Chapter 23
Cillian turned into a statue at Thorin’s request, and I hated seeing him like this. As if my Beast was muzzled when he wanted to tear this man limb from limb.
Truth be told, I’d understand if he did.
Bloodthirstiness had never raged inside me like this before, but Thorin reminded me of every loathsome asshole I’d dealt with my entire life.
“What do you want?” Cillian snarled, his grasp on civility at its limits.
“You know what we want,” Olivia said cryptically, a smug look on her lips I itched to punch off.
“Your time is running out,” Thorin said, darkness simmering in his eyes.
Cillian’s shoulders stiffened.
“Your attempt here won’t work,” Olivia said, casting an ugly stare in my direction. I restrained the urge to stomp on her foot. “The wheels are in motion, and they can’t be stopped.”
What was she referring to? I watched Cillian carefully, the hateful look in his eyes as he stared the pair of them down.
How he could possibly be using me, I didn’t know.
After all, if he’d wanted to, I could have been cast away to the Pits, but instead he’d given me a position by his side.
He’d offered me a community when I hadn’t experienced that before.
He’d offered safety and bliss and kindness.
“You’re stating things I’m well aware of,” he commented, and his hand slipped around my hip, drawing me to his side. “And Beau isn’t an attempt. Leave him out of this.”
The fierceness in his tone swept through me, expunging any doubts I had. Even though he held his secrets, I trusted him in a way I hadn’t with many before.
“Tick tock,” Thorin said. The cruel twist of his lips seared into me, and I hated how Cillian’s muscles tightened, as if the man had something over him.
As if the man could exterminate his life in the same manner he’d done with Cillian’s parents.
The idea of that—my soul chilled at the mere thought.
“Come on, Beau,” Cillian said, guiding me away from them. “Let’s go speak to people worthwhile.”
I’d spent enough time by his side to notice when Cillian brimmed with that wild nature he often kept back, and Thorin brought it out effortlessly. However, he didn’t have to face this alone.
I might not know what was going on between him and Thorin, but I did know Cillian. I reached for his hand on my hip and entwined my fingers through his. “Is that dance floor for show, or will there be actual dancing?”
Cillian cocked a brow. “I didn’t think you were the dancing type.”
“I’m not opposed,” I said. “Just never made it much of a habit.”
“And what makes you think I am?” he asked, a teasing note to his voice that I cherished.
“The way you move,” I murmured, my throat dry with want. He was wildness and restraint in the same breath, and I craved him with everything in me.
“That’s a very different sort of movement,” he said with a low growl, as he let go of my hip and intertwined his fingers with mine again, holding my hand. “However, I’m happy to take the distraction you’re offering.”
Busted. My lips twitched with amusement, as did his.
I’d never fallen in love before, no one had managed to get close enough to me, but with him I was dangerously close.
He brought me over to the side of the ballroom where a man stood by a setup for handling the lighting and music.
I recognized him because I’d done the coordination in the first place.
“Start the dance music now,” Cillian said to him with the same politeness as always—which was none.
Yet the guy just grinned. “Sure thing, boss.”
“Are you ready?” he asked.
I stared over at the empty dance floor and gulped. When I’d suggested the idea, I’d thought we’d wait until everyone flooded in and then mingle amid the crowd. Yet Cillian didn’t seem to need crowds. He didn’t mind standing out.
And I’d be right by his side through the whole night.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet now,” Cillian said, the teasing edge in his voice the exact push I needed.
I shot him a look. “I’m the one who suggested it. Come on, lead the way.”
A smug smile rose on his lips, one that made me want to kiss him.
Music poured through the speakers, louder, drawing the attention of the throngs of people who’d congregated for this gala.
Based on some of the startled expressions, it would seem there was supposed to be more time for conversing before the music started, but Cillian was never one to follow the rules.
I’d seen it in his board meetings, and I witnessed it here now.
He was a fighter, and I admired that about him more than anything.
Anyone who’d been born into his life could easily have become corrupted.
He could’ve become the carbon copy his father wanted him to be.
But instead, he’d chosen to serve his community.
To make space for others. To protect those in his circle with his resources and power.
Music poured from the speakers, an elegant classical piece that fit with the opulence of the gala.
“Is this where I admit I have no idea how to dance to this?” I murmured.
“Don’t worry,” he said, his rich voice setting me at ease. “Just follow my lead.”
Cillian swept me out to the middle of the dance floor, and the press of eyes around us crept in, threatening to overwhelm me. Everyone stared at us, the casual conversation trailing to a trickle with the change in music and our appearance here.
And I didn’t know how to dance. My only experience was the occasional foray at a club, and that sort of dancing wasn’t the type to whip out here.
Yet Cillian gripped my hip with one hand and rested his other on my shoulder, and the way he casually possessed my body reminded me we’d already danced a dozen times over.
He’d asked me to follow his lead, and I knew how to do that.
The proximity of his body and the firm way he held me offered all the reminder I needed.
When Cillian took the first step, he swept me along with him, and I followed with ease.
Our bodies communicated even when our mouths couldn’t. No matter the secrets that still brimmed between us, when we came together, everything else melted away. We were stripped down to all that mattered, and at the core of things, that raw truth was exactly why I trusted him.
Cillian swept me across the ballroom floor, a back and forth, back and forth sway to our steps that was easy to follow with the beat of the melody and how he telegraphed his movements.
I’d surrendered to him over and over in bed, so this felt like an extension of that as I trusted him to guide me here.
So many stared at us, but as I focused on my dance with Cillian, the pressure diminished.
As with any time we were close to each other, everything else faded away.
Right now, it was just me and him dancing on the polished floor, the music cascading over us.
He whirled me around with a smoothness that didn’t surprise me but entranced me all the more.
The tenderness in his expression struck me square in the heart.
I never thought I’d witness it from a man I’d believed was formed from ice, but the more he melted for me, the more I craved him.
“You’re doing well, pet,” he murmured, his voice low enough only I’d hear. The praise trickled through me, filling me up with sunlight.
“You’re the one taking a risk here, not me,” I responded, unable to hide my snark. He grinned back at me, and the way his eyes crinkled made my heart reel. God, he’d ensnared me completely.
“Funny, because I’m not scared in the slightest.” He swayed with me on the floor, our steps in tandem with the constant forward movement and retreat that was wholly us.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed another couple sweep onto the floor. Charles and Theo were dressed to the nines tonight, both in tailored tuxes, and they danced close to us.
“We couldn’t let you two suffer alone,” Charles called over.
“So you decided to add to my suffering,” Cillian teased.
However, Theo and Charles had broken whatever invisible barrier had kept people from joining us, and other couples filtered onto the dance floor, swirling and turning around us.
As much as a part of me had enjoyed taking the risk with Cillian, diving into the center of the ballroom with him, relief rushed through me that our movements were more obscured, that the spotlight was no longer solely on us.
We continued to circle around, this time to the next song that poured through the speakers, and I savored how Cillian guided me still, his movements fluid and graceful.
I could feel the way his tension leached away, how our dance had accomplished what I’d hoped.
His palm on my hip felt like a brand, and I loved how he staked his claim by both word and action.
“This wasn’t a terrible idea,” he said as we swirled around. “Normally I have to suffer through far more small talk.”
“Perish the thought,” I teased.
“Thankfully I only have to host one of these a year,” he said. “And then I can go back to ignoring most of these people the rest of the time.”
“You clearly hold them in such high esteem.”
“Esteem is earned,” he said, his tone taking on a more serious note. The way he stared at me, the intensity there, had me almost stumbling on the next movement. “You won mine early on.”
Pride thrummed through me at the statement, even though I indulged in the urge to joke. “It was the constant reminders I was a librarian, wasn’t it?”
Cillian snorted. “You’re fearless when it matters, and I admire the hell out of that.”
“Careful with all these compliments. They might go to my head,” I warned as he swayed with me again. Here on the dance floor with him, I could feel how our souls connected, like sparks trying to find each other and merge.
I’d never experienced it before in my life, and I doubt I would again.
“Then I’ll have to continue until you believe them,” he said.
His words traveled straight to my heart and lived there.
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