Chapter 28
Wolfe
Cillian stared at me as Niamh walked down the hill, disappearing into the distance. Damnit. I hadn’t meant for us to fall asleep together. I definitely hadn’t meant to like it, to wake up feeling like I was sleeping on a fucking cloud instead of the hard ground.
“Well, that was interesting,” Cillian said.
“Why?” I kicked some dirt over the fire to put out the glowing embers.
“I’ve just never seen you get so close to anyone. It seems like Niamh might bring out some sunshine after all.”
I jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare start calling me that.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bad thing, Wolfe.” He paused. “Mother says hi, by the way.”
“I’ll visit her soon,” I said, wincing.
“You say that every month.”
I finished covering the embers and turned around to walk toward my cabin. “And every month I get busy. We see each other at the castle.”
“You’re not that busy.” Cillian trailed after me.
I whirled to face him. “Is there something you need?”
He stared at me. “I walked through town alone this morning. Aren’t you going to scold me?”
I blinked a few times, letting his words settle. I hadn’t even noticed. The high prince had left the castle and was by himself with no one to protect him, and I hadn’t noticed.
I pushed a hand through my hair, knowing exactly why I hadn’t noticed. I’d been distracted by a woman I had no right being distracted by.
“What if there had been an attack?” I glared at Cillian, and the bastard was smiling.
“There wasn’t. Also, you do know that I am trained to use a sword. Lor wasn’t the only one you mentored.”
The name was a gut punch, a reminder of why I had to be so focused.
“The attacks are happening more often,” I said through gritted teeth. “You can’t just roam around on your own, Cillian. You have to think of others. Of your kingdom.”
He threw out his arms. “That’s all I think of. Why do you think I brought Niamh here?” He shot me a curious look. “Though I’m starting to think the castle wants her for something else.”
I had no idea what that meant, but my brain was still stuck on Cillian’s idiocy. “You’re not to wander again. If I have to, I’ll move into the castle.”
Cillian barked out a laugh. “No you won’t. You hate people too much.”
That wasn’t true. At least there was one person I didn’t hate, which was the entire problem.
“Hey.” Cillian stepped forward and put a hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t seem fine. You seem grumpier than usual, which is definitely saying something.”
My fists clenched at my sides. “I said I’m fine.”
He sighed heavily, and in the moment, it looked like the entire weight of Fairwitch Isle sat on my brother’s shoulders.
I looked at Cillian, really looked at him, noticed the bags under his eyes, the few strands of hair out of place, the gold shirt he was wearing for the second day in a row, slightly wrinkled.
Had he been up all night working? Worrying? I had no idea because he didn’t tell me anything anymore. I’d lost that right, I supposed, but I found myself saying, “Are you okay lately? Have you been getting enough sleep?”
“I don’t want to talk about me right now.” He peered at me from underneath the long lashes that women went wild over.
Right. Cillian had our mother, his father, Nevan, advisers, and Niamh. He could talk to any of them. He didn’t need his fucked-up older brother trying to give him advice when I didn’t even have a hold over my own life.
“It’s okay to feel things, Wolfe,” Cillian said. “It’s okay to let people get close, you know.”
My jaw locked, the words poking the most tender places of my heart. “I don’t need to be told that.”
“I think you do,” Cillian said. “You just told me that I need to think of others, but I think you need the opposite. I think you need to think about yourself for once. Think about what you want.”
Niamh’s face flashed in my mind, and I pushed the image away.
“Think about what you need.”
Niamh’s body curled into mine at night, her face against my chest.
“Stop,” I said, holding out a hand. “Just stop. I am what I am, and there is nothing that can change that.”
Cillian let out a soft laugh. “Something is already changing that. You’re changing, and you won’t even admit why.”
This conversation was starting to feel like a riddle, like Cillian was trying to tell me something that I couldn’t understand. He wasn’t Nevan, wasn’t straightforward and to the point, but I understood enough of what he was hinting at.
“Yes, Niamh has wheedled her way into my life,” I said. “She talks. A lot. She doesn’t pick up on cues like other people and leave me alone. I guess I could call her a friend.”
Cillian smiled widely, and guilt surged through me.
If only he knew what I was really thinking.
He’d kill me if he knew that I’d seen Niamh naked last night, that I’d desperately wanted to step into the steaming pool with her and run my hands over her bare skin, trail my lips over every single part of her body, to know what it felt like to be inside her.
That I’d stroked myself thinking of her and I’d come harder than I ever had before.
I’d already betrayed one brother by not being more vigilant, by not saving him.
Now I was betraying another in a different way.
No, Cillian didn’t have feelings for Niamh—not that I knew of—but he was hanging all his hopes on her, and if I allowed this to go further than it already had, I’d crush that hope.
Niamh might very well be the future queen of this kingdom, and I needed to get a grip on myself.
Except Niamh wasn’t so easy to get rid of, which meant I needed to push her away and make sure this didn’t go any farther. I’d have to do something, say something, that would ensure she wouldn’t come around anymore—ensure I wouldn’t cross any more lines.
“Let’s get back to town,” I said abruptly, Cillian still smiling like an idiot.
“Looking forward to the party tonight?” He winked.
Not at all. I was going to have to do something I absolutely didn’t want to. I was going to have to hurt Niamh enough that she’d never want to see me again.