He nodded, as if answering the breathless thoughts running around in my head. “I. Can. Talk.”
“You haven’t. Not to me.”
“Not. To. Anyone.” He cleared the sand from his throat. “Only you.”
“Only me?” I released a strained breath, having a hard time even imagining what would make a person with a voice refuse to talk. Then I remembered the blood in that room…
“Only. You.”
“This is your first time talking to someone in…how long, Cian?” My voice was soft.
“It’s. Been. A. While.”
Again, I didn’t want to make a big deal of this—of him talking—because he seemed almost skittish. On the inside, though, I was freaking out.
He was talking to me.Trulytalking to me.
I took a couple steps toward him. “I shouldn’t have run from you—”
He moved out of the chair so fast that I lost my breath. He caught me by the arms before I could move away from him. He looked down at me, his forehead dotted with sweat, his eyes frantic.
“You. Promised.”
“Youscared me.”
His face seemed set, but in a burst of movement, he moved it away from me. He closed his eyes. “I. Would. Never. Hurt. You.”
“Promise?”
He nodded, then maybe remembering he was talking to me, turned his face back. His eyes were solid on mine. “I swear it on my parents.”
His parents.No one had mentioned them. I wondered once or twice who they were, but I never brought it up. I wasn’t going to. Cian would tell me in his own time.
What we were doing—communicating with words—was huge enough.
“I won’t run again,” I whispered. “I swear it on…my mom.”
I had a feeling whatever happened in that ballroom might have happened to his parents, so it felt right including my mom in our pact.
The mood was suddenly darker, more tense, and I wanted to lighten it. I lifted a finger. “A caveat. I won’t run away from you unless you’re chasing me.”
His brow furrowed, and I had to bite my lip from laughing. “That was supposed to be a joke, Cian.”
His forehead relaxed, and so did the set of his face. I’d get him to smile if it was the last thing I ever did.
His eyes searched mine. “You’ll tell me everythin’ I want to know now.”
“Yes.”
“What are you thinkin’?” The question almost flew out of his mouth, like it had been on the tip of his tongue for centuries.
It was so…curious, nosy almost, and I had to stop myself from laughing again. I didn’t want him to think I was laughingathim. It just made me so happy that he trusted me enough to share his voice with me.
“How I think you should smile—and I’ll get you to.” I twisted my wedding band around my finger. I was curious about him too, but a little anxious to ask. “Will you tell me everything I want to know now too?”
“Aye.”
Confirmed. He most definitely had an Irish accent.
