We need to find Dylan. Dylan is our priority. Not Douglas fucking Sawyer.
Sorry to tell ya, Ciar, but the leader of our consortium being mated to a human is a fucking priority too. Timing is not good, agreed. But we need to deal with both.
There was a lot he could, and probably should, say about that, but Ciaran decided that shutting up and pouting was all he was good for.
Fray grinned at him.Good.I’ll see you on the surface. Come up when you’re ready.
Ciaran didn’t think he’d ever be ready.
Ready to face his brothers. Ready to face Sawyer.
Or face the truth.
He didn’t want to face any of it.
But the longer he sat there, hiding in his rock wall, the more he thought about how Kellan was probably tending to Sawyer’s hand, touching him, albeit in a doctorly way, but still....
And maybe Fray was with him, watching, supervising.
Maybe they’d be having a conversation.... Hell, Tobin had talked more to Sawyer than Ciaran had, and that bothered him too.
A lot.
The longer he sat there, the more it bothered him.
He needed to speak to him. He needed to get a freaking hold of himself, sort himself out, and man up.
If “manning” up was the right term.
It wasn’t, but when it came to Sawyer, that’s all Ciaran could ever be.
A man.
Human.
Ciaran hated everything about this “mating bond.” He had never asked for it. He had never wanted it. He’d never wanteda partner of any kind. He had his brothers, and he loved the solitude of being eternally single.
Yet the pull toward the surface was something he couldn’t ignore.
The pull toward Sawyer.
How was it even possible to be mates with someone he couldn’t even stand to be around?
Ciaran was so confused. And ashamed.
He owed Fray an apology.
So, dragging his sorry arse out of the water, he went to do exactly that. He was surprised it had gotten so late; the light was fading fast behind the cover of clouds.
He came up through Fray’s place, found himself some appropriate clothes—a white T-shirt, grey trackpants, and some Birks—and he followed the sound of voices.
Coming from the police station.
Fuck.
Just outside the door, Ciaran took a deep breath, and faking a calmness he didn’t feel, he opened it.
Sawyer was at his desk, with Kellan seated across from him. Sawyer had his hand palm upward, and there was white gauze taped across it. Fray was there, too, standing against the bars of the jail cell, and Hendrix was sitting on the cot inside the cell. As soon as he saw Ciaran, he grinned. He gave a pointed glance toward Sawyer and then chuckled, and Ciaran had no doubt that he’d been told.
