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Summary
That power is pouring off of Magnus in waves, his shoulders heaving with every labored breath, eyes still flashing golden. His face a mask of fury. Magnus is always so much more than a man, but it’s times like this when Alec can see the demon lurking in his depths, but he isn’t afraid. No, Magnus is resplendent in his wrath, commanding and sublime, and Alec suddenly can’t breathe for how much he wants.
Magnus needs to let off a little steam after that clusterfuck of a party at Lorenzo's, and Alec is more than happy to help.