11. Hayden
“Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?” Knox asked for the sixth time.
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.”
Cáel frowned. “You need to eat. It’s how you heal.”
I sighed. “It’s been a day, guys. I’ll eat a good breakfast tomorrow.”
How the hell was I supposed to have an appetite when bomb after bomb had been dropped, and it was clear there were a million secrets still being kept? It was clear as day that both Maddox and Cillian had a river of bad blood with the council. But both had disappeared the moment the council members had left. Easton had been close on their heels.
Knox and Cáel had stuck close, but I was honestly starting to feel a little suffocated. I pushed up off the couch.
They both started to rise, but I held out a hand to stop them. “Thank you. For being here. For supporting me. You both mean more to me than you’ll ever know.” Those three little words were on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back. “I just need some time to process, okay?”
Cáel frowned. “Alone?”
Damn it. This felt like kicking a puppy.
I crossed to him, stepping between his legs. I ran my hand over his head, his silky blond braids and dreads sifting through my fingers. Leaning down, I took his mouth. The kiss wasn’t aggressive; it was comfort and reassurance. I poured everything into it that I couldn’t give voice to yet.
When I pulled back, Cáel’s eyes were hooded. I traced my fingers over the tattoos on his neck. “Always with you.”
A tenderness filled his expression that had a burn lighting my throat. He pressed a fist to his chest. “Always in here.”
“Always,” I whispered.
I released my hold on Cáel and moved to Knox. He sent me a hesitant smile. “We’re hovering again, aren’t we?”
My lips twitched. “Maybe just a little.”
Knox pulled me toward him, his hands on my ass. “We hover because we care.”
My hands rested on his shoulders. “I know. It’s been a really long time since anyone has had my back. I’m still just getting used to it.”
Knox scowled. “I wish we’d been there for you from the beginning.”
I bent, kissing him deeply, warmth spreading through me at the contact. “You’re here now.”
Straightening, I stepped out of his hold. “I’ll be back.”
Cáel full-on pouted, but Knox smacked him with a pillow.
“Come on. Let’s play some Xbox.”
Cáel grunted but picked up a controller. They’d be okay.
I made my way out of the family room and down the hallway. I hadn’t lied. I did need some time to process. But that processing required answers. And Cillian was the one who’d have them.
I tried his office first, thinking he might have holed up there, but the space was dark. I opted for his bedroom next, but that, too, was empty. I stood in the hallway, thinking. Then I remembered another room.
Following the maze that was this house, I finally found the door that led to the basement. As I opened it, faint strains of hard-hitting rock reached my ears. Bingo.
I headed down the stairs, stopping short in the massive, state-of-the-art gym. It had more machines and equipment than I could quickly count. But my eyes zeroed in on one thing.
Cillian.
A shirtless Cillian. Sweat glistened on his muscles as his fists connected with a heavy bag. Each hit made the bag shake and swing.
There was a beauty to it, the way he moved around the black form, bobbing and weaving between each punch. But I could also see the fury behind each connection, and beneath that, the pain.
My chest constricted as he leveled an especially vicious punch at the bag.
“This isn’t the time, Hayden.”
Cillian hadn’t once looked away from the heavy bag, but of course, he knew I was there.
I took a deep breath and walked farther into the gym instead of retreating.
“Hayden,” he growled.
“I’m not leaving.”
Cillian’s head snapped up. His eyes had bled completely black. “You’re not?”
I swallowed hard. I guessed an alpha wasn’t used to getting the no sort of answers. “I’m not.”
“Why. Not?” Cillian gritted out as he prowled toward me.
I squared my shoulders, a ridiculous attempt to stand my ground when Cillian was over a foot taller than me. “Because you’re hurting.”
He came up short, stopping in his tracks. “Little Flame…”
There was so much pain in those two words, so much unspoken emotion.
I closed the distance between us, taking one of his hands. I slowly unwound the black wraps on his fists. When the material fell to the ground, I could see that the flesh on his knuckles was torn.
I moved on instinct, lifting his hand to my mouth and brushing my lips across the torn skin.
“Careful. I’m not in control right now.”
I lifted my gaze to Cillian’s. “Then lose control with me.”