With that, Theo turned on his heel and headed out of Cillian’s room.
Quiet descended between us, the enormity of everything that had happened starting to settle in. Cillian managed to loop his arm around me, and I rested my cheek to his chest, just to hear the steadythump,thump,thumpof his heart. Savoring the fact that he was here. He was alive.
“I should’ve told you why I didn’t trust your father,” Cillian murmured. “I regret not speaking up.”
“I wouldn’t have let you,” I said. “I didn’t want to hear it.”
His body was warm beneath mine, and even weak and depleted as he was, I felt safe here. Protected. I gripped onto his shirt. I’d protect him too, in whatever way I could. If anyone tried to come between us again, I’d tear their heart out. The exhaustion swept over me, and my eyes felt heavier by the minute. Cillian’s breaths were even, as if he careened toward sleep, and I didn’t want to keep him up, not after everything he’d gone through today as well. Yet I had one more question.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “About the curse. About all of it.”
“You had to love me of your own volition. If those feelings weren’t wholly true, but were just because you felt guilty or didn’t want me to die, the curse would never have been lifted anyway,” Cillian said, the rumble in his chest lulling me closer to sleep.
“Curses are stupid,” I muttered, letting my eyes fall shut.
“Luckily you’re smart enough to thwart them,” Cillian responded. “Rest, pet. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
That knowledge was all I needed.
I closed my eyes and careened toward oblivion.
Chapter 31
When I cracked my eyes open, I felt like I’d been bludgeoned by a billy club over and over again.
A heavy weight surrounded me, the scent of musk and plum and brimstone, and I recognized it as Cillian. I let myself bask for a moment there in the warmth, the comfort of having him draped around me.
Then the events I’d tried to shut out slammed back in.
Of my father’s betrayal.
His murder.
Cillian almost dying.
My throat tightened, and Cillian squeezed me a little harder.
“You’re awake,” he said, letting go of me and pushing upright in the bed.
I followed suit, even though my muscles were belligerent, and the scent of tomato and spice caught my attention. Two bowls filled with soup and plates of bread and butter lay on the nightstand, courtesy of Charles and Amelia.
“How long have we been out?” I asked, my stomach rumbling.
“Food first, then we can discuss further,” Cillian said, gesturing for a bowl. I passed him one with the bread, then balanced my own in my lap. It was lukewarm at this point, but I didn’t care as I took the first sip. The rich tomato broth offset that gnawing hunger at once. Damn, I was starving. I gulped down the soup as fast as humanly possible, then started tearing into the bread. I barely had a second to savor it with how quickly I consumed the food. Cillian did the same, the silence between us broken up by slurps and chewing.
When I finally polished it off, I placed the empty bowl on the nightstand and then sat back in the bed again. I heaved a huge, relieved sigh.
“Let’s head to the bathroom next,” he said as he leaned past me to place his bowl down too. “I’m sure after the day you had, you could use a shower.”
I grimaced. Based on the stiff spot on my cheeks, blood had probably dried there, and I hadn’t gotten a chance to clean it off. My father’s blood. My stomach rolled. “Please.”
I pushed up out of bed and headed into Cillian’s bathroom first to take a piss, my bladder aching. The room was luxurious, a place I’d spent far too much time in over the last month. He stepped in a few moments later, his presence looming and steady, as I tugged off my shirt, my pants and briefs, my socks, letting them fall to the ground. Part of me wanted to burn them.
Cillian had somehow stripped down even faster, and he bent over the tub, completely naked. If I hadn’t been exhausted and heartsick, I’d be turned on, as his physique held a constant allure for me, a strength and sturdiness there that I craved. Yet I let him turn the shower on and usher me into it. He pulled the curtain to shut us in afterward.
The hot water cascaded down on me, offering absolution, and I basked in the steam that rose around me as it washed my bodyof the day, even if it couldn’t erase the memories. Cillian stepped behind me, and he wrapped his arms around my body, holding me tight.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured in my ear, the sound almost drowned out by the roar of the water. “About your father.”
