Okay, so anger wasn’t the reaction Ciaran had been expecting. “Are you mad?”
Ciaran wasn’t sure which part of what he’d said had warranted such a reaction. All of it, probably. He’d kept this from him for too long, and apparently asking Sawyer if he was mad wasn’t the right thing, either, because he just got madder.
“What? Did you just ask me if I was mad?” Sawyer said, and oh yes, he was mad. “Jesus, Ciaran. Your consortium is under threat from the fucking kraken, and you left them alone? To spend time with me? What the fuck?”
Ciaran blinked, shocked, confused. “W-what? Of course I did. You’re my priority here.” Ciaran legit couldnotunderstand Sawyer’s anger. “How is that a bad thing? I’mtheirleader andyourmate. But I can’t be everything to everyone all the fucking time, Sawyer. I came here to be with you, to make this happen!”
He winced. “No, of course.... That’s not what I meant. I meant you shouldn’t have to choose. We shouldn’t have left your consortium. We should have stayed in the Cove, together. You’re their leader, and they need you. I would never have a problem with that. I would stay by your side and help you; I wouldnevermake you choose. Ever.” He jumped up to his feet and held his hand out. “Come on, get up. We need to go back.”
Ciaran was still confused, but he took Sawyer’s hand and stood up. “I trust them,” he began. “They’re capable?—”
Sawyer’s sharp eyes met his. “Ciaran, sweetheart. You are their leader, and they need you. We have the rest of our lives to fuck like animals—” He froze. “No offense.”
Ciaran snorted at the animal comment but something else stuck out even more. “Sweetheart?”
Sawyer ignored that and began stuffing things into his duffel bag. “And what do you mean, the kraken? You’re not joking, are you?” He stopped, looked Ciaran in the eye, and then went backto shoving things into his bag. “Of course you’re not joking. Of course the fucking kraken is real. I mean, why wouldn’t it be?”
He mumbled to himself some more, and Ciaran could feel his unease from across the room. Then Sawyer stopped, and his unease became cold fear. His hands stopped moving, and he was pale when he looked over at Ciaran again.
“You....” He sucked back a breath, then couldn’t quite seem to catch it again. The fear coming off him was cold and clawing. “Ciaran?—”
Ciaran was across the room in two long strides, and he put his arms around Sawyer, holding him tight, holding him up. “Sawyer, what is it?”
“You. You’re in danger? This threat is coming for you? You’re the leader. If a gigantic threat is coming, they’ll come for you first....” He was trembling in Ciaran’s arms, and the dread and fear was radiating out of him. “Christ, Ciaran.”
“Hey,” Ciaran said, voice as calm as he could manage. He pulled back, and with his hand on Sawyer’s cheek, he looked into his ice-struck eyes. “We’ll be okay. We don’t know with any certainty that it’s happening. We don’t know if she will even turn up. We just don’t know. It could be weeks or months away. Years, even.”
Sawyer’s nostrils flared, his jaw set with determination, and he let out a slow breath. “We’re going home. You’re going to tell me everything—all the history, all the lore, all the rumours—and we’re going to make a fucking plan. All of us. Okay?”
Ciaran couldn’t help but smile. Sawyer’s concern, his fear, his love—it was all Ciaran had ever dreamed of finding. He’d had no idea just how good it could be. Gods, how Ciaran loved him.
He took Sawyer’s hand and pressed it over his sternum so he could feel how his hearts synced for him, then he pressed a soft kiss to Sawyer’s lips. “Okay.”
Chapter
Twenty-One
SAWYER
They didn’t talk muchwhile they waited for the boat to turn up. They were busy packing, cleaning up, and airing out the hut; the smell of sex was strong, even to Sawyer, and he could now appreciate why the consortium had mentioned it a few times.
The silence between them wasn’t strained at all. It was just that they had an important conversation coming up and shit to do first. Sawyer doubted they’d ever have a strained conversation again, given this new bond between them.
It was difficult for Sawyer to put into words. What he felt for Ciaran could hardly be described.
It was as if the marrow in his bones had been replaced with the need for Ciaran, his brain rewired, his blood, his whole entire core now inexplicably linked with him.
He was his compass, his direction, his purpose.
Oh, Sawyer was still himself. He was probably more himself now than he’d ever been. He was still his own person, had his own free will, his own mind. But Ciaran was a part of him nonetheless. Like he was the earth and the moon, and Ciaran was the sun. Or maybe Sawyer was the sun, and Ciaran was every planet in the solar system. They were intrinsically joined—separate but moving parts of the whole. Ciaran was the sum of Sawyer’s parts, the?—
“Sawyer,” Ciaran said to get his attention.
Sawyer startled, surprised to see Tobin’s boat coming up the river.
“You okay?” Ciaran asked, fixing Sawyer’s collar against the cold.
“Yeah, I was just thinking,” Sawyer murmured. “About us. About what we are to each other.” He felt stupid for admitting that.
