I stared at him. “What?”
“It’s farther down this wing, around the corner,” he said.
“You’ve known I was a librarian from the very beginning, and you’re mentioning this now?”
Cillian shrugged. “I figured you’d found it already. You’ve spent plenty of time exploring, and I’m aware of your innate curiosity.”
My cheeks heated again. The fact no one had scolded or reprimanded me for yesterday affected me more than I realized. I kept bracing myself for a comment, for censure, for them to be livid with me for breaking the rules, for trying to escape.
Instead, Cillian and even Amelia were…kinder? I couldn’t for the life of me understand why.
“If I’d known you had a library, you would’ve had to pry me away from there daily,” I responded, a blip of excitement coursing through my veins. While his collection couldn’t possibly compare to Peregrine City’s library, the chance to be around a large selection of books again, to smell the slightly sweet almond and leather pervasive in those spaces, was one I wouldn’t pass up.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “I can take you to the library tomorrow.”
“You’re assuming I won’t have the time to find it today,” I challenged. “You’ve told me where it is, so I’m not likely to let that stone go unturned.”
Cillian’s grin widened. “And you’re assuming I’m not going to keep you busy the entire day. Yesterday was quite disruptive for my business, and you’ve got a lot of fires to douse—and apologies to security staff to draft.” Even as he said the words, they were light, like a tease not a censure, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this aspect of him had been hiding there all along.
“Fair,” I responded, hiding behind another sip of coffee.
Cillian took a bite of toast, the delicate move almost comical with the way he clutched it in his claws. Now that my sheer hatred of him had been stripped away, I couldn’t help but acknowledge how my attention strayed to him far too often. How his appearance was arresting, and not just due to how formidable he was. His golden gaze landed on me, and he winked.
I incinerated.
Playfulness wasn’t ever something I would’ve expected from Cillian Ashmore, to the point I wasn’t sure if I’d hallucinated it. My whole body vibrated with tension from his presence, from the liquid-smooth gesture from a man who should loathe me.And instead, he seemed to have not only forgiven me for my grand escape, but we’d also made some sort of breakthrough.
“You going to eat your breakfast?” Cillian asked, arching a brow. His gaze was knowing, as if he understood the devastating effect of a simple wink. “We will need to get going soon. The first meeting for the day will come fast.”
“Please tell me Chadwick won’t be there,” I muttered as I crunched down on a piece of bacon. Thinking about how the man who I’d been in plenty of meetings with had flipped on a dime sent a shudder through me.
“He’s not allowed to step foot in the Spires again,” Cillian rumbled. “He should’ve thought twice before double-crossing me. His life’s about to become hell.”
“Don’t tell me you have some underground operation to dispose of your enemies,” I joked, but the joke dried on my tongue because of the potential truth there. With his level of money and resources, that was likely a truth.
Cillian didn’t respond, but his lips twitched in amusement. Right. If Amelia, Charles, and Theo were innocent staff, I’d eat my hat. Each of them were deadly in their own way—even Charles, who masqueraded as innocent and friendly. I hadn’t missed the control in his movements, the honed grace there.
“So, I’m guessing Thorin did more than just piss in your oatmeal,” I commented. “Or steal a business from under you—whatever wealthy guys like you do to form grudges.”
“The lows he’s capable of have yet to be discovered,” Cillian said, his expression darkening. The mention of Thorin summoned storm clouds. “Trust me when I say he’s not someone you ever want to get involved with.”
I pursed my lips and leaned back in my seat. “Oh, I’m supposed to trust you now?”
“Clearly,” he responded, cracking a grin. His fangs poked out, his golden eyes wicked, and the breath rushed from my lungs.
The wildest thing, though, was that I did trust him. I’d grown up being beaten up, having to defend myself from assholes left and right. And the whole time, I’d wanted someone to step in, to stop them.
Yesterday, Cillian had done just that.
“Maybe,” I responded, meeting his gaze.
His eyes widened in surprise, but then his lips curled into a smirk. “Dangerous thing to do.”
I sipped at my coffee, not looking away from him. “I’m not as scared of danger as you think.”
“I’m well aware, Beau,” he said, the low rumble of his voice coursing right through me. The way he said my name, drew out the word, was pure danger. “Why do you think I made you my personal assistant? You’d be wasted in the Pits.”
“Then why was my father getting sent to the Pits?” I asked. My stomach soured at the reminder of why I was here, of the bone of contention between us in the first place. How quickly his actions had caused me to forget.
