The guy holding me made anungnoise as he let me go. Fiona’s knife was stained with fresh blood as she held it in her hands, her teeth bared. She blinked at me, then clasped my arm and pulled me back, taking a knife from her belt and handing it to me.
It was the oddest thing to bond over, but in that moment, I felt like I was a part of the family.
An arrow sliced through the air and hit another guy in the chest. But the rest—the rest the Beast was destroying with a sword.
The last guy standing had a gun and was shooting backward as he ran. It didn’t take long for Cian to get close enough to snatch him by the back of his shirt. He turned the gun toward Cian and pulled the trigger.
My entire body froze, preparing for the blast, but nothing happened. He was out of bullets.
The moment the truth made it to the last man standing’s eyes—he was about to die—all the blood drained from his face, and he held his hands up in trembling surrender.
There was no mercy in Cian’s eyes. He stabbed the sword through the man’s heart and let him fall to the ground with it.
It didn’t even seem like Cian was breathing. He was completely still, like death itself. Then he twitched, and I could imagine his heart starting to pump again, the first taste of air bittersweet.
He turned around slowly and met my eyes. He made a pained noise in his throat, swayed on his feet, and fell to the ground.
Chapter12
Maeve
Between Keenan, Fiona, Henry—who had walked up right after Cian had collapsed—and me, we got Cian to his office and sat him down in a chair.
It looked like he’d been drugged. His eyes were lowered, but his pupils were dilated, drowning out the gray. Blood was splattered on his skin, especially his forehead, and on his clothes. Fiona got a fire going, and the flames danced over his face.
It was June, too warm outside for a fire, but the castle kept a chill, and I was feeling it. I stood off to the side, turning the ring on my finger. I didn’t realize it wasn’t the one I usually wore. It was the wedding ring Cian had given me. A gold band that was in the shape of a V, a diamond at its point. It wasn’t gaudy, but it wasn’t simple either.
It fit me, and I loved the way it felt on my finger. I knew it was there, but it was subtle—not a heavy burden to carry around. Just a reminder of the connection we now shared.
The diamond caught the soft light of the fire and shimmered. So pretty.
Henry came back with Beatrice a minute or two later. She was holding what looked like a shower caddy but was filled with medical supplies. Keenen took it from her and set it down on a table next to the chair Cian sat in.
“All right, lad.” He motioned for Cian to sit up some. “Let’s see what’s goin’ on.”
Cian had lost the jacket to his suit, and it was the first time I’d noticed a blossom of red blood on his shoulder. It had soaked through the white fabric of his button-down shirt. After I noticed it, I could smell it in the air. Like the heat from the fire was making it stronger. Cian didn’t move, though. His eyes turned up to meet Keenan’s, and something passed between them.
Keenan looked between Cian and me. He sighed. “All right, lad,” he whispered. “Maeve knows where to find me if you need me.” He looked at me. “That’d be at the bar.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted them to stay or go. I wasn’t sure what to say, how to break the ice between us, but maybe if we were alone…
Keenan nodded toward the door, wanting Fiona to move. She was hesitant to leave us alone. She stopped before she was fully out the room, and the black bow headband she wore fell to the side of her face. It was chiffon and looked like something from the ’80s. It matched her dress. As usual, she wore combat boots underneath the chiffon and tulle. She went to fix the headpiece, but Keenan reached out and fixed it for her.
For a moment, I forgot about my unease and fixated on what had just happened between Keenan and Fiona. She had jerked like she’d been electrocuted when Keenan had touched her, but only because other eyes were in the room, it seemed like.
She rushed out a second later. Keenan followed behind, closing the doors.
I sighed out a heavy breath, deciding not to plan my next steps. I was just going to go with what felt natural, so maybe some of the awkwardness between us would thaw.
Those two gray storms—Cian’s eyes—followed me around the room. Watched me as I went to the table with whiskey and poured him a glass. I held it out and waited with bated breath to see if he’d take it.
Our eyes held for a second, long enough for me to get caught up in his, before he took the glass from me.
I kept the relief tucked inside as I said, “I need to make sure it looks okay.” I nodded toward his shoulder.
He didn’t give me a sign of permission, but I went in anyway, keeping my eyes away from his. It was hard to breathe when he looked at me with his entire focus. It was like I was the only other person in existence, and it was the first time he was interacting with me. But he was going to try to force me to look at him, because after I undid his buttons, he refused to sit up.
“Sit up some,” I whispered, keeping my eyes averted. “Your shirt needs to come off.”
