Chapter Twenty-Seven
When they finally arrived at her door, the hall was empty. Quiet. Everyone had already gone to bed.
She turned to Ronan, his long hair mussed from where she’d run her hands through it; dirt from the arena stained his leather training armor. In the flickering light, he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She’d had to fight the urge to pull him to her the entire walk back to her room.
Now, standing here, her mind screamed at her to have caution. But instead, she whispered a soft question. “Do you . . . want to come in?”
In his amber eyes, she saw the logical side of him fight to be heard. The side that constantly analyzed and moved only when he was sure of the correct choice. But she also saw the desire.
He nodded, reaching his arm behind her to rest on the door handle. For a moment, she was pinned by him. She bit her lip, thrilling at the closeness.
The door opened, and she stumbled back, saved from falling only by his hand coming to her waist.
“Sorry.” His laugh was barely a breath. Staring up at him, his head tilted down to hers, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do. The moment felt like it was made of spun glass, fragile yet beautiful.
“We had an agreement,” he whispered, eyes falling to her lips.
She stepped back, pulling him with her into the room. Thankfully, Murphy wasn’t curled up in his bed—back at the lake, surely. The door closed behind them. “We did.”
The hand on her waist didn’t move, while his other hand found her hair, undoing the ribbon tying it up. His eyes darkened as her locks fell.
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse with desire. “All of the reasons why we shouldn’t—they haven’t changed.” There was a question in his eyes, and she wished she knew the right answer.
She could offer him only the truth. “I was afraid, but those fears feel so small now. This mission, what happened to Sárait—there are so many more pressing dangers, so many more ways to lose myself and everyone I care about. Everything else can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, I want to cling tight to one thing I’m certain about. You.”
Emotion pooled in his eyes. He closed the meager distance between them, and his lips caressed hers. Before, she had been scared of what could happen if she let herself get closer to him, but with every word he whispered, every touch shared between them, any lingering worries melted away.
His lips brushed hers as he spoke. “What about your kingdom?”
“Nothing has changed, except álainndore is facing a greater threat right now. I can’t promise the future, but while we’re at Caisleán . . .”
“I’ll take whatever I can get.” He caught her face between his hands, and when he kissed her again, she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
There was an urgency coursing between them.
She undid the ties holding his armor to him before bringing her hands to the hem of his shirt and quickly lifting it over his head between kisses.
With deft hands, he undid the laces of her training gear.
His head fell to where her shoulder and neck met and branded the spot with kisses as he worked.
She let her fingers roam his chest, her entire world narrowing to the places where their skin touched.
When he finished his task and her clothes fell to the cold ground, he backed away, drinking her in. An embarrassing sound left her throat at his sudden absence, but he gave her only a teasing smile. There was a hunger in his eyes, an emotion she was sure was mirrored in her own.
In the dimly lit room, she could barely make out the shape of him.
Still, she admired what she could see. The solid planes of his body, built from years of relentless training.
The way his hair fell, for once not tied back or hidden by armor.
The scattered scars marking him. She wanted to take her time and learn the story about each one, but she would have to wait for another opportunity. Tonight, she was too impatient.
His hand came to rest on her cheek, its soft touch holding her back. “Are you sure?”
Sensing the insecurity behind the hesitation, Clía’s arms rose to hold him. “I told you: I want this. I want you.”
“I don’t want you to regret this,” he admitted.
“I could never regret you.”
As soon as she said it, she knew it was true. No matter what the gods threw at them, whether he was in her presence or in her memory, he would always be a light in her life.
He led her to the bed and gently lowered himself on top of her.
One of his legs slid between hers as he propped himself up on elbow and knee.
Still, she welcomed his weight. He trailed kisses down her neck, her chest, and lower, until she was left gasping for breath.
Finally, when Ronan decided she had been tormented enough, the rest of his clothes fell to the floor with her training gear.
The moment the two of them joined, Clía knew without a doubt that she would never feel this way about someone else.
After training together for so long, they knew how to read each other, anticipating the other’s movements and desires.
And like in training, neither of them held back.
She found herself lost in the feeling of him, her head cloudy with pleasure that seemed to grow to a glorious peak.
Ronan followed shortly after, collapsing on the bed beside her, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She foolishly hoped he would never let go.
***
WAKING UP IN RONAN’S EMbrACE WAS A GIFT SHE’D NEVER expected to experience.
She could easily see herself becoming spoiled and craving it every day.
Sleep seemed to wash away the years of death and danger, leaving him with a peaceful look she had seen him wear only a few times before.
He was beautiful, and she didn’t know how she could have avoided falling for him.
The thought made her falter. After last night, it wasn’t surprising, but it was dangerous. Love had never been a realistic option for her. It couldn’t creep into her life now. Not when this wouldn’t last. It wasn’t fair to her, or to him.
Strange, how not long ago she’d walked away from him out of fear of caring too much, and of the damage he could do to her. Had it already been too late then?
Somehow, Ronan had carved himself a place in her heart, and she would have to deal with the consequences when they came. The pain was unavoidable; it was only fair she tried to enjoy every moment before the inevitable end.
Placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, careful not to wake him, Clía dressed for the day. For the first time since she’d enlisted Ronan’s help, she was grateful he woke her up at ungodly hours of the morning. It meant she wasn’t late.
The main entrance of Caisleán Cósta was quiet when she arrived.
The early morning sun peeked in through tall windows, illuminating ó Connor in golden light as he stood waiting by the door, his Caisleán insignia pin shining against the dark green of his travel cloak.
She rarely saw him wear the pin in álainndore, but it made sense for him to display it proudly here.
Despite always being quiet about his time there, the castle must have brought back many memories for him.
“Why must you leave so soon?” Clía said to him, sending a pointed glare to the trunks by his side as if they were what sent him away. She had barely gotten the chance to see him during his visit.
ó Connor sent her a soft smile. “I have duties to attend to. Don’t fret. We’ll see each other again before you know it.”
She knew she couldn’t argue. Having him here at Caisleán had brought a comfort to her she didn’t know she needed, but it would be selfish to keep him here. álainndore needed him.
“Promise you’ll visit again?” Her voice was as delicate as the lace trim of her blouse.
“I promise,” he said.
For a moment, her smile faltered. A slight twitch. One he didn’t miss.
“Do you remember when you first started sewing? You were five, and you were determined to become a seamstress.”
“Really?” Clía asked.
ó Connor laughed. “Yes. It was after one of Domhnall’s first visits to the palace.
During a banquet, some girl at court made a mean comment about the dress you wore, and you were so upset.
You asked me for a needle and thread and decided to fix the problem yourself.
It wasn’t very successful, but something in you seemed to calm in the process.
When you wanted to shadow the palace tailors, your parents insisted it was beneath you, but you weren’t discouraged.
You learned everything you could from that moment on. And now look at you.
“When you first told me about your plan to come here, I saw that same fire in you. I knew you would do great things, but you still managed to surprise me.” His arms wrapped around her in a tight hug. “Your kingdom will be proud. I’m so proud of you.”
When Clía had first walked through the halls of Caisleán, she felt as if all she knew was crumbling.
Fractures tore into her sense of self, her confidence, and were sealed with doubt.
In these past months, she’d built herself up into the person she knew she was meant to be. Someone strong. Someone brave.
ó Connor’s pride was proof of her growth, and while she had to blink away the emotion building behind her eyes, she knew she didn’t need these words of validation. She no longer chased them as she once had. Still, she tucked her chin into his shoulder, giving herself this one moment.
When he pulled back, she stood straight and tall.
He walked out the doors, leaving her behind in the empty atrium.
By the time Clía reached the stables, Niamh, Ronan, and ó Dálaigh were already waiting. It was no surprise. The latter had a responsibility to make sure this ran smoothly; Ronan was, well, Ronan; and Niamh simply had no flaws.
Clía stood beside Ronan, and he spoke too low for anyone else to hear. “You left early this morning. I was worried.”
“I had to say goodbye to ó Connor,” she replied.