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Ciaran’s head whips toward Marius. "Someone following us, huh? And what the fuck are you two doing here?"
"Football practice," Rafe says.
"At this hour?"
Rafe rolls his eyes. "We’re not all sneaking off for midnight swims and romantic roof adventures."
Heat climbs into my face.
Good Light. Of course they know.
"Shut up," Ciaran barks.
"Oh, he’s blushing." Rafe cocks his head, studying me with obvious amusement. “Interesting.”
“Rafe. For fuck’s sake.”
“What? I’m just gathering evidence.”
“Wait.” The amusement disappears from Marius’s face so quickly it makes my stomach drop. “I think I heard something.”
Everything goes still, and we all turn toward the pitch-black corridor behind us.
Are you sure? I want to ask.
But before I can, Ciaran releases me and turns toward the darkness. “Stay with them.”
“Ciaran, wait—”
Of course he doesn’t. One second, he’s standing beside me. The next, he’s sprinting down the corridor, disappearing around the nearest corner before I can stop him.
Silence crashes over all of us, the seconds dragging by while the corridor remains stubbornly silent. No shouting. No footsteps. No nothing.
Finally, Ciaran emerges from the shadows, moving fast enough that relief hits me before I can stop it, his expression thunderous. “The motherfucker’s gone.”
Marius swears under his breath. “Holy shit. You actually saw someone?”
“I saw movement.” His jaw tightens. “Whoever it was knew exactly where they were going.”
He stares back into the corridor like he’s considering chasing the ghost a second time. Then he looks at me, and every shadow in the corridor becomes a place someone could be hiding.
Something dark flashes across his face, his gaze lingering on me for a fraction too long before shifting back toward the darkness. Breathing hard from the sprint and clearly hating the decision, he drags a hand through his hair. Whatever he was planning to do to the person following us dies the second his eyes land on me.
“We’re leaving.”
His hand closes around my wrist one last time before letting go.
Nobody argues this time.
The walk back through Caervast feels endless. Rafe and Marius stay close behind us while Ciaran keeps one hand locked around my wrist and the other steadying the Noctis, as though he’s unwilling to let either of us out of his reach.
The lighter never appears again, and somehow that feels worse.
Deep down, I can’t shake the feeling that someone is looking for me, and the Noctis just told them where to start.
25
CIARAN
