He stared at the retreating men, arms crossed, not budging an inch or saying a word, as if waiting until he was sure they’d vanished. His focus wasn’t on me, thank fuck. I sucked in a long slow breath and pushed myself to stand. My body felt like it’d been tossed in a washing machine and spat out. My legs barely kept me upright, my shins throbbing.
Cillian’s gaze swept my way, pinning me in place. “And you.”
I gulped hard. Was I sorry? I still wasn’t sure. I’d been so desperate for freedom that it’d pushed me to action, and I’d seized the opportunity. However, I could admit one truth. “Thank you.”
Because if he hadn’t intervened, the situation would’ve been a lot worse.
He stared at me for a moment, those full lips pursed. The sunlight brought out aspects of him the shadows couldn’t—the richness of those golden eyes, the subtle weariness there as well. His presence alone was a forbidding, intense thing, but after the way he’d come to my defense, I experienced something new.
Safety.
He’d come in and saved me when he didn’t have to. I’d run away, and he could’ve cast me off to the wolves. Instead, he’d rushed to my defense.
Granted, he still might eviscerate me, but in that moment, I stole the seconds of calm while I had them.
“Let’s go,” he said, tilting his head toward the steps. “Time to head back.”
A mere hour ago, all I’d been able to think about was escape, but when he said those words, further relief rushed through me. Because I’d been unprepared for the level of danger I was in from the rest of the world now I was associated with Cillain Ashmore. Maybe the precautions to keep me in the Spires hadn’t just been about my captivity.
Maybe it had been to keep me safe.
The newfound understanding rippled through me, rocking me to my core.
I trailed up the steps after him, forcing my pace to quicken even though my body protested. He didn’t look back, just expected me to follow, but I didn’t want to remain in this alley in case Thorin and the others returned—I didn’t trust that they’d be obedient. The moment I stepped inside, the air that had stifled me before my escape caressed like a reassurance. Shame flushed through me. Would I have to face Charles and Theo? Amelia? And they’d know I tried to make a run for it.
Or maybe he was leading me inside to negotiate sending me to the Pits.
We walked the halls I’d run through mere moments before, as if nothing had happened. My breathing calmed, even though the crash of adrenaline brought aches and pains, and my legs trembled like they were about to fall off. How I’d run as fast and far as I had was mind-blowing, considering I’d never been at the pinnacle of athleticism.
Cillian, of course, looked rumpled, but he breathed evenly and walked steadily, like he hadn’t just chased me through the entire casino. Bastard.
Sweat cooled on my skin like paste, and I was dying to scrub it off. However, I was about to face whatever fate lay in store for me. Not only had I disobeyed his direct order to stay out of the West Wing, but I’d tried to escape.
We reached the elevator, and he swiped his card and pressed his print on the pad before he pushed the button for the upper floors. The elevatorwhooshedup. I leaned against the wall, hoping it’d keep me upright. Fuck. So much had happened since this morning that my mind spun. It felt like a lifetime ago.
The silence stretched between us, reminding me of the first time I’d gotten into this elevator—except back then Amelia had been there as well. I had no idea then how much my life would change. Cillian leaned on the opposite side of the elevator, his arms crossed and his gaze veering toward me every few minutes.
“What happened?” he asked at last, breaking through the quiet.
I swallowed hard. “I thought…well, I didn’t think after you discovered me there I’d still be standing. So I ran. When I made it outside, they found me.”
“Thorin doesn’t just appear,” Cillian said, a hint of accusation lurking in his voice.
“I know I’m not making a case as being trustworthy right now, but that’s the truth. I’d never seen the man before in my life.”
“Hmm.” The rumble sent a vibration through the air, and I shivered. For as terrifying as Cillian had been, he hadn’t scared me in the same way Thorin had.
I tipped my head back and looked at the top of the elevator. No matter what case I pled, I wouldn’t appear anything but guilty. Not after I’d broken into the West Wing and tried to escape the Spires.
The elevator let out ading, and the doors opened.
The hallways were familiar, ones I’d roamed plenty of times at this point. We weren’t far from the kitchen and dining hall. I followed Cillian, not saying a word. What could I even offer? When we reached the open door to the dining hall, he stopped and strode in. No one else was in there to witness my shame, thankfully.
Cillian chose one of the nearest tables and sat. I followed suit, the hushed quiet settling over me. The second my ass hit the seat, I almost sobbed in relief. After what I’d put my body through today, I’d be feeling the soreness for a while. My muscles still slightly trembled.
“Why?” he asked. His golden gaze bored into me, as though he’d know if I tried to lie.
I swallowed hard. The truth dwelled deep within me, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to unleash it. However, this was the chance to explain myself, for better or for worse. “I’m not free.”
