But it’s so, so familiar. Achingly. Reassuringly. Killian’s pine-clean smell. The careful movements of his nimble hands. The concentration in his eyes as the entirety of his attention goes to making my life even a touch easier.
Ican’t.
“Killian,” I say, shattering the silence.
He doesn’t react poorly when I use his full name. Maybe I’m the only one struggling not to slip into the past. IntoLeeand little smiles and a love I thought could never waver.
His voice is quiet, deep as the sea in his eyes. “What is it?”
I gesture to our surroundings. To my surprise quarters, issued by someone aboveEgith’s head. “Are you responsible for this?”
Killian looks up from his work. His eyes meet mine, unblinking and defiant in a way that is so familiar. The look that has always said, “I’m going to take care of you whether you like it or not.”
I don’t hate it. I never hated it. There were days that Ineededit. Someone to take me into their arms and promise me safety. Someone strong enough that I could trust that they could keep that promise.
My blood thrums at his dominance, at the way he’s daring me to challenge him. Driven by instinct, my thighs tighten. He’s just…
Fuck, he’s so gorgeous. All his lies, and that truth still remains. Stubborn. Devastating. Damned addicting. He stares up at me and arousal heats my blood instantly. Memories of my legs around him, of his hands on my skin, of the solidity of his abs flash through my mind like lightning strikes.
And that look in his eyes. Unflinching. Angry, almost, but not at me. At the men I fought in the ring, for bruising my body. Atthe war, for taking my childhood from me. At the touch of the wintery air, for daring to chill my skin.
It wordlessly tells me he’s definitely responsible for my private quarters. Of course he is.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. The hand that’s been lingering tenderly on my arm smooths over my skin, but I push him away and stand.
I need distance. I need to be able to process things without the incessant thought swirling around my head that if I just leaned forward, I could taste him again.
Taking a stabilizing breath, I turn to look at him. “You painted a target on my back by separating me from my pack,” I say coldly. “Do you understand what you’ve done? The position you’ve put me in?”
His jaw tightens. “I’m trying to keep you safe, Meryn. You have no idea what you’re up against with these people.”
Anger spikes through me again, outweighing my confusing affection for him. “What are you even?—”
“Ido. I know them,” he snaps. Then he makes a considerable effort to gentle his voice and unfurl his fist. “My father is in direct command of them, and someday, I will be as well. The Bonded are not your friends, not even the ones in your pack. For them, everyone here is disposable, or a bargaining chip. Your life is at risk with them.”
I scoff. “That’s rich, coming from you. Knowing who your father is and how he treats other people’s lives.”
Killian’s upper lip twitches with frustration. He stands, passion blazing in his gaze. “When I’m king,everythingwill change. I swear it. And if you would give me a chance, I’d tell you more about it.”
I stare in silence. Apparently unable to endure it, he approaches me. I tense, but he doesn’t try to touch me. His gazeis even more intimate than a touch, though, and I want to curl up. Maybe in his arms, maybe just to die.
“I wanted to tell you. Everything, Meryn. I want…” he swallows. There’s something barely restrained in the way he’s holding his body. Taut. Hurting. “I want to be with you.”
I grit my teeth. “Like how the nobles are with the Bonded during the Trials?” I say, and the tension in him heightens, muscles bunching. Maybe it’s cruel, but a part of me relishes wringing that reaction out of him. “You want to fuck me and then discard me when I’ve grown tiresome?” I say just to make it hurt.
Killian snaps. The strain in him wasn’t anger. It wasn’t pain. It wasneed. I can see it. It’s in the way he pushes me back against the wall, his hand closing around my wrist like he’s washing out to sea in a storm and I’m the anchor that can save him.
His blue eyes are lit with that same fire I’ve always seen in them when something hurts me, like he’s going to burn the world down for my sake, until all that’s left is him and me, standing in the ashes.
“Don’tevertalk about yourself that way, Meryn,” he says. The growl of his voice thrums in my body where we’re pressed together. His hand slides down the wall beside me, the other still grasped firm but gentle around my wrist. And I realize that the burning danger in his eyesisdirected at me.
Not for resisting him but for belittling my place in his life.
“You are more precious to me than you could ever imagine,” he tells me in a quieter tone. And his thumb rubs up and down on my wrist. I resist the responding shiver that prickles over my skin, but I have to curl my fingers into a fist so I won’t touch him.
I can’t deny the pull to do so. But I also can’t let go. So I stand, silent, as he stares at me.
He’s imploring. Clearly in pain. His eyes dart between mine, searching for a hint, a hope.
