Chapter 22 #2
I am drowning, but for the first time in a long time, I’ve never felt more alive.
I wake in an empty bed, blinking at the sunlight spilling through silk curtains, the sheets still warm beside me. The bed smells faintly of Kieran, like cedar and something delightfully earthly. A scent which has become far too familiar to me.
Last night lingers like traces of stardust—beautiful, glittering, and impossible to forget. It’s sprinkled everywhere in this house, on this bed, and in my ruined heart. Our laughter blurred into something real.
Something I don’t want to admit.
We spent hours on the balcony as the stars rose. The moon hung over us like it was eavesdropping, full and silver, casting a soft glow as our tattoos shimmered in the cold.
And we sat there—talking, drinking, and laughing.
Until the wine blurred into warmth, and the night turned still.
Until three in the morning crept up on us, and the line between “just fun” and something more started to disappear and we spent ages tangled up in each other, lips brushing skin, hands wandering, hearts racing.
Kieran kept muttering, “This is not good for your injury.”
But he couldn’t stop kissing me. And I didn’t want him to.
We were so drunk—on wine, on adrenaline, but mostly on each other.
And if it weren’t for the ache in my ribs, we might have gone further, but Kieran was too careful, too gentle, like touching me too roughly might turn me to dust.
Like I was something breakable, something he held precious.
Gods, I’m in big trouble.
When I finally sit up, I spot a note on the nightstand.
Left you some food in the kitchen.
Will be back later with Lucas.
The bastard hasn’t stopped harassing me about you.
— K.
Oh, Gods.
Lucas.
He must be worried sick.
I hope he doesn’t do anything stupid.
I exhale, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. The wound doesn’t hurt as much as it did yesterday. Kieran gave me some potions to ease the pain—ones I couldn’t take when I was unconscious, which is probably why I didn’t heal as quickly as I did after the first trial.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do now.
I finally had a tour of the house last night, before all the kissing and making out. It’s massive. Three storeys, three bedrooms, a study, a library, a kitchen big enough to feed a village, and a living room that could host a royal banquet.
And it’s bright and warm—homely, even.
But my favourite thing about this place is the bath. It’s sunken into the far end of the bathroom, right in front of a wall of glass that frames the mountains like a painting.
I might spend a little too long in it.
After that, I eat, then I wander into Kieran’s massive library and pick a book at random and devour it in one sitting.
I never pegged Kieran as a fantasy fiction fan, but here we are.
I barely notice the time, when I hear noises from downstairs—footsteps and voices. I bolt from the couch, my ribs flaring in protest, but I don’t care. I’m already running down the stairs before my head can stop me.
And there he is.
Kieran, standing in the entryway with Lucas beside him.
I haven’t seen my friend in days, but all I want to do is throw myself at Kieran.
“Cass, you’re okay.” Lucas pulls me into a hug so tight I wince. “Oh, shit, sorry!” he blurts, pulling back immediately.
“Yeah … I was okay until just now,” I mutter, rubbing my ribs.
“Sorry,” he says again, eyeing Kieran warily. “Last I saw you, you were soaked in blood. And he just took you and vanished. I had to see for myself.”
Kieran rolls his eyes.
Gods, I want to squeeze him. Why is everything he does so bloody adorable?
“I’m okay,” I murmur.
“So why haven’t you been back?”
My eyes flick to Kieran.
That’s a tricky question.
One that Kieran clearly has no intention of answering. He exhales and says, “I’ll let you two talk. I’ve got things to handle back at Court.”
“You’re leaving again?” I frown.
But … he just got back.
Kieran nods. “I might be back late. Someone will bring food by later.” Then he turns to talk to Lucas. “You can leave then.”
“So now you’re timing how long I get with my friend?” Lucas snaps, shaking his head. “She should be back at the Court.”
“No, she shouldn’t,” Kieran says, narrowing his eyes at Lucas, his tone low and sharp. A warning. “And if you’d rather spend hours walking back in the dark, be my guest.”
Lucas doesn’t say anything, but I can tell from his face how much he hates Kieran’s guts.
Well, what else is new?
“I’ll see you later,” Kieran mutters. He doesn’t even meet my eyes. He looks like he’s about to vanish any second.
I push past Lucas and catch him before he disappears.
“Wait,” I whisper.
Just wait.
What’s the rush?
I haven’t seen him all day.
Kieran looks at me. His eyes soften, but he still doesn’t say anything.
Something is … off.
Last night was different.
This seems … cold, distant, coming from someone who spent hours drinking, laughing, kissing me. I fell asleep in his arms.
And now the same person who kissed every inch of me last night won’t look me in the eye.
Is he just stressed from whatever happened at the Court today?
“Kieran.” I tilt my head, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replies—almost too fast. “I just have a lot to do.”
“When will you be back?”
“I’m not sure. But don’t wait up, okay?” he says, squeezing the hand still clutching his arm. His eyes never quite meet mine. “I’ll see you later.”
Then he presses a quick kiss to my hand—and vanishes into thin air.
And I just stand here, confused, wondering what the hell I did wrong.
I want to believe that it’s all in my head. I’m just overthinking it. But I know in my heart something’s off.
“You’re living with him now?” Lucas’s voice cuts through the silence behind me. I stiffen before turning to face him.
He’s standing with his arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes sharp with disapproval. Sometimes, he reminds me of Noah—the way he looks at me like a big brother watching his sister commit a crime.
“It’s not like that.”
“Then please, enlighten me.”
I shake my head and lead him into the living room. I’m very much not in the mood to have this conversation again, because I know exactly how it’s going to end—another blown-out-of-proportion fight, where I’ll get mad, Lucas will be judgy. Then, he’ll apologise, and I’ll forgive him.
Same song, different verse.
And I’m tired of it.
“Did you come here to visit me, or grill me?” I ask quietly. “You promised you wouldn’t cross the line about Kieran.”
Lucas takes a deep breath, like he needs it to take one step back. His shoulders ease slightly as he follows me into the living room and sinks into the armchair.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “But I find it hard to believe that someone like him is … good to you.”
“Kieran would never hurt me.”
He’s never said it aloud.
But I know.
Somehow, I know.
“Don’t get me wrong. I know he cares about you—you should have seen him that night.” Lucas pauses, his face grim as if he’s sorting through a nightmare in his head. “Gods, I thought he was going burn the whole damn Court down. And I don’t know if you know … but he killed the Fae who stabbed you.”
“He told me,” I whisper.
“No, Cass.” Lucas stares at me—really stares at me. His voice hardens. “Killed. As in, turned her into dust.”
I freeze.
Kieran did that?
Oh, Gods …
But then—what the hell was that about just now?
I rub my arm, unable to meet Lucas’s gaze. In his eyes, Kieran must be something monstrous. Terrifying beyond reason. And maybe he is—but that’s just one side of him.
I don’t agree with killing. Unless it’s the bitch who tried to kill me first—then maybe I do.
But if I let even a flicker of emotion show—if Lucas so much as suspects that the idea of Kieran losing control for me makes my heart flutter—he’ll probably lock me up in an asylum and throw the key away.
I clear my throat. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
And there it is again, that look in his eyes—the one that seems unsure whether he still knows me.
“Honestly?” Lucas exhales, long and hard, like he’s given up. “I really don’t know.” He leans back in the armchair, running a hand down his face. “Look, I’m sure you already know this but … you’re only going to get yourself hurt if you actually fall for him.”
I keep my mouth shut.
I think it’s a little late for that.
“Who knows if we’ll still be alive next week,” he adds with a shrug. “So yeah, I get it—if this is just a fling. I just wish you’d help me understand, because I don’t get how you, of all people, came to like him.”
I glance down at my hand, picking off invisible fluff on my shirt—Kieran’s shirt—the one I put on because he refused to take five minutes and vanish to my room to get me fresh clothes.
He likes me in his clothes, he said.
And I was all soft because of that one sentence.
“I don’t know what this is,” I answer truthfully. If this is going to help ease his stress and his worry, then I’ll tell him. “If I’m honest, I haven’t allowed myself to think about it. Because it’s like you said—who knows if we’ll still be alive next week.”
A pause.
I swallow the lump in my throat, but my chest tightens.
“And I don’t know what it is for Kieran, either. We’ve just … been having a good time together,” I say, smiling as I think about it. “And you might not believe this, but Kieran makes me laugh. A lot. I really like being with him.”
Lucas frowns like he can’t imagine it—Kieran laughing, making me laugh.
“Sure, he has that darkness about him. He’s the King of the Court, for Gods’ sake.” I let out a soft breath. “But when he’s with me, he’s something else completely.” I glance up and meet Lucas’s eyes. “And despite what the whole Court thinks … we haven’t even slept together.”
For whatever reason, Lucas’s eyes soften at my words … relief, sadness—I can’t quite tell.
“That last part is actually unbelievable.”
I grin. “I know.”
He huffs a short laugh, then winces, rubbing the back of his neck. “Though … you might want to come up with an excuse when we bring Declan back.”
My smile falters. “I can’t think about that yet.” I shake my head. “Not now.”
I can’t do it. I refuse to worry about things that may never come to pass, because what are the chances of that ever happening? What if someone like Jordan wins the trials instead?
I need to take every day as it comes.
And right now, it’s with Kieran, as irresponsible as it sounds.
“Fair enough.” Lucas lets out a soft breath and lets the subject go. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Yeah, sorry if I scared you.” My voice drops. “I woke up yesterday and could barely move. I would’ve asked Kieran to take me to you, too.”
“And now I’ve got a timed visit.” Lucas snorts.
I laugh. “To be honest, I’m surprised he even let you in at all.”
He shakes his head. “So, when are you coming back?”
“I don’t really know.” I shrug. “I mean, I’m off work for obvious reasons, but Kieran brought me here because it’s safer than the Court. He said the attack was a test to see how much I mattered to him. And now he’s convinced the rebellion is going to use me against him.”
“Gods, this is more complicated than I thought.” Lucas exhales. “Can’t he just post guards outside your door? I know a few people who can be trusted with that.”
Look at him. Knowing people now.
“You should tell that to Kieran. See what he says.”
I get another exhale in response—we both already know the answer.
Talking to Kieran is like talking to a wall. If he doesn’t want to do something, then he doesn’t want to do something. I think the best solution is to stop pushing and see how things go.
Lucas stays for a few more hours. We sprawl across the oversized living room, talking about everything and nothing. He tells me what he was up to today, then I give him a dramatic tour of the house like I actually own the place.
Around seven, Gideon arrives with carefully packed dinner, and Lucas leaves with him.
Yes, Kieran sent one of his High Commanders to deliver me food. I’m pretty sure that doesn’t fall under Gideon’s duties, but here we are.
I know Kieran said I shouldn’t wait—but I do anyway.
I tell myself I’m not tired because we went to bed so late. I haven’t just been waiting. I’ve been reading. Snacking. Reading again.
Hours tick by.
Kieran still isn’t home.
By two in the morning, I finally crawl into bed alone.
The sheets still smell like Kieran, but they’re cold now.
The next morning, I wake up with nothing but myself—and the growing questions in my chest.