Magnus’ heartbeat rings frantically in his ears. All he can see is Alec on the ground, an arrow in his chest.
God . If Magnus had been a second too late—
He can’t think about that right now.
He doesn’t think at all as he gathers the magic into his palms and hurls it at Jace, adrenaline pumping through him.
Jace hits the wall and Magnus doesn’t even look to see if it worked. He skids to a stop by Alec’s side, gravel digging into his knees and palms.
He brings his hand up without thinking about it, desperate to heal, and then freezes.
The adrenaline seeps out of him and he feels suddenly cold. Scarily empty.
The buzz of magic under his skin is gone. It’s been there all his life. Even when he’d had no one else, he’d had his magic. And now he can’t feel it. It’s gone. Magnus almost sobs at the realization.
But then, Alec coughs and looks up at him with half lidded eyes.
“Mom said you’d make a dramatic entrance.”
Magnus smiles, despite himself, even as he has to blink back tears.
“Wise woman,” he replies, willing his voice not to shake.
Alec’s breathing stutters and Magnus bites his lip. The arrow is still in his chest. Magnus can see the blood. He doesn’t know if the arrow punctured a lung or not and he’s scared to find out.
He doesn’t notice that Jace has scrambled over to them until he speaks.
“Magnus, please, you gotta fix him.”
Magnus almost doesn’t choke back his sob this time.
He’d tried to save them. Save Alexander .
And now all he can do is watch helplessly as Alec lies bleeding on the floor.
“I can’t,” he grits out, “my magic, it’s gone.”
It’s possibly the hardest thing he’s ever had to say.
