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Behind him, Rafe stalks straight past us and down the adjoining staircase with one of the guards struggling to keep up beside him, rolling his sleeves higher like he's disappointed there isn't already blood on the floor somewhere.

Farther back in the hall, one of the Virel guards murmurs into his comms.

"We're clear on the lower level."

"Nothing outside east access."

Ciaran barely even glances away from me when the guard finishes speaking. "Keep looking," he snaps. "Somebody was here."

The guard nods and disappears back down the hallway.

Only then does Ciaran look at me properly again, his hand still curled at my nape like he forgot to let go of it. "Your breathing's a mess, baby."

"I am breathing," I manage, though the words come out uneven between shallow breaths.

His eyes flick toward the warning still flashing across my band before returning to my face. "Yeah," he mutters. "Technically."

He's right. My hands are shaking hard enough now that I can feel it in my fingers, still clutched around the multi-slate, the adrenaline finally catching up with me now that he's here, now that I'm no longer alone in the corridor convincing myself I was imagining everything.

"Maybe it was nothing," I whisper. "Maybe I just⁠—"

"No." Ciaran's hand tightens against the back of my neck.

Behind us, Rafe returns from the stairwell, jaw tight. "Nobody. Unless your stalker learned how to vanish into walls."

Ciaran huffs at that and takes the multi-slate gently out of my trembling hand, his gaze dropping to the warning still pulsing across my medical band. It has dropped to amber now. "Your heart's still spiking."

I swallow. "I'm okay. I can just go back to my room. Damaris is back anyway. He'll keep an eye on me." I try for a weak smile. "He's used to it."

Ciaran stares at me for a long moment like the suggestion itself offends him. "You're not sleeping in that dorm tonight."

"Ciaran—"

"No." He presses his thumb against the side of my neck beneath my pulse, his gaze dropping to the amber glow of the band before returning to my face. "You called me scared out of your fucking mind, little mouse. You don't get to act brave now."

Behind him, the stained-glass windows throw fractured moonlight across the corridor floor while the old halls of Caervast settle back into silence around us, ancient and watchful and full of shadows that feel much less empty than they used to.

I should argue. I should tell him no.

Instead, I let him guide me down the corridor with his hand still resting against the back of my neck, steering me through the dark halls of Caervast like he's finally gotten his hands on something he plans to play with properly.

I know I should fight him on this. I shouldn't go anywhere with him after everything that's happened tonight.

But I'm too tired. Too wound up. Too scared of being left alone in the dark again.

So for the first time since arriving at Caervast, I go willingly.

17

CIARAN

“Welcome,” I say as Rowan steps over the threshold beside me, still pale from the corridor and pretending very badly not to stare, “to my humble home.”

He stops in the entrance hall, his gaze lifting toward the vaulted ceiling and black stone arches cutting through the amber light. His lashes flutter before he lowers his eyes again, and something tight twists low in my chest at the sight of him standing there with his soft gold hair and borrowed fear still clinging to him.

“This is not humble,” he says.

“No?” I grin, leaning one shoulder against the doorway as I watch him.