I sniffled. Not in those exact words, but it was close enough, and it had torn me to shreds.
Cillian’s jaw locked. “Excuse me, Niamh.”
“Wait.” I reached for him. “Where are you going?”
His back was to me as he walked down the row and out into the main aisle, his fists clenched. “To have a little chat with my brother.”
CHAPTER 30
Wolfe
“You’re especially surly today.” I jumped as Margaret appeared in a painting on the wall where I stood on the upper level, right next to the balcony.
I wished she would stop doing that.
“It’s a party!” She shimmied her shoulders. “It’s time to celebrate!”
I didn’t feel like celebrating anything, not after what I’d just said to Niamh. I’d known it needed to be done, that this thing between us was dangerous, and I’d also known the only way to push Niamh away was to hurt her. Waking up with her head of lovely red hair on my chest had awakened something in me, had cracked my chest wide open, and I couldn’t allow it. Not when so much was at stake.
But fuck, seeing those tears in her eyes had broken my heart. I just had to remind myself that I was doing the right thing by pushing her away.
“Well, you’re no fun,” Margaret said. “I’m going to join the drunk royal guards.” She pointed downstairs to where the guards were now dancing.
Fucking useless. If Harriet were here, she’d hand them their asses, but I assumed she had tonight off.
I scanned the room for Cillian, realizing he’d disappeared into the crowd right when Margaret had scared me. I’d looked away for one fucking second, and somehow he was gone.
It looked like the guards weren’t the only useless ones. My mother caught my eye from below and gave a wave that I returned, and Jerome stood next to her, nodding at me. I looked away, unable to meet his eye.
Cillian reappeared in the crowd and immediately caught my gaze, glaring at me, fists clenched. Something had rattled him, but I didn’t know what.
Nevan crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder, but Cillian shrugged him away, marching straight toward the stairs and toward me.
I didn’t move, waiting for him to come and say whatever he had to say. Maybe he’d discovered something about me and Niamh. I swallowed thickly, knowing that must have been it. He’d somehow realized my feelings for his future queen.
It was a relief, actually. I could finally get the punishment I deserved.
Cillian appeared at the top of the stairs, chest heaving as he pointed toward the back of the space. “Back there. Now.”
He turned and walked down an aisle, disappearing from my sight between the bookshelves. I let loose a breath and followed him. I’d accept whatever punishment he deemed fit for this betrayal.
I met him in the back, looking at him coolly as he shoved up the sleeves of his shirt.
“Cillian? Wolfe?” Nevan appeared, adjusting the spectacles on his nose. “What’s going on?”
Pain splintered my jaw, my neck cracking to the side, and it took a moment to realize my brother had just punched me.
“Fucking finally.” I spit out a wad of blood.
“Cillian!” Nevan yelled.
I straightened as blood trickled out of my mouth. The pain was oddly cathartic, masking everything else I was feeling.
Cillian shook his hand. “Ow. Good godwitches that hurt. Fuck. Is your jaw made of stone?”
“Push through the pain,” I said, and Cillian’s gaze snapped to me, full of fire.
“You bastard.” He lunged and tackled me, and even though he was smaller, the force of him barreling into me knocked us both to the ground.
