set on the table beside her.

Caius looked at Odi like he was the village idiot—Odi was starting to feel like he might be with his ill-thought out, hurried plans failing so abysmally in front of his eyes.

"Quite a few guards use my name," said Caius. "All the brats do—"

Odi got to his feet. "Stop lumping me in with the kids."

With Odi's stance, pathetic as it was, offering an attempt at being threatening, Caius felt free to match it in kind. He looked far more impressive. Odi wanted to back up, but his pride wouldn't allow it. When Caius sneered at him, wild werewolves wouldn't have had the strength to hold him back.

"You are one, you idiot," said Caius with a cocky half grin. "There's no difference between you and Alec."

"Cool it," said Magnus. "Both of you."

He pushed Odi back down to sit on the sofa, turned, and pushed Caius away. But by the time Caius was back, Odi was already up, and then so was Caius. Magnus felt far too long in the tooth for this nonsense.

"There's a big difference between being casual and being openly defiant, and today he's been the latter."

Odi tried to scoff away Caius's complaint, but the noise strangled in his throat when his father turned a stern eye on him. He knew the man was reading his emotions, and those traitorous feelings were grassing him up there and then.

Caius knew it, too, and continued to condemn the kid. "He was an embarrassment. Ask Aro if you don't believe me. You can ask anyone who was in the woods today."

As Magnus has his back to his baby boy, Odi set his sights on Caius, begging him with puppy dog eyes to shut his big fat trap. Suggestions of talking to Aro? Or anyone else in the woods? Odi knew Caius was angry, and in truth he didn't entirely blame him, but was he trying to have him executed?

Caius wanted to land the disrespectful little bastard in hot water for being such a pain in the arse that afternoon. Seeing Odi's hang-dog expression in his peripheral vision made it hard enough, so he avoided looking at the kid directly.

"If you'd seen him in action, he would have crawled back from those woods," said Caius.

Magnus could tell that was true. Dammit!

Odi had been the oldest of the Outcast mission crew, which wasn't a respectable look, and he was one of the oldest conscripted into the new schooling programme for the coven youth. Magnus and Freyr had told their son they expected him to lead by example—so had the Creator, for the love of the Gods! What kind of example had he set?

"It sounds to me like you owe some apologies, young one," said Magnus. "You've been out there shaming yourself, and your mother and me."

"Of course you're taking his side. You—"

Magnus cut Odi off before his self-indulgent rant could go any further. "I refuse to go down this road again, young one. I'm not just taking Caius's word over yours, Odi. My gift tells me he's being truthful whilst you are nervous and guilty."

"I didn't say Caius lied, Dad." Sometimes Odi hated his father's gift. It sank him before he could win the guy over. "There is more to it, though."

"I hope for your sake there's an awful lot more to it, son. You're in danger of still being grounded by bloody Easter at this rate!"

Even without blushing, embarrassment was evident on Odi's face, much to Caius's delight. The chuckled 'twat' he aimed in Odi's direction brought him back to Magnus's attention.

"Caius, knock it off!" the Juggernaut snapped. "If I have to tell you again…"

Brilliant! This is what Odi needed. His dad was angry with him, but he also felt annoyed with Caius. Odi had to harness that energy to save his own skin.

"He started winding me up as soon as he saw me, Dad." Odi stepped a little closer to the man. "He shoved me so hard I landed in the mud." To be fair, the state of his uniform confirmed his words alone, though Odi pointed out all the patches of dirt that remained. "Aro had me running through the woods for two hours straight, and he didn't defend me at all."

Magnus knew his boy spoke the truth, and his irritation with the pair of them increased further.

"I'll let you tell Freyr you started on her baby boy during your very first class with him." It was the cruellest tone Caius had ever heard Magnus use, and it sounded so wrong coming from the Juggernaut. "Do you remember what she promised you if you picked on him again, Caius?"

Caius's insides twisted again. He was going to murder that fucking kid! "How was I winding you up? What the hell are you talking about, Odi?"

"You know," Odi spat at the young master. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Are you on about the books?" Caius watched Odi, the smug grin on his face telling him he was right. Snivelling little shit. "I wasn't trying to wind you up. It was a fucking joke, you miserable little prick."

"Caius!"

Caius blanked his wife and focussed on Magnus. "Am I lying about that, or was I trying to have a laugh with him?"

Odi hadn't considered, either at the time or since, that Caius was joking. It was hard to tell because he could be such a mean bastard even when he was playing. How was Odi supposed to have known?

"You're not lying—"

That was all Caius needed. He cut Magnus off, shoving past the man to square up to Odi again. "Did you hear that, you prick?" He almost got his hands on the little bastard, but the Juggernaut caught his wrist in midair in his giant-sized grip.

"You're not lying, but you need to watch it." Magnus pulled the man back, causing Caius to leave the floor and land three feet from his target. "My patience is gone, Caius. Gone."

Caius snatched his arm free of the Juggernaut's hold and skipped around the man to get across the room. Magnus stayed between him and Odi, so they couldn't hope to attack each other, but Caius wasn't aiming for that—he wished to keep a little space between himself and Magnus. Standing behind Dora's sofa felt safer than risking something more humiliating coming from Magnus if he stayed within arm's reach.

"Odi, I shoved you because you'd purposely slammed your shoulder into me in your little tantrum." He saw Magnus's eyes cut across to Odi darkly, just as Caius had hoped. "I had to respond. It was a choice between shoving you or beheading you."

Magnus commanded Odi to explain himself, but Caius wasn't done.

"And what could I have done about the fucking running?" he asked the kid with a slick sneer. "You asked Aro if you could slack off before we'd even started, and he knew you'd done little but slack off all morning."

Odi welcomed the opportunity to defend himself, even if it was to Caius (anything to avoid answering his father was welcome by that point). "I wasn't slacking off; I. Was. Suffering."

"And just like Aro told you today, the rest of your little Outcast mates worked through their suffering," said Caius. "What makes you so special?"

"You could have been nicer to me. Ignoring me would have done. Nasty bastard."

Though the last two words were much quieter than the rest, Caius caught them, and they made him leave his sanctuary behind the sofa and head for Odi again. Until Magnus stopped him, pushing him back with a heavy hand against his chest. The look he gave him had him heading behind the sofa again.

"Before you start, is he wrong?"

Caius looked askance at the man.

"I've heard what you've said, Caius, and I will address it," said Magnus. "But could you have been nicer to him?"

Having watched Odi repeatedly sink himself by falling foul of the empath's gift, Caius decided against lying. He went a step further and told the exact truth.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bit of a cunt and I could be nicer to everyone." Caius heard his wife chuckle before she could stop herself. "He told me to go fuck myself twice and squared up to me in the woods for daring to talk to Turk. Twice."

Magnus closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gods be damned, Odi."

"He wouldn't be walking right now if he'd treated anyone else the way he's treated me today." That wasn't a lie, either. "Certainly not you. Not any other coven master, or Eleazar, or half the guards, or most of the kids—"

Odi was done. Completely done. Once his father read Aro's verdict of the woods, he was for the high jump anyway, so why should tolerate insults from Caius fucking Volturi? Just for the fun of it? Nope. No more.

"Fuck you, Caius!"

Magnus barked at his son to watch his mouth—he'd never stood for Odi cursing in his presence, and the boy knew it. Caius was winding him up, but under the circumstances, he didn't really blame him.

"Aw," Caius sneered at the kid. "Are you having another little tantrum?"

"You weren't just talking to Turk; you were threatening him. Jerk."

"Because he was shouting the odds at Phil and Rich for having the audacity to attend an open fucking event!"

"It had fuck all to do with you, you evil cunt!"

Caius cleared the sofa in one jump, but Magnus was quicker: both focused on Odi. Having already warned the boy about his language once, he saw no reason to warn him again. With one hand he yanked Odi into position (which had the added benefit of pulling him clear of Caius) and with the other, he grabbed his belt from its forgotten place on his comfy chair. The room fell silent as the kid received two solid slices across the back of his legs. The only sound came from Odi's whimpers and hurriedly offered apologies for his poor language (to his father, of course—he meant what he'd said so he wouldn't apologise to Caius).

Magnus accepted his boy had settled suitably and turned on Caius next.

"Unless you want one, you had better back up a step."

Absolutely not. Caius was not going down like that. Not in front of his wife and the brat.

"Have you read it yet? His report." Caius picked the book up from his writing desk where Magnus had left it and offered it to him. "Have you actually read it?"

Odi tried to take the book instead, only to have his hand slapped away by his father's belt. Magnus finally took the damned book for himself—he'd put it off for long enough.

Of all the times for his father to read that report, pacing around the ground-floor of the North Tower with his belt in one hand would have been Odi's very last choice. Thank the Gods Dora was there to take pity on him. She called to him softly and patted the seat next to her, which he gladly retook. It felt a little safer, somehow. She couldn't physically protect him from Caius, and certainly not his father, but the comforting arm around his shoulders and the way she told Caius to 'get fucked' made Odi feel a little better.

If only she could silence Magnus as well.

"You did what!"

Odi cringed into his seat and Dora's side simultaneously. He couldn't answer, as Magnus didn't explain what he was referring to.

"Well?" Magnus pushed, looking for some sort of explanation whilst his son caught flies. "What the hell were you playing at in the bloody woods?"

This gave Odi a starting point, a 2-hour window, as he noted the numerous possibilities.

"I—I don't know what you're reading, Dad."

Dora one-eyed the kid next to her. Odi was taller than her by about a foot, but he sat lower in the chair with how small he was trying to make himself.

"How bad has today been, Odi?" she whispered to him.

Magnus heard her. "Bloody awful!" he thundered, waving the book in the air. "I'm only on the first page of Aro's report and there are"—he flicked through—"three pages."

At least Dora's interruption had set Magnus back to pacing and reading rather than expecting answers from his son without asking actual questions. Caius's glee over the kid's awkwardness really wasn't helping.

Each complaint against his son saw Magnus pause, glare at Odi, growl something about wringing his damn neck or wiping the floor with him, before he continued.

"I've already told Phil to give Turk a good hiding for his behaviour today. You've earned double what he's got."

Caius laughed as Odi's eyes bulged.

"What? Dad—" He knew he'd 'earned' it—he wasn't dumb. But being sentenced in front of company was unnecessarily cruel.

"Don't you dare 'what' me, young one. Once I'm done here, we'll take care of it."

"What?" It slipped out without Odi realising. He threw his hands up along with some apologies when Magnus took a purposeful step towards him.

Fortunately for Odi, the stress of the situation rolled off him and pummelled Magnus through his gift. It sufficed to keep him at bay momentarily. He flung the report and his belt back onto his chair—sitting down was out of the question with the agitation he felt. He was so disturbed by what he'd read that he felt quite flustered. Pleased to have an excuse to conceal his belt and the bloody book, he shed his coat and placed that on his chair, too. He still had to loosen the top three buttons of his shirt and roll his sleeves to his elbows to feel some a little less hot and bothered.

"It can't have been that bad?" said Dora, wanting to defend Odi somehow.

Magnus scoffed. "If Aro has been truthful, it's been a shitshow."

That wasn't enough for Dora—Aro was prone to exaggeration at times, and she said so. Magnus didn't deny it and said he'd be sure to find a second opinion before he did anything about it.

"You should be respectful to all the coven masters running these classes." Magnus's eyes cut across to Caius and Odi grimaced. "Including him, young one."

"Including him," repeated Caius, derision evident in his tone. "Like I'm a special case."

"You're very special, love," said Dora. "And very mean, very spiteful, and very petty, and—"

"And very pissed off dealing with the coven brats."

Magnus turned on Caius at his comment, saying he had plenty to address with him in that regard, too, so he'd better back up, and he wouldn't be told again. Caius paid little attention because he reckoned he would, in fact, be told again, considering he had been told 'he wouldn't be told again' a few times already.

"Your…your…" Magnus stumbled after the word, unsure how to phrase what he needed to say. "Your issues" —which seemed wildly underselling the problems between Caius and Odi— "need to be dealt with in private unless you want the Creator joining in, got it?"

Caius felt just as uncomfortable at the idea of Basileus getting involved with them as Odi did, but he hid it better. "Get him involved," he said. "He'll remind the brat that grunts don't argue with Masters."

Though he wouldn't have put it quite like that, Magnus couldn't disagree. Caius wasn't doing himself any favours, though. His abrasion was merely adding to the conversation Magnus was going to have with him once Odi was out of the way.

Odi knew Caius was telling the truth—that is what Basileus would say. His father didn't deny it, neither did Dora. He glared at Caius with all the powerless malice he could muster. "So, he can do what he likes, and I just have to put up with it—"

Magnus raised a hand to cut him off. "No, son. You have your argument in private," he explained again. "He isn't above you in private, Odi."

Caius scoffed at that because of course he was above Odi every-fucking-where!

Magnus raised an eyebrow at the younger master, daring him to say something, anything. Caius wasn't playing that game directly with him. It was far safer to wind Odi up than the Juggernaut.

"Listen," he said to the kid. "You want to try your luck with me? Go ahead when we're in the tower. Obviously, I'll floor you."

Caius was so pleased with Odi's reaction that he missed Magnus's scowl darkening.

"From now on, when you try it out there, I will treat you like anyone else below me with a bad attitude. You really don't want me to do that, Odi." With a self-satisfied grin, Caius snorted to himself. "Again, obviously I'll floor you."

During his little tirade, Caius had stepped closer and closer to Odi on the sofa with Dora—she told him to leave him alone before looking to Magnus perplexed, willing him to say something.

"Don't worry, my dear," said Magnus. "I'm just letting him say his piece." He ignored Caius rolling his eyes at being permitted to speak in his own damn chambers and looked to Odi instead. "Son, if Caius had said any of that in public, I would have to nod along and agree with him."

Oh! What perfect timing! Caius had a few things to bring up with Magnus on that score! "So, you are aware that's what you're supposed to fucking do because you keep—"

The rest of his rant drowned out as Magnus continued talking to Odi.

"But we're in private now, where I am not his equal at all, so I can do this."

With no warning at all, Magnus turned on Caius, grabbed the lapels of his jacket in each fist and slammed him into the wall. Caius's feet left the floor, and the air left his lungs!

"You will not threaten my son anymore. I'm done, Caius. Done."

If Magnus was expecting an answer, he would have to wait until Caius could breathe again—for that he'd need to ease the pressure on his chest. He pressed the fists pinning Caius in place more firmly instead.

Caius winced and grabbed the man's wrists, attempting to pull them away. He could escape that position effortlessly with his skills, but his choice not to use them showed his respect for Magnus, even if neither of them recognised it at that moment.

After only a minute, Magnus released him and turned back to Odi. "Public versus private, son, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

Odi offered his father a half smile. He knew he was in a world of trouble—he really had screwed up on several levels, after all—but his father was defending him against Caius's poor treatment, too, and it meant so, so much.

Caius rubbed his upper chest where Magnus had pinned him, bruising already blooming from the pressure. He was seriously pissed off with all this shit being turned around on him—that's where it seemed to be heading. Odi had been a little twat in the woods and Caius hadn't battered him. He deserved a pat on the back, not fists in his chest, for fuck's sake.

"If Felix treated me the way Odi has today, I would have knocked him off his feet and expected Aro to do the same. And he would have, because he'd have been ashamed of his behaviour." In case Odi planned on using his age difference to Felix as a defence, Caius quickly added, "I'd say the same if it had been Carlisle. Basileus wouldn't stand for one of his sons or grandsons treating a guard the way he's treated me today, let alone a coven master."

"Okay," said Odi, all but begging Caius with his doleful eyes to stop going on about it now. "I get it. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"He knows it won't," said Dora, trying to assure the kid. "You could be nicer to him, Caius."

"I agree it's possible, unlikely, but possible." Caius gave Odi a sickly sweet, oh so fake smile as the kid glared back at him teary-eyed. "Happy?"

Odi opened his mouth to reply, but it was Magnus's voice Caius heard coming from behind him.

"I am far from happy with either of you," he said. "Not another word about it now." He cut through the air with his hand. "Odi, once I've had Aro's story confirmed" —though it was merely a formality in Magnus's mind— "you and I will set things straight, son."

Odi went a little green around the edges of his face. He rubbed a thumb and forefinger into his eyes to hide his shame, not that it helped any.

Quietly, Caius muttered 'good'. It was clear enough for everyone to hear.

"You're only making your own evening worse, Caius, you damn fool," said Magnus. He added a laugh without humour. "You have far more to worry about than Odi."

Caius very nearly asked for an explanation. Nearly. It was not a question he wished to be answered in front of an audience. He did well to suppress the extent of his shudder, but Dora picked up on—being man and wife for the better part of 3000 years gave her an edge at reading his body language, as one would expect.

"Feeling nervous, love?"

Caius glared at her. "No, so fuck off."

"Oh yes, you are," Magnus stated plainly, announcing the man's emotional state to the room. "And you should be."

The main chamber door bursting into life with heavy knocking prevented Caius from arguing back, as he might have liked to. At least he told himself that's why he didn't argue, not that he was, indeed, too nervous to try it.

"I'll get it then," said Dora, huffing a little as no one else had even bothered moving.

Though she had expected no one in particular, she expected Phillipe and Turk, least of all.

"My lady," said Phillipe. He jerked Turk to stand at his side rather than continue to hide behind him. "He needs to speak to Master Caius, please, if he's available."

"Oh, yes!" Dora quickly remembered the altercation in the woods—Odi hadn't been the only one to cause trouble. "Do both come in."

Phil walked tall, bowing his head to Dora politely. Turk shuffled behind him, looking ready to cry or throw up his last feed, or both. At least Dora had told them both to come inside—Phil had threatened to send him to speak to Caius solo. Then again, after the round of fucks he'd had from Phil, Turk wasn't entirely sure he wanted him around.

Oh no!

Worse than whether Phil was there, because Turk couldn't decide if that was good or not, Magnus and Odi were there, and both made eye contact with the young guard. Briefly, at least, before Turk wedded his eyes to the floor, refusing to walk any further into the room.

To Turk, Odi appeared as sad and stressed as he did. Embarrassed, too, although the young barkeep doubted it was to the same extent as him. Odi being around was bad enough, Magnus being there was horribly misfortunate. He'd have liked to have avoided the Guard Master for a few years.

Magnus looked even angrier than he had back in the Guard Hall—Turk wondered how he'd pissed the man off even more, though he guessed Caius might have added some embellishments to the events in the woods. Christ, he hoped not! He wouldn't survive anymore scorn—his evening had been an utterly miserable affair already. Why couldn't this have waited until he'd had a chance to lick his wounds a little?

"Turk!"

Phillipe's hiss shook Turk from his silent musings. His head shot up, his bewildered eyes leaving the floor in time to see Phil reaching for him. The older guard caught hold of him by the collar of his Volturi tunic, yanking him front and centre. Phil took position behind him and barked at him to 'get on with it'.

"M-Master—" Turk's voice broke mid word, and he had to clear his throat before he could continue. "Master Caius, I want to apologise for my…" Turk looked back at Phil who jutted his chin towards Caius. Turk quickly turned back, having remembered Phillipe's words when he was getting a round fucks in his dorm. "Attitude. My attitude in the woods today. I don't know what came over me. I'm very sorry. Thank you for your leniency. It will never happen again."

Turk looked at Phil again, who this time nodded curtly.

Before he replied to Turk, Caius clicked his fingers in Odi's face to get his attention. "That's what an apology looks like," he said, then turned to the young barman. "Don't worry about it, Turk. You weren't the worst of them."

Odi knew that was yet another jibe for him. He'd apologised plenty already, he was getting closer and closer to his dad setting him straight for it all and now his best mate was there…

"I wasn't the worst."

Dora felt the kid stiffen next to him, and despite her effort to keep him seated, he still took to his feet.

With Caius standing so close, it caused him to step backwards, and his eyes flashed dangerously at the intrusion to his space. If Phil and Turk had not been there, he would have still reacted, possibly by pushing the kid aside. Odi could not be considered a credible threat after all. But the fact is, they were there, and the little sod had stepped up to him a few too many times that day already. Caius had let enough go, so this time, he shot out a hand and wrapped it around Odi's throat, digging his nails into his flesh.

"Gods be damned!" Magnus wrapped his sizable hand around Caius's wrist, squeezing hard. "Let him go, Caius. He's a foolish boy and you know I'll see to him later."

Caius released him, but only because he had to—it was a choice between freeing Odi or fighting Magnus to keep hold of the kid, which was no choice at all.

Magnus shoved Odi back into his seat beside Dora and held Caius away with an outstretched arm. Odi stayed where Magnus had put him, rubbing away the ache in his neck. Caius, however, pushed Magnus's arm aside and jabbed a finger in Odi's face as he went on.

"You fucking were the worst, you little shit!"

"Enough, now," said Magnus, fixing Caius with a stern look, pulling him back again. "I'll deal with his foolishness later, Caius."

He had kept his cool when Caius had Odi around the throat to preserve Caius's status in front of Phillipe and Turk. If Caius refused to show some appreciation for that by keeping the hostility going in 'public' when he was supposed to deal with it in private, then Magnus wouldn't wait until they were alone, either.

"I'd rather deal with the dumb fuck myself," said Caius, again going to Odi.

"Oi! Knock it off." Magnus gave up on all pretence. He snatched Caius in close by the front of his jacket, then shoved him away just as quickly—Caius almost stumbled in his confusion over the abrupt change in the man's demeanour. "You start and I'll finish—is that what you want?"

"He's the one who fucking started!"

"And I've told you I'll deal with it, so leave it now. Please." Every word Magnus spoke had been through gritted teeth. He was no better when he left Caius and turned on Odi. "I've read all the reports, son, and yes, you were the worst."

Odi only open his mouth to reply. Not a sound came out before Magnus interrupted him. "You were," he snapped. "Now shut your damn mouth."

Satisfied both Caius and Odi were at least sullenly settled for the time being, he returned his attention to his bewildered guards.

"What are you doing with him now, Phil?"

Phil's eyes snapped to Magnus and narrowed slightly, wondering what kind of answer he hoped for? It must have been obvious he'd already whipped the young guard, as instructed, and he had no wish to humiliate Turk by spelling it out in front of everyone.

"It's already done, Master."

Considering how sensitively Phil had handled the matter, the bolt of embarrassment that hit Magnus's empathetic gift took him by surprise.

"Get a hold of yourself, young one," he said to Turk. He toyed with withdrawing a little of the tension to help steady his nerves, but thought better of it, preferring instead to continue addressing Phillipe. "I can see that, Phil. But now?"

"Oh, right," said Phil, catching on. "He's telling me he needs to work on the bar, Master. Rich is happy to stay on there and I want him to stay in his dorm but—"

Turk couldn't keep quiet. He had to defend himself, he just had to. He cut Phil off mid-sentence. "Freya said I'm allowed to work on the bar. It's my bar—"

"It's my bar, in my Guard Hall, young one," Magnus reminded him. "If you hope to keep that job, then you had better buck your ideas up."

"We don't bring feeds into the coven anymore. I'll starve to death if I'm not earning and I can't do anything else around here…" Turk was talking to himself, though he believed it to be a valid concern.

Phil rolled his eyes to the heavens (so did everyone else). "Because me and Rich would watch you starve?"

Turk knew they wouldn't, but that wasn't his point. "It's not your job to feed me."

"It's not our job to provide you with drinks off the top shelf either, but you've been sticking those on our tab for the last year."

That was a little different in Turk's mind. The coven's top shelf vodkas and whiskeys were bloody expensive, and he earned way less than Phil and Rich. From the smirk Magnus gave him, Turk knew he'd lost the argument, regardless.

"Now that we've taken care of your concerns," said Magnus, knowing Turk's fear was "Whatever Phil tells you is happening next is what is happening next. Got it? Unless you want me taking over?"

With sagging shoulders, Turk dropped his head and fixed his eyes on his boots. "Yes, sir," he said, dejected.

"Yes?" Phillipe asked gruffly. "What do you mean, yes.?"

Turk's head soon bounced back up when he realised what he had agreed to. "Shit—no!" he said first to Phil. "Magnus, I meant yes, I get it, not yes, you! Fuck."

Phil covered his eyes, shaking his head, thinking he would send Turk solo for this part next time. Either that or Rich could do the honours. When the guard told his charge it was time to go to his dorm this time, Turk seemed eager to follow his instruction—anything to get out of the North Tower!

"Phil, before you go," said Magnus, unintentionally prolonging Turk's awkwardness a little longer. "What can you tell me about Odi today?"

Magnus raised an eyebrow at Odi when his boy looked set to complain. That was all it took to keep the kid quiet as he'd been instructed, and Magnus looked at his guard expectantly.

"Honestly?" Phil asked, and Magnus nodded with his mouth set to a grim line. "He was shocking, Master. An embarrassment. I've never seen anyone in our coven behave like Odi did today. Master Caius showed great restraint."

Phil was not a strong supporter of Caius, so he was not biased in favour of the master. If anything, Magnus would have expected the guard to speak to Odi's advantage. Bobbing his head gently, Magnus went to his chair and fished about beneath his coat, pulling Odi's book free. He flipped through to Aro's pages and handed it over to Phillipe, asking his guard to read it.

Once he was done, Phillipe handed it back. "The king has been very fair, Master."

"Fair?" Magnus repeated, looking over his shoulder at Odi, who cringed away. Dora closed her eyes for a moment, too. She lost hope that Aro had been exaggerating. "Aro hasn't overstated events?"

Phillipe shook his head. "Understated if anything, Master."

Caius shook Phillipe's hand before he left with Turk for his damning response to Magnus's simple questions.

Magnus saw his guards to the door and closed it behind them before turning on his son. "Your fate is sealed, Odi," he said. "One word about Turk and I'll hand you over to Phil once I'm done with you."

Odi folded his arms tight across his chest. One ankle rested on the opposite knee, his leg bouncing in agitation. "I said nothing,"

True, he hadn't said a word…yet. But he didn't have to.

Dora rested a hand on his thigh to draw his attention to the bounce there. "Wipe that look off your face. It's saying plenty," she suggested in a whisper. "Relax a little, Odi. Don't make it any worse."

He knew she was right. Odi felt his lip twitching into a snarl and there was a growl brewing in his chest that his father would gut him for if released. Knowing there would be little gained in doing anything else, he swiftly sorted himself out. But his effort in playing nice should yield some benefit…

"So, Dad, Carlisle and I were talking about going back to the Guard Hall. That okay with you?"

Caius burst out laughing. "Are you fucking mental?" To be fair, the kid had bigger balls than he'd given him credit for.

"You aren't going anywhere, young one," said Magnus, ignoring Caius for the moment as he agreed with him. "You've earned yourself another week's grounding. When you aren't in classes, you're in this tower—"

"You aren't serious?"

"Deadly." Magnus's voice had dropped so low he even unnerved himself a little! "We'll take care of the rest before you go to bed."

That set Caius off laughing again. Before he could cause another row, Magnus moved matters along. "Perhaps Dora would help you with that homework Marcus gave you," he suggested to his boy, willing Dora to accept. He had no desire to send Odi home alone, and he knew Freyr would be covering the Guard Hall in his absence—she knew the tasks her husband had to complete that evening.

"I'd love to," said Dora, offering both Magnus then Odi a warm smile. They both smiled back, naturally, but she caught her husband's scowl at the same time. "This is my home, too, love, And I'd like your little brother to stay." She directed Odi to the table and started gathering supplies after he told her he had to write a report for the Library Master.

Caius had scoffed at her choice of terms for the kid, though didn't correct her as he flopped into her vacated seat.

"Your brat isn't staying here if you're not," he told Magnus.

Part of him wanted Magnus to fuck off and take his kid with him…another part of him wanted Odi at the table doing his homework, so Magnus had to stay. His feelings made no sense, even to him.

"I'm not going," said Magnus, scoffing in the same manner Caius had. "I have a few things to talk to you about first." He collected his tankard from the bureau and swallowed down the remaining bloodwine in three gulps. "Quite a few."

That felt ominous. Suddenly, Caius's feelings cleared up—take your brat and fuck off!

"Stop trying to make me choose between you," said Magnus. "It won't work."

"I can't make you do anything—I'm not your equal, apparently,"

Magnus bent at the waist. From Caius's vantage point, the Juggernaut filled his entire view of the room, and it was most uncomfortable. "Exactly," the man said. "You're not."

Caius tutted and rolled his eyes as though it would salvage some pride. "I think you rather missed my point."

"I didn't miss it—I ignored it. You need to remember our public and private faces, too, Caius."

"Are you fucking jok—"

A rough pinch to his chin cut his speech short.

"Finish that sentence, I dare you." Magnus held him steady as they glared into each other's eyes. "Go on, then."

He didn't. Caius tried changing tactics completely and reined himself in instead.

"You keep rebuking me in public, Magnus. I have to throw it back or I look like…like I'm deferring to you." There was clearing nothing worse in Caius's mind. "You're the one pushing me into giving you a mouthful, and then I'm getting it in the neck from Basileus, and Aro's asking questions and—"

"You're right."

"I am?" Caius asked, surprised Magnus had rolled over so easily. "I mean, I am," he said more certainly. "I am."

Magnus took a seat next to Caius and sighed inwardly, thinking on how to word things. "I've been under a lot of pressure recently, mostly because of you."

Caius sneered and scowled. "Odi—"

"No." Magnus held up his hand. "You've made life difficult for everyone, especially Odi, for two bloody years because you're jealous for no good reason."

Briefly, Odi and Caius locked eyes. Odi sensibly looked back down at his paper and Caius turned his to glare at Magnus, telling him to shut up.

Magnus continued without acknowledging Caius at all. "You've had reason to be upset—"

"Upset?" it sounded pathetic to Caius's ear. "Try pissed off."

"—since Halloween, but you aren't being reasonable blaming him for things he knew nothing about."

Caius tried again to tell him to shut up, and again it fell on deaf ears.

"So yes," said Magnus. "I've dropped us in it a few times in front of Aro and I apologise for that, but keep in mind I've only ever reacted to your actions, Caius."

Despite cursing silently to himself, Caius knew he had no way to deny it.

"From now on," Magnus continued. "I will be more aware of who's around and your status in the coven, as you will be of mine. But I will continue to respond to your actions."

'More aware of who's around'. That's what Caius wanted. He didn't care if Magnus pulled him up in front of Basileus and Atia. Even Marcus. Well, he did. It was hardly his idea of a fun time, but it was bearable, unlike the rest of the coven being in the vicinity. It was hardly an enormous concession to request their absence.

"That is all I'm asking," he said, sighing in relief and…

'Respond to your actions'…fuck,

"Actually, no," said Caius, panic replacing ease. "That's not what I—"

"Don't worry." Magnus slapped his hand down hard on Caius's thigh, grinning, glad to see he understood what he'd said. "I'll be as discreet as I've always been."

Like a shovel in the face, thought Caius. "Magnus, wait a minute—"

"We all need to be more mindful, Caius." Magnus continued grinning with faux innocence. "That is what you said, right?"

Caius couldn't catch his breath. Granted, he didn't need air, but it was uncomfortable to find himself unable to take it in. Wisely, he exited the room.

Magnus watched him leaving for the hall to the bedchambers. He was glad he hadn't tried to leave the tower—he didn't fancy having to chase him around the coven to bring him back. "I went too far," he said to himself with a grimace.

"No, this is good. It means he agrees with you." Dora winced. She knew that was a stretch, even as the words left her mouth. "Or that he can't think of an argument against you."

"I don't want to win by default, Dora."

"Hold firm with him, Magnus. Please."

Dora had no need to worry. Magnus had every intention of holding firm. It was imperative, in fact.

January 1690 had been a disaster, and Caius was at least partly to blame for it. The coven youth had been a pain in the arse, yes, but they were young and had many reasons. While Caius had reasons for being a prat, too, people would expect him to be held fully accountable as a grown man. Which was Magnus's unenviable job.

Since Halloween, Magnus had given Caius too many inches and, in response, he'd taken mile after mile. Today had been the final straw for Basileus, for Magnus, too. Caius needed clearer boundaries than a bloody toddler and firmer handling than any other delinquent underling—that was pretty much how the Creator had put it to Magnus. If the Juggernaut had a hope of keeping Caius, he had to prove to the Creator he could handle him, and this was his last chance.

"You will, won't you?" Dora asked, breaking through Magnus's thoughts.

Magnus looked over to the table where she sat with his son, who was also waiting for his answer.

Before he had chance, all three of them flinched hearing something glass-like smash in the Master bedchamber. Dora scowled and started chuntering to herself, knowing it would likely be her possessions Caius would use to vent his anger.

"Maybe give him a little time before you next talk to him, Magnus," she said. "You know what he's like when he's in a bad mood."

"There's no time for waiting."

Magnus dug his hand under his coat on his chair and pulled out the belt he'd discarded when he'd arrived in the ground-floor suite. After telling both Dora and Odi not to follow him under any circumstances, and Odi to crack on with his homework, he headed to Caius's bedchamber where he planned to put the hostility between them to rest.

As he opened the door, a Grecian urn smashed against it, shattering to smithereens. Magnus entered the room and slammed the door shut behind him. He looked disapprovingly down his nose at the younger master, shaking his head. The vase had been quite close to hitting him.

The suites in the North Tower were slightly smaller than those in the original South Tower, but still palatial and befitting vampiric royalty. As such, Caius and Dora's master bedchamber was a large, open space, flooded with light in the daytime from the four windows that opened onto the training fields. By night, the heavy window shutters and thick velvet curtains protected the room from any drafts and deadened the sound from travelling in and out…which Caius would later be glad of.

An oversized four-posted bed against the window wall dominated the room. As adult vampires, neither Caius nor Dora slept, but had they, their bed could have accommodated four or five grown men sleeping the night away comfortably—it really was unnecessarily large. Of course, they found the size very necessary and put it to good use regularly. Some elements Caius found less essential. It puzzled him why they needed black silk curtains on the bed when they never drew them. The same went for the matching piles of cushions—they were just something to throw on the floor and pick up again. Utterly pointless, but his wife seemed attached to such things.

Aside from two love seats beside the fire, Dora's elaborate dressing table was the only other item of furniture in the room. There wasn't an inch of table-top available as the entire surface had been covered with lotions and potions and many devices that to Magnus's eyes looked more suited to Caius's playroom. Knowing Dora as he did, he wouldn't have been surprised to find out that's where she got them from, despite her insistence that they were beauty products. A single door gave access to the two walk-in closets. Caius periodically broke the full-length mirror, so its availability depended entirely on his mood and whether it had been replaced. In fact, Dora was currently in possession of her mirror, but the glass-like crash Magnus had heard from the main chamber had been Caius destroying it once again.

Magnus toed the Grecian vase on the floor. He was sure it was Dora's. Caius always claimed he did such things without forethought, but he conveniently retained the presence of mind to only ruin his wife's things, never his own.

"Make that the last thing you smash in your little tantrum, Caius."

"I can smash my own shit up if I want, thanks."

And just to prove he could, Caius snatched up a bottle of scent from Dora's dressing table and threw it across the room. The glass shattered to near dust from the force whilst the gold stopper crumpled into a lump and wedged itself into the wood.

Caius was caught off guard when Magnus laughed mirthlessly.

"You are begging for it, aren't you?"

"Certainly not," said Caius, indignant. "What am I supposed to have done?"

"Do you want the entire list, or just the highlights?"

"There isn't a fucking list, Magnus."

Caius made a sterling attempt to pass the man, aiming for the bedchamber door and freedom beyond. He failed miserably, cut off by the Juggernaut who grabbed him by his shirt collar and flung him, a little bewildered, crashing backwards onto his bed before starting on that supposedly non-existent list.

He began by asking just what the hell Caius was playing at by telling Aro he'd heard Odi 'begging through the ceiling' when Freyr had walloped him for his involvement in the mini mission. Caius tried to excuse such lies with more lies.

"I only said that to placate Aro," he said. "So that he wouldn't go after Odi again. So that he'd know the kid had been dealt with."

Lying to an empath was stupid, as Magnus reminded him, not to mention gutless. Magnus told him that, too.

Caius took it on the chin about being stupid. Being gutless was harder to swallow—it was true, but it stung. Particularly with the look of disdain his father figure threw his way.

"You didn't cope so well yourself when Freyr took you in hand, did you?" Magnus scratched his bearded chin as he thought back two evenings before. "You begged a little yourself, Caius."

Caius said nothing in reply as shame took over his senses. He was grateful Magnus had thrown him to sit on his bed, as he doubted he could have stayed standing in that moment.

"I'll not repeat this warning, so I hope you're paying attention to me," said Magnus. "If you ever do that to him again, I'll drag you into the Guard Hall and I'll hold you down if I have to while I tell every sordid secret about us in excruciating detail."

Caius thanked his long-dead brother for making him a vampire so his humiliation wouldn't show on his face. The only solace, ironically, came from Magnus, who spoke in a voice so low that even if Dora and Odi had been pressed against the door, they wouldn't have heard him.

Magnus had been purposefully quiet, of course. He didn't wish to give Odi any ammunition against Caius. Odi didn't have a vindictive nature, but his boy could be driven to such actions if the situation demanded. Caius had a knack for antagonising even the most placid amongst them.

"I suggest you acknowledge me, Caius," said Magnus. "I want to know you won't humiliate Odi like that again."

Caius gulped. He had yet to take a breath, and his throat felt painfully dry. How could he answer such a warning beyond 'get fucked'? 'I would burn the coven to the ground if you tried it', perhaps? Hardly seemed appropriate.

Magnus collected his belt from the man's bed and doubled it over, moving purposefully slowly. He had every intention of whipping Caius that evening, but he hadn't planned on it just yet. He hoped seeing the implement in his hand would spur Caius into response, yet he still seemed dazed.

Sighing to himself as he would have preferred to put this off for a while, he hooked a hand around Caius knee and gave a tug. The action saw Caius simultaneously slide down the headboard of his bed and brought him to his senses.

"Magnus—"

His complaint turned into a strangled yelp when the Juggernaut sliced the length of his folded belt along the side of his left thigh.

"For fuck's sake!" Caius's hands at once moved to tend to the burning flesh, alternating between squeezing and rubbing to take away the sting. "What the fuck was that for?"

Though thoroughly annoyed, Magnus huffed and repeated himself because he had to. "I want to know you won't humiliate Odi again."

"Of course I fucking won't!"

"And did you hear what will happen if you do?"

"Yes, I heard you." Beneath his breath, Caius muttered some choice names for Magnus until the man held his belt high and raised his eyebrow. That was all it took for Caius to clamp his mouth and keep those choice names in his head.

Magnus dropped his belt back on the bed at Caius's feet, so Caius pulled himself up to sit upright again with his legs criss-crossed, so he was further away from it. That left room for Magnus to sit at the foot of the bed. That suited Caius better—it seemed less oppressive for them both to be seated rather than Magnus stalking around his room like a wild animal about to pounce and rip his throat out. Magnus had been doing no such thing, of course, but as Caius's was so on edge, it felt that way to him.

"For a week now," said Magnus, getting back to the list. "You and Eleazar have been moping around the coven, pissing and moaning to anyone who will listen about how pointless our new plans are, how your involvement is beneath you…"

He drifted off, seeing Caius was paying no attention. The younger master wasn't even looking in his direction, focusing instead on the flames dancing on a solitary log in the fireplace. He seemed not to notice that Magnus had spoken, or that he'd stopped.

With a sharp movement, Magnus refocused Caius's attention by bringing down a heavy hand on his exposed inner thigh.

With the action being so unexpected, Caius had no time to prepare a response. A shouted obscenity and kicking out with the same leg seemed an entirely natural, if foolish, reaction—one that earned him a second smack as Magnus caught his kick and held him in place.

"Who the hell do you think you're kicking, boy?"

Caius tried to snatch his foot free, but got nowhere fast. There was no way to deflect the slaps Magnus assaulted him with—no sooner than he covered one section of his leg, Magnus landed his bear-sized paw in another.

"Stop hitting me!"

Magnus scoffed in his face. "I haven't hit you, Caius. You'd know about it if I had."

After receiving a punch in the face from the man in Odi's place earlier in the month, Caius understood the truth of it. Yes, he would know about it. Magnus was smacking him in the manner of a pissed off parent…he'd rather take another punch!

"Do I need to continue, or will you pay me attention?"

Caius found it impossible to dignify that with an answer. He refused to until Magnus landed another swipe like the first that led to him kicking the Juggernaut, right on his tender inner thigh.

"For fuck's sake, Magnus!"

He squeezed his fists together to avoid punching the bastard in the face—that's what he told himself, at least. It had nothing to do with needing to distract himself from the sting and the tears gathering behind his eyes.

He had been in innumerable battles, exceeding his ability to tally them, despite his vampiric memory. How many times had the Creator beaten him senseless until his bones broke? All that Caius could cope with. He'd get angry, resentful, maybe even vengeful. But that was the sum of his emotional response. Yet, somehow, for reasons he couldn't understand, Magnus had the ability to upset him with only a few smacks and a look!

"The fucking kids in this coven have fuck all to do with me."

Magnus took a deep, steadying breath. He didn't appreciate Caius's abrasion, but at least they were on the right topic now.

"You are a coven master, Caius. The young ones are members of this coven. They concern you whether you like it or not."

Caius drew his knees to his chest and balanced his elbows on them, hooking his hands together as he scowled at Magnus over the top of them. He wasn't happy, but he had no response. Not one that wouldn't land him with yet another slap, at least.

"You and Eleazar will lead the classes, regardless of you believing it beneath your dignity. We have discussed it and—"

"We, who?" Caius asked. "Who are you discussing me with?"

Magnus closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Caius was arguing for the sake of it now, he was sure of it, as he'd know who Magnus had discussed him with already.

"Freyr and I have discussed your attitude with Basileus and Atia. And Marcus," he added, remembering his fellow master had been around for a few discussions as well.

"Talking about me behind my back." Caius tutted. It was just as he'd expected, but he still wasn't pleased. "Do you know the meaning of loyalty?"

Magnus narrowed his eyes and pulled his shoulders back. He gathered his belt, folded it in two and smirked a little as Caius flinched.

"I don't need your permission to discuss you with my mates. And it has nothing to do with loyalty, son," said Magnus, pointing at Caius with his belt. "Do you think Basileus checked with Eleazar before he had a good moan about him?"

With Magnus flinging that belt around while he talked, Caius paid much more attention than he had been. He was unable to avert his eyes at all, in fact. To protect himself, he kept his knees drawn to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He hoped it wasn't too obvious what he was doing, though of course it was.

"That's different," he said. "Basileus and Eleazar, I mean."

"Oh, yeah?" asked Magnus. "How?"

He was daring Caius to say it. Daring him to say Eleazar is the Creator's son, so he had no reason to ask, unlike the relationship between Magnus and Caius. Magnus almost wanted him to say it. Give me a reason to let rip, I dare you.

But Caius headed in a different direction altogether.

"Because the girls are his fucking kids, Magnus!" Caius said, tugging his legs in tighter. "Why else?" he huffed and shook his head. "Why do I have to keep saying the same fucking thing? What are you smiling about?"

"Nothing, nothing."

Magnus schooled his features quickly. It was nice that Caius hadn't discounted their relationship as being entirely different to Basileus and Eleazar. So nice that he had grinned without realising it. He had to get himself under control, though, and he knew it. Not only would his satisfaction wind Caius up, but it could also have gone the other way. Provoking the younger coven master into rejecting him was a silly game for Magnus to play considering he would be the one to suffer the heartache for it, despite his initial desire to use it as an excuse to give him a round of fucks. It was especially foolish as Magnus already had plenty of reasons to focus on in that regard.

"I'll not discuss this with you again. For the last week, Freyr and I have told you, as has Basileus, that you will lead a class a day for the foreseeable future. I know Atia has told you that you can attend the classes instead, if you'd prefer."

Caius's eyes grew very wide.

Magnus answered his unasked question with a small smirk—he couldn't help himself. "Yes, I know all about your little stunt in the training fields today."

"Little stunt," Caius repeated mockingly.

He sounded more boy than man, repeating the words in such a way, but he didn't know what else to say. It had been a 'little stunt'. Certainly discourteous towards Atia, which was bad enough, but he'd played a damn dangerous game with Freyr. After their very recent dance, Caius had surprised himself being so brazenly disrespectful towards her. It was sickening, and it wasn't just for what she might do it response once they were alone. That hadn't entered his head at the time.

"You realise that Freyr gave me a dressing down in front of the coven youth today, don't you?"

"Yes," said Magnus. "I was told she also made sure it was quiet enough that no one would have heard a word."

Caius couldn't deny the truth of it. Even when he'd asked her to leave him be and stop talking—which came out as 'back the fuck off' and 'shut the fuck up'—Freyr hadn't raised her voice above a whisper in an effort to preserve his pride. She hadn't even been the one to tell Magnus about it, according to the Juggernaut. He knew every word, however. When Magnus repeated those words to him, Caius could have crawled inside himself and died. He wouldn't have blamed the man if he'd wrapped that belt around his disrespectful mouth.

"The next time you set eyes on my wife, you will apologise to her," said Magnus. "And Atia. I don't care where we are or who is around. Got it?"

Caius did not like the sound of that—the crawling inside himself and dying sounded more achievable. The elite were meeting in the Guard Hall at midnight, so that would be the next time he'd see both women. He didn't do apologies well at the best of times, let alone public ones. Fuck. Could he do that? Caius wasn't sure.

At least Freyr wouldn't make it difficult for him. Neither would Atia. He hoped Aro wouldn't begin a new barrage of questions over it if he bore witness—he seemed less interested, and more amused on the few occasions he'd seen Freyr rebuke Caius. Because she's just a woman, Caius assumed.

Crack!

"Magnus!" Caius sprang off his bed, flashing across the room to tuck into the corner between the window wall and the door to his closet. "Why did you do that?"

He didn't even know where to rub, where to hold. Caius had been hugging himself for protection, so when Magnus wrapped his belt around the left side of his legs, he'd caught his left thigh, calf, arm and his right hand! All with one whack!

Magnus watched him from his position on the bed, seemingly unbothered by the younger man's dismay. "I'm done with being ignored, Caius."

"I wasn't ignoring you, you mad bastard," said Caius, bewildered. "I was just…thinking."

"Do you need a longer list of reasons for the whipping you have coming, or will that do?"

Caius couldn't believe he was pushing ahead! Surely to God he was taking the piss at this point? How could the guy talk about whipping him more when he was already sporting a fair few war wounds—he flexed his poor fingers, sure the bones were crumbling beneath his skin? His attempt to shake the ache away only hurt more, so he quit that as soon as he started.

Seeing the man moving to stand, Caius realised he was losing himself in his own head again and failing to acknowledge Magnus had spoken.

"I don't agree with half of your list, Magnus."

Magnus stilled his approach, glad to see Caius was learning. "I have more," he said, smiling.

"Where have you got it all from?" Caius realised he didn't need an answer. "Basileus." He didn't wait for Magnus to confirm it—he didn't need him to. "It's always fucking him, that overzealous prick—"

Magnus closed the distance between them in an instant and whipped his hand across Caius's mouth so quickly that it shocked them both. He instantly regretted the action when blood burst from Caius's lip. It was an act Magnus rarely performed with any intent, his hands being too large and being too strong to do so without causing actual damage to the recipient. Sometimes, though, it happened almost on instinct. Magnus knew Basileus would go tramping through their minds as soon as he set eyes on the coven masters in the Guard Hall that night and should he hear Caius calling the Creator names unchecked, it could—would—end in disaster for everyone. Things were too tense already.

Caius held his left cheek with both hands. This was turning into the worst bloody evening of his life! "You caved my fucking face in at the start of the month. Wasn't that enough for you?"

To his credit, Caius looked almost as shame-faced for bringing up the unfortunate incident as Magnus did when being reminded of what he'd done.

With Magnus momentarily dumbstruck by his own behaviour, Caius attempted to move around him. He would have liked to put some distance between them, but Magnus wasn't having it.

"Let me look at you."

Magnus pried Caius's hands away from his face. With his own hands placed either side of the younger man's head, he held him square so he could assure himself that his jaw wasn't out of alignment.

"You're alright, you're alright," he said, as much to calm himself as to persuade Caius.

Flicking his tongue across his teeth, Caius tasted blood along the gum line and felt at least three of his back teeth were now loose, so not as 'alright' as he would have preferred to be.

Still holding Caius's face in his hands, Magnus went one step too far and wiped a stray tear away with his thumb. He hadn't knowingly shed the damn thing, so Magnus drawing attention to it felt cruel, almost.

"You've said yourself I'm alright so get off."

Caius shoved the man roughly aside and went back to his bed. He didn't sit on it this time, however—he needed to be ready to move in case Magnus came at him!

With a shrug, Magnus bobbed his head and got back on task. He was a little surprised to see Caius so ready to get on with things—Magnus would have liked more time to assure himself Caius was okay—but if that's what he wanted, then so be it.

"Alright, as you wish," said Magnus. "Let's get back to the list, shall we?"

Caius's eyes bulged. They were done now, surely? The guy had nearly taken his jaw off, for fuck's sake! Was the Juggernaut aiming for actual bodily harm tonight?

"You've antagonised Basileus today every time you've been in his presence."

As he spoke, Magnus jabbed two fingers of his left hand in Caius's direction. As he held his belt in the same hand, the damn thing jabbed away with them. It was most unnerving.

"Not on purpose," Caius blurted, his hands held out in front of him to hold him off. "He finds my presence antagonising."

Magnus raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "First thing this morning, he sought you out in the dungeons and told you not to drink until after your class with the young ones, correct?"

Caius nodded, smirking, knowing what was coming.

"How long did you wait?"

With a hand in front of his mouth to conceal the growing smile, Caius said, "Ages," stifling a chuckle. "At least until he'd left the dungeons."

Magnus's eyes darkened and his knuckles grew white around the belt he held in the hand at his hip.

"Do you think this is funny?" His voice had dropped an octave or two, no longer sounding like himself.

"He has no right telling me when I can—"

"I told you the same thing last night," Magnus reminded him. "I told you not to drink until after your class, Caius."

Caius had forgotten about that in his haste to put Basileus in his place.

"I—I—um…"

"Do I have no right, either?" Magnus flashed in front of Caius and the younger master braced himself for yet another swipe of the man's belt. He found his head tilted upwards by a firm hand beneath his chin instead. "I asked you a question. Do I have no right, either?"

Caius gulped. He tried to look away, but standing so close meant anywhere he looked, the Juggernaut was still very much in his eyeline. This turned out to be quite fortunate as it meant Caius saw Magnus's left arm twitch and his hand rise. Cursing himself, he realised he had failed to respond again.

"I forgot," he said quickly. "About you saying I shouldn't drink until after the session. I forgot."

"How convenient."

To be fair to Caius, Magnus could tell he wasn't lying about forgetting their conversation. He knew, however, that he would have only forgotten, as he'd have been so preoccupied with putting the Creator in his place.

"You gave him more attitude when he came to see you before your class, and even more in the Guard Hall after it," Magnus continued.

When Magnus laid his abrasion bare, Caius couldn't deny it.

"So that's someone else you will make your apologies to when you next see him."

Caius baulked at that. Freyr and Atia were fair enough. Basileus only received any sort of apology from Caius when he was trying to end a beating. Those days were behind him since Magnus had taken him under his wing the night he was forced to torture Lucius to near-death 17 years ago. He hoped they'd stay there, too.

"I'm not apologising to him," said Caius resolutely. "He doesn't deserve it, the miserable—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Caius!"

Magnus dragged a hand down his face. More insults from Caius towards Basileus would only further sour coven relations further. Magnus was supposed to be proving he could temper the younger coven leader, not provoke a stronger reaction, for heaven's sake!

"Come on, Magnus," Caius whined. "You know he's been on my case since you all got back from France."

"Aye, you've given him good reason to be, before and since. You've given half the bloody coven good reason to be!"

Caius knew it was true, but it didn't change his stance. He maintained eye contact with the man to prevent being accused of ignoring him again.

"You will apologise to Basileus…"

Caius rolled his eyes and looked set to spit some diatribe in response. Before he had the chance, Magnus clamped a hand around his mouth to cut him off, just as he had in the main chamber to prevent Caius from saying something regretful—the younger master was certain he'd be wearing the Juggernauts fingerprints along his jawline to the Guard Hall that night.

"Show him the respect he is due as the Creator of our kind and apologise for your attitude today." Even with his face pinned in the Juggernaut's vice grip, Caius still refused. His glare alone demonstrated his lack of submission on the matter. "Or, if you'd prefer, you can show me some respect and apologise to him because I'm telling you to."

Caius relaxed his stance, and Magnus experienced a shift in his emotions. Less angry, more confused. It was enough for Magnus to release the hold he had on Caius's jaw.

Immediately, Caius's hand flew to his face and rubbed at his aching bones, sure the Juggernaut had done some actual damage this time. He hadn't, but only the Gods knew how.

"How will apologising to him show you any respect?"

"Basileus is my best mate, Caius. And my boss," said Magnus. "How do you think I feel when he comes to me complaining about the attitude that you're giving him?" He couldn't hide the shudder of shame that traversed his body. "Maybe it was different in your day, but in mine…"

Magnus drifted off. They were getting off track again and time was ticking on. Besides, he'd pushed Caius a few times already. If he kept pushing, at some point he would push too far, and Caius would push back. Magnus would be the one to lose out in the end when Caius pointed out the Juggernaut had no reason to feel parental as he wasn't the man's son.

As it was, Magnus didn't have to say anything. Caius wasn't a fool. He knew what Magnus was referring to. How many times had he seen Basileus give out a round of fucks when someone had disrespected a friend of his? In the early days of the coven, Aro and Caius were the ones on the receiving end and Marcus was the only 'friend' of note. In recent times, the Creator included Magnus, Freyr, and, of course, Atia, in his inner circle, and directed the round of fucks more intensely towards his sons and grandsons.

Caius found himself in another quandary, one he seemed in oh so often with Magnus. An impossible situation. If he refused to apologise to Basileus, it would be a clear disrespect toward Magnus. It might even be interpreted as a rejection of Magnus as his father figure. Despite not wishing to even think in such terms, the idea of losing Magnus and Freyr in their parental roles made him unwell.

Then there was the other option…apologise to the Creator, most likely in the middle of the bloody Guard Hall of all places, with the rest of the elite sitting inches away. Basileus would enjoy the spectacle, he assumed, and seemingly Magnus wanted it to be public, too. Expected it, even. Is this a punishment of sorts? It appeared to be the case.

Yet again, Caius was being asked to choose Magnus or reject him, and to prove that choice. There were very few people in the coven who knew about the developing relationships in the North Tower, but Caius was starting to wonder if his life would be easier if he just blew his own cover rather than these constant dances to prove his fucking allegiance. If only his pride would allow him to be honest with everyone.

"Fine," he huffed, flopping to his bed with his arms crossed over his chest. "I'll fucking apologise to him."

Caius was too preoccupied with his own annoyance over his situation to see how Magnus barely held back a laugh at his petulance.

"He doesn't deserve it, though," said Caius. "I'm only doing it to shut you up."

Caius thought he had won some pride with his declaration, and so did Magnus. So would Basileus when he'd have the chance to read through the memory of the interaction later that night. In fact, the Creator would determine it was a perfect result. Caius felt better saying he didn't deserve an apology and Magnus felt better knowing Caius was only doing it for his sake. Basileus was fine with both as he neither wanted nor expected any kind of apology from Caius—a point Basileus had made clear to Magnus already. Caius being willing to put himself through public deference to demonstrate his respect for Magnus was a remarkable step forward for the younger coven leader.

"Have you heard enough reasons yet?" Magnus asked. "I've only touched on today, but there's plenty more I could add. This entire month has been a shit show."

Caius tutted, refusing to even look Magnus's way.

"Oh, right," said Magnus. "You actually do want to cover the entire month! I'm surprised—"

"What!" Caius spun in his seated position to face Magnus. "No, we don't need to cover the month." If Magnus went down that road, he'd wind himself up and it would be terrible for Caius's ability to walk until the next century.

Magnus bent at the waist until they were eye-to-eye. "Why didn't you say so, then?" When Caius tried to avoid his gaze, he clicked his fingers once and drew his attention back. "Why didn't you say so? I warn you, if you ignore me now, we really will cover the whole bloody month. It will take you the next one to recover."

"I'm not ignoring you, for fuck's sake," said Caius. "Yes, I've heard enough reasons, and I'm sure you could conjure a few more."

Had he been speaking to anyone else, and they only had his words and tone to go on, Caius would have been in troubled waters. He sounded bored, like this whole thing was a farce and entirely beneath him. Luckily for Caius's neck and Magnus's sanity, the empath could read his emotions as easily as he could hear his words, and they revealed a different truth.

"You're getting one chance to make your words match your feelings before I lose faith in my gift and start putting all my trust into my hearing instead."

Caius dropped his eyes to his hands in his lap. He soon received a sharp slap across the top of his head for his lack of reply and gasped in response. Every whack Magnus had given that evening had been solidly dealt, the bastard. He'd end up with a concussion at the rate they were going.

"Stop hitting me!"

"Stop ignoring me."

Caius huffed. With Magnus being such a prick, he should think himself lucky Caius was only a little lack lustre with his replies and not throwing him out the window.

"There's nothing wrong with my words," he said, running his fingers through his hair. He scrubbed his hand on his scalp to rub the thump away as he did so, as if Magnus wouldn't know what he was doing. "I'm not ignoring you at all. You aren't giving me time to process anything."

Magnus rolled his eyes and didn't hide his inward laughter. "I'll make a note of that one for the next time the kids around here aren't quick enough to provide you with an answer, shall I?"

He took Caius's hand by the wrist to prevent him from rubbing his head anymore, drawing attention to the childish act and pissing the younger coven leader off. It seemed to Caius as if Magnus would hold him to account on every little thing that evening and there was no bloody need for it!

"I'm running short on time, Caius…"

Good! Fuck off, then! Caius wasn't stupid enough to say it aloud, of course.

"I'd hate to still be having this conversation when we're in the Guard Hall…"

Something told Caius he'd hate it more. He pinched his eyes closed for a moment and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before giving in.

"There isn't anything wrong with my words," he said again, it a quieter, softer tone than before. "I'm not ignoring you. Not on purpose."

Magnus conceded that it likely wasn't purposeful. Although he clarified that unless Caius purposefully responded, he would continue to feel ignored, and Caius would continue to feel the aftereffects.

With a brief shudder, Caius continued. "I know you have enough reasons from today, Magnus. You don't need to drag anymore up."

"I thought I was conjuring them up?"

"Obviously you're not. You're listening to Basileus more than—" Caius cut himself off and turned away for a moment. Once he was sure he could continue without mentioning the Creator, he looked back at Magnus, ready to continue. "I—"

Magnus held his hand up for silence, then held his thumb and forefinger a hair's breadth apart.

"Boy, you are this close to getting a belting before I belt you."

"I was about to apologise, for fuck's sake."

Magnus considered him for a moment, testing his emotional output. The annoyance rolled off Caius in waves, but so did a great deal of anxiety. Without the apprehension, Magnus might have been more concerned. Knowing Caius as he did, Magnus knew how the younger master was portioning his annoyance: some for himself for getting into this situation, some out of frustration for being unable to control the outcome, and only a little towards Magnus.

For Caius, this all took too long. The silence went on for too long. His own breathing became deafening as he waited for the Juggernaut's verdict—he knew he was being 'assessed' emotionally, and the wait risked him losing his grip on his emotions. Caius was already aware of how little control he had over such things in Magnus's solo presence. If he lost any more, he would fall to…to…Odi's level!

"I'm sorry." His voice sounded shakier than he'd have liked, but it was the best he could do. "Can we just finish this?"

"I'm glad you've come to your senses," said Magnus.

He placed a hand on Caius's shoulder, withdrawing some of that annoyance and anxiety through his contact as he gave a comforting squeeze. The gesture earned him a brief smile from Caius, it abruptly turned into an embarrassed grimace when Magnus re-fixed his doubled-up belt into his right hand and used it to point at the free space on the wall opposite the foot of Caius and Dora's bed.

"Come on," he said. "You know the drill. I want you up that wall so we can get through this with no more fuss."

Caius hauled himself up. He could have continued arguing, but what was the point? Public apologies in the bloody Guard Hall would be far worse than a few licks of Magnus's belt. In fact, he knew it would be—he'd taken a walloping from Magnus enough times to know what he'd choose and if could buy back those apologies with extra beltings, he would have!

Besides, maybe it would help that unpleasant sensation deep inside him? Dora took the piss out of him often for not recognising the emotion as guilt, and Caius guessed that was what he was feeling. He wouldn't believe it made sense entirely considering Odi had landed himself in trouble and Freyr had wound him up in the training fields. Not to mention Magnus had been the one to overstep the mark countless times in public, which caused Caius to react in the first damn place. It didn't seem wise to bring it up again, considering all the complaints the Juggernaut had listed against him.

In a voice so quiet, almost too quiet for Magnus to detect as he himself moved into position, Caius said, "I am sorry, Magnus."

"What for?" Magnus asked.

"Everything," said Caius.

Magnus tutted. "Just stand against the wall, son," he replied with a stern edge to his voice.

Caius winced, knowing the emotional reading must have given him away. "Alright, not quite everything," he conceded, turning to the wall and placing his hands at shoulder height to brace himself. "Most of it. Upsetting Freyr, bringing you heat from the Creator, some of the shit with Odi…all that." He spread his feet shoulder width apart and stood two feet away from the wall, ready for whatever came. "I'm sorry about all that. I am."

Magnus put his hands on hips, belt still gripped firmly in his right fist, whilst he took another reading

"You are," he agreed with an inward sigh. "Thank you for saying so. That might make this easier on us both."

He couldn't see the smile on the younger man's face, but the quick change in his emotional output was a dead giveaway—Caius clearly thought he'd brought himself a virtual reprieve by sharing his simple confession. Sadly, the time had come for Magnus to disabuse him of that misapprehension.

With his left hand gripping the top of Caius's shoulder, Magnus rubbed his thumb on the back of his neck. It had been a risky move considering Caius's reaction to Magnus wiping away a single tear only a short time ago, but unthinkingly, Caius leaned into the gesture for a moment and relaxed, as Magnus hoped he would.

"Are you ready?" he asked, flexing his right hand around the belt he held. When Caius nodded, Magnus told him to expect a count of ten strikes and raised his swing arm.

Whistling the belt through the air, it landed heavily on Caius's lower back with a deafening thunder crack.

"Fuck!"

Caius roared in response and would have sprung away from the wall had Magnus not kept him in place with his hand on his shoulder, which he squeezed painfully tight whilst the man struggled to contain himself.

"What the fuck was that?"

"That was number one of ten," said Magnus, without missing a beat.

Still pinned in place, Caius looked back over his shoulder, incredulous at the blasé tone Magnus employed. "I can't take ten like that. Th—that's not reasonable!"

Magnus snorted. He sounded like a horse. "Ten is very reasonable, Caius. More reasonable than you deserve."

"Not like that, it's not." He should have known a ten strike sentence was too good to be anything other than a trick. "It's not even…you."

"Do you see anyone else here?"

It had been 12 long years since Magnus had first taken his belt to Caius. To date, there had yet to be an occasion that Caius would say was as comparatively awful. It had been so psychologically difficult to submit to the Juggernaut that first time, and Magnus had been so damn heavy handed. Caius had convinced himself that the guy had used his full strength. It was the only thing that made sense. After all, Magnus had beaten the britches from his backside that night.

Since then, Magnus hadn't laid it on too heavy, but now, having something else to compare it to, Caius decided his first dance with the Juggernaut, as awful as it had been, had been nothing like the Juggernaut's full vampiric strength. He was definitely experiencing that now.

Magnus raised his arm again and, despite Caius's protestations, he laid a second strike, just as heavy, just as perfectly delivered in the same spot.

Caius shot up to his tiptoes. Magnus still had him pinned in place by his shoulder, so his back arched to accommodate the rise and, from chest to knees, his body pressed into the wall. It had nowhere else to go to get away from the pain left behind by Magnus's belt. His hands broke position, not caring for the moment how childish he looked, both going straight to the blaze across the very base of his back.

Magnus knocked his hands away with his belt, snapping it against his fingers, none too lightly. "You know better than to try that, boy."

Yes, Caius knew better than to do something so puerile as to rub at the sting of punishment midway through, or to place hands in harm's way during the process. It had been that way in his human days and was that way in the coven still (he had no way of knowing 1690s human practices, of course, not that he cared what the food source got up to).

Grudgingly, Caius removed his hands, squeezing the burn one last time as he did so. "Are you going to do another eight like that?" he asked, his voice quivering despite his best efforts. "In the same place?"

"I thought you'd prefer to sit comfortably in the Guard Hall tonight."

"I'd prefer to skip the Guard Hall," Caius replied. "I'll skip the rest of this shit, too."

Magnus sighed. He went back to rubbing soothing circles with his thumb on Caius's neck and they helped settle him a little, but his following words left much to be desired. "Keep in mind I've allowed you to keep your dignity, Caius, but that will change if you keep whining."

Caius's mouth dropped open. No way. Absolutely not. He was not stripping for this on top of suffering the stripes. Without further word, he put his hands back on the wall and forced his feet shoulder width apart once more. He gritted his teeth, dropped his chin to his chest, and willed himself to get a grip before he shamed himself further.

"Do you want the rest in the same spot so you can sit comfortably in the Guard Hall, or should I spread them out?"

It wasn't much of a choice. Caius sensed his stomach flip merely considering the decision. His back burned already, and he'd only had two…another eight? But the alternative would be worse. Aro would zone in on his inability to sit through their meeting in a second and would be in his ear questioning him a second after that.

Trapped by his choices once more, Caius experienced the all too familiar emotional response—tears welled in his eyes. Facing Basileus for the last millennia had been so much easier than all of this.

"Are you ignoring me again?" Magnus asked. "Caius—"

"Huh?" Caius swiped his sleeve across his eyes. "No, no, I'm not! I—I'd…the same place. Please."

His voice sounded hoarser than he'd expected. It surprised Magnus, too, even more so when he rubbed his head onto the hand on his shoulder again.

"Are you ready?"

Caius nodded, not trusting himself to speak again.

Crack!

To his credit, after the third strike, Caius didn't break free or curse or shout or even make a murmur, in fact. He did, however, slam his fist into the wall, shattering the plaster, destabilising the stonework, and bursting the skin at his knuckles, sending blood spurting in every direction!

Beneath his breath, Magnus muttered 'for fuck's sake', threw his belt on the bed, and flashed out of the room, leaving the bedchamber door swinging on the hinge. He soon returned with a cold, damp washcloth and a bandage. He found Caius where he'd left him, still against the wall with his good hand in position bracing his weight, the other, already swelling and dripping blood, there too, though placed limply and only for effect, incapable of any use and unable to support him.

"Show me."

Caius gulped audibly and shook his head. He wiped the sleeve of his bloodied hand across his eyes to quell the tears that had dared shed before replying. "I'm fine," he said. "Let's get this over with."

Magnus didn't wait for Caius to comply. He simply made him do so. Grabbing his right forearm—that of the afflicted appendage—he spun the younger coven master around and brought him to the bed where Magnus took a seat next to the washcloth and bandage he'd brought back from the bathroom. Much to Caius's annoyance, he immediately started poking and prodding.

Caius snatched his hand back.

"Yes, my knuckles are fucking broken, for fuck's sake," he muttered. "And my wrist is sprained, and there are fractures in my hand along here and here," he said, pointing out the damage. "My ego is pretty busted up, too—I'm so pathetic." He hadn't entirely intended to say the latter out loud, but at least it was only Magnus who'd witnessed his depressing self-assessment.

"They aren't sitting straight, son," said Magnus. "Will you do it, or shall I?"

Caius looked at his hand. Not that he needed to. He felt the knuckle above his middle finger misaligned—his whole finger was out of alignment with it. He ran his good hand through his hair before using it to roughly jerk the bones in his right hand back into the correct placement. Caius winced a little, and an irritated curse or two escaped his lips, but that was his total complaint before Magnus took over to strap it up to keep everything in place whilst the bones knitted back together and the bleeding subsided.

As he cleaned the blood from Caius's hand, quietly, Magnus said, "You've still got seven to go, and you're getting them."

"When did I refuse? Are you hearing things or something?"

"Watch your attitude."

Frowning, Caius turned away. He really was beyond pathetic. Roughing up his own broken hand had been fine, but Magnus turning a stern tone on him made him want to cry.

"Caius?" said Magnus, breaking through the man's thoughts. "Did you hear me?"

Caius looked back to the Juggernaut. His hand was already bandaged, and Magnus stood watching him, waiting expectantly.

"No…what? Huh?"

Magnus carded both hands through his hair and shook it out, laughing in disbelief. "I don't know where your head is today. The sooner this is finished, the better for us both." He retrieved his belt from the bed once more and gestured to the foot of the bed—the foot board was a suitable height for Caius to bend over without being too high or too low to cause discomfort.

Caius caught on and he wasn't happy. "I'm fine with the wall."

"Don't argue with me," said Magnus, sounding tired of it all. "You can get over the bed or you can get over my knee."

"What the fuck! Magnus—"

"Those are the only choices you have left, as you've just punched a hole in the wall and broken your hand."

Caius stood resolute, refusing to bend over his bed like an errant youth.

"You can't support yourself against the wall, Caius," Magnus pointed out, willing the younger man to see reason. "I'm trying to preserve your pride, but you're making this difficult; you're being difficult."

"You're being too much." Caius took a step back when Magnus reached out to pull him into position. "You've lost your head or something, Magnus. Even Basileus hasn't struck me this hard in…I can't even remember how long? And that would have been for serious shit, not…this stuff."

"You could always go to him if that's what you would prefer, Caius."

Outwardly, Magnus remained impassive, but internally, he had twisted into a ball of stress. If Caius elected to go to Basileus, Magnus would have to relent—he was banking on Caius choosing to stay.

"Are you sending me away?" Caius started nodding along to himself. Now it made sense. "So that's your game, is it? Right. Got it."

Magnus narrowed his eyes, trying to work out what Caius was getting at.

"You're belting me with the full vampiric force of a fucking Juggernaut, so I choose the Creator and set you free." Caius laughed—he sounded slightly hysterical. "If you want rid of me, just fucking say so."

For a moment, Magnus was too stunned to speak, but he soon recovered. "Have you lost your damn mind?"

"Have I?" Caius was incredulous! "You're the one who lost his fucking mind, Magnus." He was so certain he was right that he ploughed on despite Magnus's attempts to silence him with an explanation. "I'll never choose him. Never. If you can't be bothered with me anymore, you'll have to find your balls and say so."

"Enough!" said Magnus. "Before you make this any worse, shut your mouth and listen. I'm not Basileus, I'm not getting rid of you, and this is nothing like my full vampiric strength, Caius."

"What?" Where the hell was Caius supposed to start with that? "What do you mean? What?"

"What are you whatting?"

"The last bit mainly!" He was asking what to all of Magnus's claims, but that the guy had more strength in reserves had taken over all other concerns. Would he use those reserves at some point? That was too awful to contemplate. "It must be, Magnus. I thought it was the first time but…fuck."

"You thought wrong."

"I know that now!" said Caius. "Because this…this, it must be?"

"You thought wrong again," Magnus replied with a wry smile. "I am glad you wouldn't choose Basileus over me, though. It would kill me, and you know it."

This is what Caius needed—a way to gain some control.

"In that case, back off and stop pushing me into it. You need to stop laying it on so thick, you need to stop making demands of me around the coven, and you need to…"

Upon sensing the entire room's atmosphere shift, Caius let his words fade into the background. He had no choice, as his throat constricted seeing Magnus's eyebrows had knitted together, and his eyes were suddenly black as coal.

"Is that what you think?" Magnus asked, his voice low and dark. "Do you have any more orders for me?"

"I—um—"

Magnus flashed in front of Caius before he had the chance to move away again and dragged him in close by the front of his, by now, very crumpled shirt.

"I am reacting to your behaviour. I am doing what needs to be done to bring us through this, Caius," Magnus explained. "I'm being patient with you, but you've stalled for long enough now, son. I gave you two choices—pick one and get in position."

When Caius still refused to move, the last of Magnus's patience disappeared. "I'm going to decide for you in a minute, boy, and I think you can guess which way I'm leaning."

Caius gulped. He heard his venomous blood rushing through his ears, reminiscent of his heartbeat thumping in his ears when he'd been in trouble with his human father as a child—it had been almost 3000 years, but he had a sudden flash memory of the sensation, and it was quite disturbing. He was just about to turn and bend over his own fucking bed like a delinquent when Magnus made everything significantly worse.

"You can forget about sitting pretty in the Guard Hall tonight. That ship has sailed, too," said the Juggernaut. "You'll take my strikes where they land now."

"But—"

"You'll take them where they land," he said again, his tone brooked no argument. "I'm about three seconds away from doubling what you have coming."

That couldn't happen. Caius couldn't cope with it. "I just want it done with, Magnus."

"Then get over that bloody bed, Caius!"

Caius flinched and did exactly that. It wasn't quite a shout, but it wasn't far off, especially considering Magnus rarely shouted at all. It was definitely an order either way.

Relieved, Magnus folded his belt and was about to strike…but stopped. He leaned over Caius and collected his broken hand by his forearm and pinned it to his back.

"So you can't do it any more damage," he said when Caius looked at him for an explanation. "Are you ready?"

Caius shook his head, burying his face in the crook of his left arm instead. He wouldn't say so aloud, but he found some solace in his new position. Being able to hide his face was far preferable, and the soft bedding carried his wife's scent, which was familiar and soothing (even if relations weren't great between them currently). Fortunately, the footboard was low enough for his feet to be planted firmly on the floor, which helped ground him, too. Importantly, Magnus was still close by—he felt that shouldn't matter to him, he almost wished it didn't matter at all, but it did.

It was much better than the wall, although he'd rather die than admit it.

Crack!

Fuck, it burned a blaze right across the centre of his backside.

He pushed the pain down deep and groaned pitifully in response. It was infinitely preferable to taking another strike in the same place as the first three and despite the threat about not sitting pretty in the Guard Hall, Caius reckoned with some angling in his chair, he'd be fine. If he took another couple like that, he might not notice those stripes at all.

Crack!

As if Magnus had heard his thoughts and wished to scupper his plans, he levied strike number five harder and lower than the last and Caius would damn sure be sitting on that one.

Caius sucked in a breath as he tossed his head whilst keeping it firmly wedged in the crook of his free arm. He tried to focus on the scents and sounds in his bedchamber, but it was futile. Despite labelling everything he could, all his mind would focus on was the physical assault he experienced. What in all that is holy was that? He was done for. No angling in the world would save him now. Fucked. He was fucked! Caius would feel that stripe every time he sat down for a few days no matter how much blood he supped, he was sure of it.

"Keep your feet on the floor."

Caius snapped his knees straight, forcing his feet to fix against the wooden boards—he hadn't realised they'd moved from such a position in the first place, although it was hardly surprising?

"And stop pulling on this arm," said Magnus, flexing his grip around the right forearm pinned to Caius's back. "You'll only damage it further."

Nodding was the best Caius could do to reply. If he spoke, he feared he'd humiliate himself by sobbing or some shit.

Crack!

There hadn't been time to prepare.

A guttural growl ripped from his core before he could prevent it.

"Oi!"

Three more strikes quickly followed the one across the back of his thighs that had elicited such a powerful reaction in the younger coven master, complete with renewed stomping and an attempt to free his broken hand. They were mercifully lighter, but Caius couldn't appreciate it.

"Feet on the floor and stop pulling on this arm."

Magnus gave him a mere moment to comply, but that was all he was getting. As Caius seemed more interested in growling his frustrations than paying any attention to his words, Magnus knew he'd have to get his attention another way and gave him another three cuts across the backside.

They added to the already considerable flame and Caius knew he'd never make it through the Guard Hall meeting after getting those. He already had a tough night ahead, but Magnus had just made it impossible for him, the arsehole!

Caius tried to get away from Magnus entirely at that point, but he couldn't get far. The man still held his broken hand against his back, and he used his right leg to brace around Caius's left one. The younger master rolled one way, then the other, scooted down the footboard as far as he could, and he even tried to slide from the bed entirely. He got nowhere; Magnus held him fast.

"Just fucking stop!"

Caius may have been aiming for commanding, but he sounded like a whiny child to Magnus's ear.

"Just do as you're bloody told, then!" he said in reply, sounding far more authoritative.

Sniffing and hating that he even needed to, Caius gave up his resistance for the billionth time that evening. Magnus felt the tension in the younger man's arm he held slacken and watched as again his feet found the floor, fixing themselves back in position. He shifted his hips until he was back where he should be, too. Watching him for a minute, Magnus saw the shudder in every third breath Caius took. He was trying so hard to pretend he wasn't crying, to hide his emotions—why did he do that in front of an empath who could feel his feelings? It truly baffled Magnus.

All the thrashing about had caused Caius's shirt to slip down his back, exposing the lashes across his lower back when he was against the wall. The angry purple-red stripes glowed against his porcelain skin like beacons in the snow.

Magnus had intended to be heavy-handed—there was method to his madness with this—but maybe he had laid it on a little thick?

He said Caius was getting ten and there had easily been double that already if he counted all the ones since they entered the bedchamber, so maybe they were done? If Caius demonstrated some contrition, they could be done.

He put it to the man.

Nothing.

So, you're back to ignoring me?

A little louder, Magnus put it to him again, giving him a shake by the arm he still had a firm grasp of.

Nothing.

"Caius?" Magnus called. "Did you hear me?"

"For fuck's sake, what now?"

Another firm smack of the belt checked his aggression—Caius yelped in surprise but thought better of voicing the thoughts in his head.

"I asked if we needed to continue. I have my answer, not to worry."

Caius turned awkwardly, supporting himself on his good arm. "We don't need to continue, we don't!" Were he with anyone else, he would bite his tongue off before begging for a reprieve.

"Your attitude says otherwise," said Magnus. "Considering you've only paid me any attention when I've been swinging at you this evening, I'd say we need to see this through."

Caius insisted that wasn't the case, that his mind had been wandering a little, sure, but only because he'd been thinking about what Magnus wanted him to think about, mostly—if Caius was ignoring Magnus at all, the Juggernaut could look to himself for the reason. Even Caius would admit that was a foolish thing to throw out in an effort to deflect blame. It proved pointless, too, as it failed abysmally.

"I'd shut my mouth if I were you," said Magnus.

He adjusted Caius, lifting him by his hips and dumping him further over the footboard of the bed so his feet just graced the floor. He grabbed the waist of his britches and pulled them uncomfortably tight—Caius was sure the unyielding fabric would tear at any moment.

"Any more trouble and you're losing these. Do we understand each other?"

Caius's sharp intake of breath and the sudden statue like demeanour were all the answer Magnus required.

"Sorry—"

"It's my fault—you said so yourself."

Caius dropped his head back into the crook of his left arm.

"You're probably right, Caius. If I'd dealt with you myself when I got back from France after Freyr had finished with you, we might have avoided these recent tantrums. I won't make this mistake again; don't you worry about that."

Caius damn near choked on his own venom when he gasped at that little nugget! After Freyr had finished with him? He wondered whether he'd have been better off being adopted by werewolves than by these fucking people.

Magnus slapped a hand on Caius's back twice as he coughed up the venom he'd breathed in.

"All of this fuss over four more stripes, honestly! You bloody earned them!"

Magnus wasn't really speaking to Caius, he was just speaking his frustrations—Caius knew that, but by the Gods it stung to hear. He doubted it was possible to feel like more of a prat in that moment. It was easy for Magnus to think he was making a fuss, though, as he'd never been his own victim, had he? The Juggernaut should sit down with Afton or Alex some time to hear a few home truths about how heavy-handed he could be when the mood took him. He'd suggest a heart to heart with Odi, too, but Caius doubted the kid had ever suffered the man's wrath to this degree. There's no way he'd use so much force on his baby boy.

Crack!

For a moment, Caius made very little sound. He merely sucked at the surrounding air greedily, as though it would save him somehow. All too soon, the primal need to release what he'd taken in consumed him and his traitorous body wished to betray him, humiliating him further by compelling him to expel that unneeded air through a pitiful scream.

"Let it out," said Magnus.

Caius shook his head, burying his face into the blankets on his bed. His broken hand lay uselessly to his right, his left hand fisted his hair. It was taking all his concentration to hold his tongue, to keep from roaring the roof off the castle.

The belt sliced so hard and deep that it went through him or might as well have done as far as Caius was concerned. Reality suddenly hit why Magnus had repositioned him now. As if being belted with the full vampiric force of the Juggernaut—because it must be, fuck what Magnus said, it must be!—wasn't enough, Magnus made sure it would be as impactful as possible.

Caius knew he couldn't sit through the Guard Hall meeting without a miracle. Now he was wondering how he'd make it through Aro's Christmas address in 11 months' time? He'd surely still feel just as uncomfortable by then, only he'd have run out of excuses for why he was trying to hover above every chair the castle possessed.

"Breathe through it, Caius." Magnus placed a hand on his back and started rubbing circles gently. "Theres only you and me here."

Despite his eyes being shut tight, Caius still tried to roll them. If Magnus thought he was glad the guy was there right then he was a fucking moron. How could his voice even be so calm and steady? It seemed mismatched to the fury he'd just unleashed. The utter bastard. And breathe through it? He only wanted Caius to breathe so he could shame him further—Caius Volturi is not an idiot. He knew Magnus's game, and he was not playing it.

Crack!

Caius had been completely unprepared. For one, Magnus was still speaking calmly to him, trying to coax him into breathing. He was still rubbing his back, still being nice! Then he randomly sliced a stripe of fire into his wretched hide—how did those things fit together? It was unconscionable! People had the nerve to call Caius an evil cunt but he'd never do something like this. He was honest about his bastardry.

Still refusing to take a breath in, Caius found himself unable to keep the air entirely inside his lungs any longer. It was the surprise attack, he told himself, when he all but roared into the blankets beneath him. Caius pressed his face into the bed as hard as he could to quell the sound. It worked mostly.

"We're not moving on until I know you're breathing."

That sounded just fine to Caius. He'd happily never move on. He wouldn't be tricked into breathing and making a fool of himself, so they could stay there for the rest of their immortality. No way, no how…

"What are you trying to achieve?"

Caius, caught off guard by Magnus's soft quizzical tone, almost answered, taking in a half breath to do so, causing an immediate shaky sob. He shoved his face back into the bedding to hide his shame, only to realise how damp the sheets already were…had he really been crying that much? Running the back of his hand over his forehead, he hoped to find he was dripping with sweat. It would be preferable, but sadly not.

"Oi!" Magnus slapped his belt across Caius's thigh. "I said—"

"Ahh!"

Caius slammed his knee into the bed frame, purely to distract himself from the frustration and the sting—he couldn't even claim pain from that strike as it hadn't been harsh. He'd done more damage to himself than Magnus had. Caius had certainly done some damage to the bed if the crunch of wood was anything to go by. Dora would be seriously pissed when she set eyes on it later.

He soon found himself hauled to his feet and face-to-face with the man who asked again what he was trying to achieve, though the soft quizzical tone was gone. Magnus now spoke through gritted teeth.

Caius didn't wish to be accused of ignoring him again, but he couldn't answer or even look Magnus in the eye. "I—I—" The words just wouldn't form. Then the quick shallow breath required to even try to answer betrayed him and a shaky sob heaved from his chest. "Fuck's sake!"

He tried to put some distance between them, but Magnus caught him by the shoulder before he could retreat and held him fast. His position made all the worse when the Juggernaut clamped a hand on either side of Caius's face, forcing him to look his way.

"What are you trying to achieve, Caius?"

It must have been the fourth time Magnus had asked the question. He used his thumbs to wipe the tears from the younger man's cheeks, gripping his head a little tighter when the action saw him struggle for freedom. He pushed his good hand into Magnus's chest to maintain some distance, but exhaustion prevented him from doing much more.

"I know you're embarrassed about all this. I already feel what you're feeling," Magnus reminded him. "There's no point hiding things from me, Caius, and there's no one else here. You're making it harder on yourself by dragging it out."

Caius snorted at that nugget and dragged his sleeve across his eyes. "Y-you're the one d-dragging it out."

Magnus sighed softly. He was, in a way, yes. The two of them hadn't done this a great many times (though Caius would say far too often already). Whether with the guards, or Odi or the coven kids, or, indeed, Caius, Magnus worked the same way. He didn't stick too rigidly to a count, instead focusing on the emotional shift of those in his charge and allowing that to guide him with how far he should go, how long a punishment should last. He only ever used a count of strikes when he was trying to snap them into line so they could move forward. For Magnus, it wasn't even proper punishment, more like correction…a 'start paying attention to me, or else' kind of thing.

This event sat awkwardly between his two styles somehow. Magnus hadn't consciously played things out in such a way with Caius this time, but now he had the chance to think about it, he could see that's what he'd done. In a way, it was rather fitting as Caius had been ignoring his counsel for months, and for the last month in particular. He would certainly pay better attention after this was all over. Magnus was sure of it.

The unusual heavy-handedness and pauses between strikes had played havoc with Caius's emotional output from the empath's reading of him. In fact, Caius would claim the whole damn thing had been bloody torturous. Magnus was sure of that, too.

"It needn't have taken quite this long," said Magnus. "You've spent an hour pratting around"—he silenced Caius's rebuttal with a simple raised eyebrow—"arguing with me, punching walls, breaking your bloody hand, and your bed, still arguing with me…"

Seeing realisation dawn on Caius's face, Magnus let his list drift away. He finally released the man's face, too. Caius wondered if he'd need to borrow some of Dora's make up for the Guard Hall meet up to hide the marks he no doubt wore on his face.

"You're going to quit the games, quit the pretence, and we're going to finish this."

Caius felt his lip twitch momentarily, an unconscious desire to snarl at feeling patronised, but he restrained himself from making the mistake and bit his lip instead to keep it in place before causing himself more grief.

If Magnus noticed, he made no comment. He was busy testing out the bed to make sure it was still stable enough for the task at hand. Caius had damaged the wood of the foot board—he'd slammed his knee into it hard enough to make a whacking great hole in the damn thing—but from the pressure Magnus applied, it was still structurally sound.

"Go on, then," said Magnus, moving aside to give Caius back his place. "It will still hold you up."

"Lucky me." He moaned pitifully but reclaimed his position over the bed, scooping an arm full of bedding into his chest for the comfort it might offer.

"Are you ready?"

"No," he answered emphatically, but the belt responded anyway.

Crack!

For a moment, there was no reaction, and Magnus was ready to haul him up again. He'd just told him to quit the pretence, after all. Trying to hide emotion from an empath was as good as lying in the Juggernaut's opinion. But then it came. Caius heaved in an almighty breath, sucking at the air around him and breathing back out like a dragon possessed. He breathed so loudly that he might as well have screamed blue murder. At least he wasn't pretending anymore—the tears flowed freely now, and so did his words.

"Fucking hell, you absolute mother fuc—"

"Be careful," said Magnus sternly, cutting him off before he had the chance to cause either of them more unnecessary stress.

Caius continued his ranted name calling but did so sensibly inside his head where it couldn't hurt him. To distract himself from the burn, he grabbed his broken hand with his good one, squeezing the damaged bones until he felt the skin splitting again and blood seeping through the bandage.

A second later, and he was sure he saw stars—Magnus clocked him across the back of the head before ripping his broken hand away and pinning it to his back once more.

"What the hell are you playing at?" The blood from his hand immediately began soaking into his shirt, the pale purple blood contrasting sharply against the bright white. "You wouldn't bleed like this if you didn't drink so much alcohol."

Caius thought it was quite ironic because all he could think about was downing an entire bottle of whiskey in that moment!

Crack!

There was no warning when the last stroke fell. It was the hardest of the lot and it sliced through his core. Caius stamped his feet on the floor in a bid to distract himself, but it was pointless—only the fire of Hades would distract him from that.

Behind him, he heard Magnus talking calmly to him. He didn't know what the words were, but the tone was nice. If the guy wanted a response, he'd have to wait until he could think more clearly.

It took a minute or two for Caius to realise why he couldn't make out what Magnus was saying, and when he did—oh hell—Caius could have happily crawled into a hole and died! Caius had drowned him out with his own yelling from that last strike…what was he playing at? Ending the pretence was one thing, making a total fool of himself and acting like a coven brat was quite another.

Magnus remained patience personified at his side whilst Caius got himself under control, which, for Caius, took an embarrassingly long time. A whole minute, at least.

Caius jumped out of his skin when Magnus's belt landed at his side on the bed. He hadn't been expecting to find the implement discarded so close by. At least it indicated they were finished. He tried to stand up, only to have Magnus push him back into position.

"Not so fast," he said. "I'll let you up, but if you smash up this room, you're going straight back down. Do you hear me?"

Caius nodded into the bedsheets.

"Say so then."

"Y—yes, sir."

Slowly, Magnus released the wrist of Caius's broken hand that he'd pinned to his back and took a step away.

After taking a few steadying breaths, Caius peeled himself from the bed, dragging the bedsheets with him for reasons unknown to even himself. It was fortuitous, though, as it gave him something substantial to wipe his face with.

Last midsummer, after the inbetweeners had laced the bloodwine in the Guard Hall with dungeon blood, Caius had been in Magnus's chambers when he'd punished Odi for his involvement. It had been awkward as hell for Caius, but he'd learnt a few things that night. Magnus had hugged Odi after he'd spanked him. It wasn't something he'd ever offered Caius, claiming Caius would never have accepted it. Magnus wasn't wrong, Caius wouldn't have. But he had banked the information because it seemed a far preferable ending to slinking away in shame and turmoil. Under the right circumstance, of course, not just at any old time. He hadn't been sure what might make him want to sink so low as to need a hug from the guy, but standing in his bedchamber with his tattered britches swinging in the wind and barely able to catch his breath, he had his answer.

How would he go about asking for it, though? Caius had no clue, no inkling, even. Odi hadn't had to ask. It was a well-rehearsed tradition from what Caius had witnessed, no doubt beginning when such things were more natural with Odi as a young boy and simply continued as he grew older. Maybe he was being ridiculous to think it could be the same for him?

Despite all the bitching and moaning Caius did about Magnus's gift, the way it revealed his feelings when it had no business even knowing them, he was glad it was a gift he possessed then. It meant Caius didn't have to ask for anything at all. While he was still focused on the floor, consumed by confusion and self-doubt, Magnus embraced him tightly.

"What are you doing?" asked Caius, a definite croak to his voice. "You don't have to—"

"It feels like you need it, Caius."

With a silent nod, Caius rested his head on Magnus's chest and soaked up his love.

They didn't stay that way for long, not even as long as Caius would have liked to because his damn pride reared its ugly head and forced him to end it too soon. It was enough, though. Enough to feel a little better about things, a little more in control of his emotions, a little more regulated.

When he pulled away, Caius said it was because he needed to get changed, which wasn't a lie. He looked a mess. His white shirt now held purplish-red patches of his own blood from his broken hand, and his britches were tattered in the back from the onslaught of Magnus's belt. He disappeared into his walk-in closet, half hoping Magnus would be gone before he re-emerged, and half hoping otherwise.

Magnus sat on the bed. He wasn't going anywhere until Caius came out, preferably with his emotions levelled out, and soon.

Caius had left the door open for light as he'd not taken a candle with him, which gave Magnus access to all the gasps, grunts and verbal complaints the younger master made as he changed his clothes. Magnus passed no comment, understanding it would be an uncomfortable task. A good five minutes passed, and Caius was still to return, when those gasps and grunts became a roar of frustration followed by a series of thuds as Caius began flinging things across his closet.

Magnus sighed. He already leant forward with his elbows resting on his knees. The latest tantrum from his twenty-eight-year-old charge saw him stoop lower, dropping his head into his hands.

"What did I tell you about smashing up this room?"

"I'm not in that fucking room."

A quiet chuckle preceded Magnus's request for Caius to join him.

"I'm not coming out if you're starting again."

"Me?" Magnus asked, surprised. He discounted getting into a tit-for-tat argument over who indeed was 'starting again', though. "I'll fetch you if you like, but fair warning, you really won't enjoy it."

To make sure Caius really understood, Magnus reached back across the expansive bed and grabbed his belt. All it took was a good jangle of the buckle for a sudden gasp and a quiet 'fuck!' to be heard from the closet. A second later, Caius emerged, still wearing his creased, bloodied shirt, though he'd changed his britches, which were unfastened and held closed at the waist with his good hand.

"Aha," said Magnus, assessing the situation. "You're struggling, I take it?"

Caius narrowed his eyes for a moment before pinching them closed and sighing to himself. As Magnus had made clear already, lying to an empath was utterly pointless, so there was nothing to be gained by denying it.

"I can fetch Dora for you?"

"No, don't do that."

Since Dora had found out about him swiping the dungeon blood in France and going to Henri's, they'd done little but argue. He was trying to not to antagonise her too much (and failing often). If Dora saw his current state, she was more likely to laugh at him than help him. Caius had no desire to give the woman something else to use against him in their next row.

If Caius didn't want Dora's help, then Magnus knew he'd have to do it. He called Caius to him and made quick work of jerking the younger master's britches into position and fastening the ties he hadn't been able to manage with his bandaged hand.

"Are you alright?"

"Not really." What a stupid question. Caius glared at the man for a moment before looking away. He didn't even mean it, but his pride demanded it of him. "I assume you're satisfied, at least?"

"Satisfied?" Magnus repeated, spitting the word. "Do you really think this was to satisfy me?"

He checked his watch and couldn't believe the time. 10 o'clock and he hadn't seen Odi home yet, despite leaving the hall four hours before. Ridiculous! He could spare thirty minutes more.

"Sit," he said, jerking his head to the spot beside him. "I know it will hurt. Don't argue, just do it." Magnus hoped the pain would focus Caius's mind during their chat.

As it was, Caius didn't have the energy left to argue anyway, though he struggled to take a seat, gasping on contact with the soft bed. His eyes bulged, simultaneously filling with tears that immediately spilled down his cheeks, dripping onto his bloodied shirt. How on earth he'd cope with the hard chairs in the Guard Hall was anyone's guess? He leaned as much weight as he could onto his good hand, but it hardly helped at all. The whimpers came thick and fast as he tried in vain to settle himself. No way could he show up to the Guard Hall in this state. He'd never live it down.

"I know I was rough with you, but you really have been begging for that for a while and you know it." Considering how many times Caius had blanked him that evening, Magnus wasn't taking any chances now. "Show me you're listening, Caius."

"I am listening, for fuck's sake!"

"And You had better lose the attitude, now."

Ducking his head a little, the younger master offered an embarrassed and awkward smile.

"Basileus is done with your attitude and your behaviour. Done," said Magnus. "He's done with mine, too."

"Yours?" Caius could understand the Creator being pissed off with him since new year, but he couldn't see how Magnus had done anything wrong at all.

Magnus bobbed his head. "I've insisted he leave you to me, and I've failed to rein you in when he would have if I hadn't been in his way."

Oh, how Caius detested being referred to so childishly! And Magnus wasn't even done.

"Think about all the things you've done recently, all the poor choices you've made, all the things Basileus would have torn you up for if I weren't around…" Magnus drifted off, watching Caius do the mental maths. "The count wouldn't be that high, son," he said, putting an arm around his shoulders. "You wouldn't have kept this shit going if you'd been up against him, would you?"

Caius refused to respond aloud. What could he say? Truthfully, no, he wouldn't have. He respected Basileus to a degree, but not like he did Magnus, and he paid attention to a round of fucks from the Creator, but again, not like he did from Magnus. So why the hell had he ridden rough-shod over every request and scrap of advice from the man for the last month at least? Caius knew it had been longer than that, in truth.

Magnus had an idea why, even if Caius did not. "You've been testing me, pushing for a reaction, seeing where the lines are, and I've failed you," he said simply. "Exactly the same as Odi has been—" Magnus paused, expecting some resistance from Caius for being compared to Odi in such a way. None came, not even emotionally. "We're all going to pay for it now, Caius. I've got to be tougher on you and Odi than I'd like to be, and you're both going to suffer it."

To Caius, it sounded very much like he and Odi would pay for it. Magnus had the easier deal in his mind.

"Basileus has been testing me, too, and I've failed him as well." Magnus bit his lip awkwardly—Caius wouldn't like this. "He's lost faith in my 'ability to lead you into good sense' as you've 'shown no willingness to follow' me."

Caius's mouth dropped open. He stood from the bed and began pacing. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" It was a pointless question—he knew exactly what it meant.

"It means he's taking over again as and when he feels it is necessary," Magnus explained. "I believe that will be any time you show any hostility in the coven from now on."

"What the actual fuck?" Caius ran his good hand through his hair and tugged at the roots. "How fucking dare he?"

Magnus warned him to watch his mouth, but Caius wasn't listening. With a fist clenched in his bandaged hand, he forgot it was already broken and punched straight through the wooden corner upright of his four-post bed.

The burst of pain that ripped through Caius's already broken appendage shot straight through Magnus's empathetic gift, too. He forced a hand into his stomach to quell the momentary nausea—Caius had done similarly, though he was trying to stop the thumping pain in his hand through the same action.

Magnus recovered quickly and drew Caius's hand out. The bleeding had begun again in earnest, already seeping through the bandages.

"That was bloody stupid," Magnus chided him quietly, slowly unwinding the bandage.

Caius glanced down and noticed his knuckles were misaligned for a second time that night. He looked away. "Just do it."

"How can I refuse when you ask so politely?"

Raising an eyebrow, Magnus sighed to himself and had him sit back down before he began manipulating the digits of Caius's right hand back into position. Magnus helped him out of his shirt. Vampiric blood ruined their clothes if they didn't wash it out immediately, so now the shirt was only fit for rags. Torn into strips, it would do for wrapping Caius's hand. Again.

Caius barely made a murmur. He almost welcomed the pain—anything to distract him from the burn in his backside. He could barely keep himself seated and Magnus drawing attention to this with repeats of ''pull yourself together', and 'will you sit bloody still?' really didn't help.

"The Creator has a whole fucked up family of his own to meddle with. Why is he fucking about with ours?"

Was that the first time he'd referred to their weird little set-up as a family? Caius could have kicked himself. He was grateful Magnus didn't comment on it, though the guy appeared desperate to.

"We are part of his wider family, Caius," Magnus explained—that was how Basileus had explained it to him. "You are especially."

"Hardly!" Caius really hated that Demi-God twat at times. "He can give me away and take me back at will, and I have no agency at all. I was never his in the first fucking place—he made that clear from the start."

"You have agency," Magnus said softly. "You're currently wasting it on behaving like an uncontrolled, immature prat."

Before Caius had the chance to offer a rebuttal, even though he didn't appear to have one, Magnus highlighted he was also wasting his own agency by hesitating over pulling Caius and Odi up on their recklessness. He'd been far too concerned about them liking him than respecting him.

"I respect you, Magnus."

"Aye, I know. In your own way," said Magnus.

He held a hand up to silence Caius before he launched into a defence that his 'own way' was a perfectly adequate way, thank you very much. Magnus had no desire for yet another argument with the man.

"Your major complaint against me, Caius, is that I'm not respecting your coven position when we're around other people."

Caius didn't deny it—it was the only actual concern he had, although it was an overwhelming one.

"I don't know how many times I have to explain," Magnus went on. "I only react to you."

"Yes, I know," said Caius, sounding bored—he'd heard it before.

"I don't think you do." Magnus grabbed his chin and forced him to look his way as he spoke. "You act like a prat, you give out the attitude, you're just plain nasty, and I will react to that. You goad me directly and I will react to that. You show no respect for my position in this coven despite it being the same as yours and little respect for my position in this family, despite it being a position you gave me."

"I do—"

"Not outside of these chambers, you don't."

"Ye—well—I—"

Caius halted his babbling when he realised he was unable to fabricate a lie quickly enough for even himself to believe. At least Magnus released the pinch in his chin—small mercies.

"And look what happened out there with Odi because Phil and Turk were here."

No way—Caius wouldn't back down now. "When you started shoving me around, you mean?"

"No," said Magnus, suddenly struggling to maintain his composure. "You're proving my point, though. You really don't see what I'm saying, do you? I respected your position in front of the guards, Caius, and yet again you showed no respect for mine. You could have backed down without losing face—I made it so. You kept coming back for more and more until I had to react."

Again, Caius began stuttering, so convinced to begin with that Magnus was incorrect and he had done nothing of the sort. Yet, without a single sentence—or even a word—uttered fully, he fell flat, realising it was true. What a complete prick he'd been.

"You pushed me into it, Caius." A rush of annoyance overtook Magnus, and he had to take to his feet. "We'd only spoken about that exact fucking thing moments before they arrived!"

Caius kept one eye on the Juggernaut, who seemed to be talking to himself, the other twitched towards the belt coiled on his bed. Fuck, he hoped to the Gods whatever Magnus was saying to himself it wasn't leading to another round of that bloody thing.

"I was wound up."

"What?" Magnus snapped, unable to hear the whispered words.

Caius squared his shoulders. "I was wound up," he said, clearing his throat. "With Odi…and you, I guess."

Christ, Caius knew that sounded woeful. His quiet, regretful tone added to the effect, too, but it helped settle Magnus a little who returned to stand before him.

Magnus puffed the air from his cheeks and shook his head slightly. "Stop pushing me into having a word with you when other coven members are around if you don't like it."

That was easier said than done in Caius's opinion as being a bit of a cunt was his stock in trade.

"Or carry on pushing me to into giving you a round of fucks in public," said Magnus with a shrug. "But I'm done hearing your complaints about it if you do. And so you're forewarned, Basileus is, too." Then he rolled his eyes heavenwards and said almost to himself, "We've already got some work to do if we want to convince the Creator to back off."

For a while, neither of them spoke again. Caius appeared to be deep in thought and, from his emotional output, he was both frustrated and angry. Magnus wasn't entirely certain what to make of that. Was it due to not getting his way or because Magnus hadn't backed down? Both were equally likely reasons, in empath's mind.

Slowly, Caius's emotions levelled out. The anger spike subsided, the frustration ebbed away, and he calmed himself completely. Magnus toyed with asking him how he'd managed that, but then he checked his watch.

"I really need to get home," he said. "Lie down for a while. Relax."

"What's the point?" Caius asked, though he was already shifting into the middle of the bed, twisting onto his stomach. "It's not like I'll sleep."

"You can still rest, and I think you need to get your head straight ready for the Guard Hall. Get that hand cleaned up before you come tonight."

Caius tried to move his fingers and soon thought better of it. "My hand will be fine when I've had some blood," he said, hoping to illicit some sympathy.

"Aye, probably." Magnus collected his belt from the bed and slung it over his shoulder, his head bobbing in agreement as he walked to the door. "Shame you won't be getting any for a while."

It was worth a try.