Chapter 22
“Do I really need to wear this?” I asked Amelia, gesturing to the burnished gold tuxedo she’d provided. It was a finely tailored affair, and she had my size down pat. I’d never worn fitted clothing until I’d arrived here, and I couldn’t say I hated it.
Amelia crossed her arms and leaned against the side of the open door. “You’ll be on Cillian’s arm tonight, so yes. Musty librarian chic won’t cut it for this affair, since he’s the host of this event.”
“Rude,” I responded as I closed the distance to snag the suit from her.
“I’m glad you’re going,” she murmured, her gaze softening. Getting those slips from Amelia was rare, and I froze mid-grab. “He’s been…lighter recently. And I’m aware of what changed things.”
I swallowed hard. “Maybe he’s just out of his seasonal depression.”
Amelia let out a sharp laugh. “Right. Do we call seven years of sulking seasonal depression now?”
“If it fits,” I responded. “Do you have to don a fancy getup too? Some sort of ballgown?” Though the idea of Amelia in a ballgown broke my brain a bit.
She tossed her head back and laughed. “Security uniform for me. I’m on high alert tonight with the amount of threats lining up at our door. Someone has to keep Cillian safe, since he won’t.”
I swallowed hard, the weight of the comment sinking in deep.
Cillian was immensely powerful, not just in size but in the way he strategized, how he thought ahead.
Yet his recklessness, how he flirted with danger, how he showed up covered in gashes, only intensified the melancholy air that sometimes settled in around him.
As if he were living moment by moment but knew he didn’t have many left.
As if death had chased him for a while, gaining on him with every passing day.
“I’ll try to keep him out of trouble,” I commented.
Amelia lifted a brow. “Good luck with that.”
“Hence the reason I said try,” I commented. “Are you escorting me down once I’m ready?”
“Yes, so hurry up,” she said. “I don’t have hours to wait while you preen.”
Thankfully I’d showered and done my hair, so the last thing I needed to do was put on the suit.
I didn’t bother to close the door on Amelia, simply swept into the private bathroom and shut myself in there.
The air grew thick with residual steam, but I made quick work of peeling my clothes off and then slipping into the slacks and pressed button-down before wrangling the suit jacket on.
The bow tie was last, and I stood in front of the mirror as I tied it in place.
Upon first glance, the tux had looked a bit too flashy for my taste, but it was more of a brown with burnished gold accents that caught the eye.
It fit me as well as I’d hoped, the material comfortable, same with the way it clung to my body.
My golden curls stood out even more in this suit, and the color made my blue eyes pop.
I took the time to smooth down the fabric and tweak my curls, but all too soon, I was ready.
The person in front of me looked so different from the one who’d arrived in the Spires.
I stood taller now, despite the danger I faced.
I’d never liked my nose—found it a little too arrogant—but it fit me now in an unexpected way.
I’d seen from Cillian that arrogance could be a weapon wielded in the right circles.
And tonight, I’d need everything in my arsenal.
I took a shaky breath in and then slipped on the socks and deep brown leather lace-ups provided. All of it offered armor tonight, especially if Olivia or Thorin were in the mix.
But I’d have the best protection in the world, because I’d be by Cillian’s side the entire time.
When I emerged from the bathroom, Amelia let out a low whistle. “Not my type, but you’re far too pretty, Beau Taylor.”
I flushed. Amelia didn’t give praise freely, so I’d accept the compliment from her.
“Let’s get going,” she said. “Cillian’s waiting downstairs.”
My heart thudded hard. I’d been busy helping with preparations, so now that the event was underway already, I’d be entering at the same time the other attendees were.
Casinos from all over the world, not just Peregrine City, were congregating here tonight, bringing in their best dealers, their CEOs, their heads of marketing.
We headed down the hallway and toward the elevator.
The conference had been happening all day, but the gala was tonight, providing all the glitz Peregrine City had to offer, which was what everyone waited for.
We stepped onto the elevator, and Amelia pushed the second-floor button.
“Here,” she said, passing me an elegant gold bracelet. “Put this on.”
“What is it, a tracking device?” I joked.
Amelia gave me a level look back.
I slipped it onto my wrist. “Electronic or spelled?”
“Spelled by yours truly,” she said, cracking me a grin. “With Thorin lurking down there, we aren’t taking any chances.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, rubbing a thumb over the smooth surface. When I’d first arrived here, this would’ve felt like a shackle, but after experiencing the genuine threat of Thorin Glass and Glacier Industries, I’d rather Cillian be able to find me—no matter what.
Somehow, he’d become a safe place.
The elevator settled on the second floor, and the doors swept open.
“Come on,” Amelia said. “Cillian’s in the ballroom.”
My throat dried as we swept through the second floor, which was already lavish and meticulously maintained.
Now, even more delicate touches elevated it, from fresh bouquets of pink roses and sprays of assorted white flowers to the sweeping classical music that poured from the speakers.
The closest I’d been to anything like this was a wedding, but my father and I hadn’t been invited to many of those while I was growing up.
The chandeliers in the main area glittered, casting fragmented reflections onto the ground.
Many people wandered by, in lavish dresses of every shade and tailored tuxes in browns and blacks.
The beauty and wealth dripping off the people around me was unparalleled, but I’d spent a lifetime looking beyond the surface.
I grew aware of the tight smiles, the lack of emotion in their eyes, as the guests engaged with each other.
I was also aware of the variety of species represented here, a fair number of monsters among the throngs of people, from minotaurs to kraken, all equally well dressed.
I didn’t doubt a human-held event would have extended significantly fewer invitations to monsterkind.
As we headed closer to the ballroom, the noise grew louder from the volume of people sure to be congregating there. Sweat broke out on my palms. Who was I to be attending at Cillian’s side? A random librarian who happened to be his personal assistant?
“Stay safe,” Amelia murmured. “Don’t leave Cillian.”
I swallowed hard. “I won’t.”
I was here to avoid becoming a target or distraction, not because Cillian wanted to claim me as his in front of the city. As much as I’d begun to desire that, I needed to stay grounded.
We stepped through the doors into the magnificent ballroom of the Spires.
The room was massive and held a dark elegance I expected from Cillian at this point.
Black-and-white crystal chandeliers dangled down, casting their stunning beams and shadows onto the polished gray surface of the dance floor.
The seats surrounding it were all black with rich blue accents, and the curtains were the same hue of blue.
Azure flowers with lush petals decorated every table, matching the rest of the décor, and the flickering candles on every one added to the unique lighting in here.
Many people were seated, no one taking to the dance floor yet, but I spotted Cillian at once.
He wore a black tux with a blue pocket square, the suit showcasing how massive he was.
His horns were polished, his black hair tamed, and every inch of him appeared regal and stately.
He was in the middle of a conversation by a table on the opposite side of the room, and we made a beeline in his direction. My nerves mounted.
We were only feet away when Cillian looked in our direction.
His gaze landed on me, and nothing else mattered.
Those rich golden eyes flared as he scanned me from head to toe, as if committing the visual to memory.
A shiver ran through me at the intensity, at how the ballroom sparked degrees hotter when I was around him.
As much as I’d worried about how the rest of the crowd would respond to me being at his side, I’d forgotten about the potency of his presence, how nothing else seemed to matter when his focus was on me.
“Your date for the evening,” Amelia announced as she placed a hand on my lower back and shoved me forward.
I shot her a look, and she offered a secretive grin before making a disappearance.
Cillian’s hand replaced hers on my lower back, and the touch ignited me at once.
My whole body prickled with awareness. I’d experienced everything those capable hands could do, and the flood of memories, the claim in his gesture, sent a torrent of heat rolling through me.
I could keep it together for a night, though, without climbing onto his lap and begging him to fuck me.
Even if those fantasies ran rampant through my mind.
“Beau, this is Frederick Highsayer,” Cillian said, gesturing to the hulking man in front of me.
Even though he appeared human, I clocked him as monster, particularly due to Cillian’s comfort around him.
Around human acquaintances, he tended to be on edge a bit more.
The only exceptions were people like Gretel or Charles, who he knew well. Maybe this guy was a were like Theo?
“Pleased to meet you.” I offered a hand, and Frederick shook, giving me a deliberate eye-scan.
“He’s mine,” Cillian said to the man firmly, a warning in his tone.
Frederick’s brows rose. “Staking a claim? How unlike you, Ashmore.”