Chapter 17
Nevan
“Will you get your head out of your ass already?” Wolfe growled as he jabbed me with his wooden sword for the fifth time that day.
Cillian sat in front of us, legs sprawled as he watched with amusement.
“Sorry.” I pushed my spectacles up my nose and braced my legs, holding out my training sword.
I hadn’t been remotely interested in training today, but Wolfe had showed up at the door to my lab and hauled me out.
He refused to let me miss a session, even though I’d told him I didn’t feel well.
In the end, I gave in like I always did.
Wolfe cared about us, and he only wanted Cillian and me to train so that we’d be prepared in case of an attack.
He was doing what he thought was best for us, and I couldn’t fault him for that.
Wolfe jabbed me again, this time right between my ribs.
“Fuck,” I said.
“You’re not focusing!” Wolfe growled.
Cillian put both hands around his mouth. “Boo! If I have to sit here and watch, you could at least make this interesting.”
Wolfe shot him a glowering look. “You’re next.” He turned his attention back to me. “What’s wrong with you today?”
I glanced around the field behind the castle where we liked to spar. In our previous home, it had been rolling green hills. But now it was a marsh full of tall grass and soft ground and a lot of the flowers Enid had pointed out to me when we’d gone on our walk a week ago.
Wolfe had been ecstatic about the location, going on about how the uneven, soft soil would challenge us, help us grow.
We’d all lost the same brother, but Lor’s supposed death had affected Wolfe the most. He’d blamed himself for the longest time—until he met Niamh, and she helped heal something in him.
He no longer blamed himself for what happened to Lor, especially now that we knew our brother wasn’t dead, but he still remained vigilant about training us.
The problem was that I couldn’t stop thinking about Enid, about our date a few nights ago, about how close her lips had been to my mouth and how close I’d been to testing the boundaries of this fake relationship. I’d so badly wanted to kiss her, and I was kicking myself, wishing I had.
But I also didn’t want to cross a line.
Wolfe’s wooden sword slammed into my ass, and I flew forward and to the ground.
“Hey!” I flipped over, now on my back.
“That was brutal,” Cillian said. “Also very entertaining.”
“This is great,” another voice said, Barty and Tal landing in front of the back doors that led to the castle. “I haven’t been this entertained in a long time.” Barty’s wings folded around his body.
Perfect. We had an audience.
“Keep going.” Tal motioned. “We’re taking a break from door opening to watch you.”
“My idea,” Barty added.
“No it wasn’t,” Tal said.
Perfect. Here we went.
“Yes, it was,” Tal said.
Cillian groaned and flopped onto his back. “Of all the things the castle could make sentient, it had to be the bickering gargoyles.”
“What is the matter with you?” Wolfe asked, his huge body looming over me as the gargoyles’ arguing faded into the background. “If this was an attack, you’d be dead.”
I rolled my eyes and sat up, slinging an arm around my knee. “It’s not an attack. And if we are attacked, we have an entire royal guard to protect us, plus you. I think I’ll be okay.”
Wolfe’s eyes narrowed like he was seeing something beyond my words.
I shifted and looked away. That wasn’t normal for my older brother, who tended to shove down all his feelings and ignore everyone else’s.
But being with Niamh had changed him, and now he was peering at me with an intensity that made me want to disappear.
“What’s wrong?” Wolfe dropped down next to me. “Out with it.”
“Hey!” Barty yelled as Tal poked him with a talon. “Stop it!”
The problem with being in a fake relationship was that I couldn’t openly talk about what was wrong.
What was wrong was I wanted to kiss Enid, to do more than kiss Enid.
After she’d sat on my lap on our date, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her body, her lips, her .
. . everything. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
“Great, now they stopped sparring,” Barty said. “We came all the way here for nothing.”
“Well, it was your idea,” Tal said, opening his wings and taking off.
“No, it was yours!” Barty took off after him, both gargoyles soaring over the castle and disappearing.
“You’re distracted,” Wolfe said. “It’s not like you to be distracted.”
“Well, he is courting the most terrifying woman I’ve ever met, so maybe that has something to do with it.” Cillian raised a brow.
I threw my wooden sword at him, and he ducked just in time.
“Hey! That almost hit my nose. I have a perfectly symmetrical face, and I’d like to keep it that way.” He wiped the sweat off his brow. “By the way, how is Mr. Porter’s injury? I heard he can barely forge anything because of the terrible pain in his hand.”
I winced, rubbing the back of my neck. “That wasn’t Enid’s fault.”
“Really? Then whose plant was it that did that? I don’t know how she’s managed to hold command over this death trap of a bog, but if I do know one thing, it’s that it’s absolutely her fault.”
“Or maybe,” I said, an edge to my voice, “it’s Mr. Porter’s fault for being a complete ass.”
“Okay.” Wolfe held out his hands. “Let’s just calm down.” He shook his head at Cillian. “You’ve been really confrontational lately. I asked Nevan how he’s doing, but what about you?”
Cillian ignored our older brother, keeping his gaze locked on mine. “What are you going to do in six weeks when the town votes to exile her?” he asked. “Have you thought that through?”
Of course I had. That was the entire fucking point of this. To improve her reputation. And we were making small gains. Enid had appeared in public without incident twice now. She was gaining allies in Niamh and Ceri and possibly Myrna Carragh. She had an ally in me.
“You know, you could actually try and get to know her instead of just villainizing her all the time,” I said.
Cillian barked out a laugh. “She is a villain, and I can’t even pretend to understand what’s going on between the two of you. What a weird arrangement you have.”
I stiffened. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.” Cillian shoved a hand through his glossy hair, not even a strand out of place. “I just don’t see it. I don’t see any chemistry between you two.”
“Cillian,” Wolfe warned.
I shot to my feet. “Then maybe you need to open your fucking eyes.”
Cillian’s head snapped up. “What did you say?”
My hands balled into fists at my sides. He had no right to talk about Enid like this.
He judged her without knowing her. He wouldn’t even consider how this might feel from her perspective.
The same way he didn’t care about mine. He knew I didn’t want to be the town healer, yet he pushed it on me anyway, refusing to find someone to replace me.
“You heard me.” I jabbed a finger at my brother. “And stay away from Enid.”
“Hey, come on, you two,” Wolfe said.
“She is the one who needs to stay away.” Cillian’s cheeks were red, his chest heaving. “She needs to keep her bog in line. And if she can’t, I will put the safety of Fairwitch before your relationship. I won’t hesitate to exile her if that’s the way the voting goes.”
“We’ll see about that,” I said, red painting my vision.
“Training is over.” Wolfe jabbed a finger at the castle. “Both of you go cool down, and next time we meet, be ready to do less talking and more sparring or I will make you regret it.”
“Fine by me.” I whirled and stomped back toward the castle, thinking about how much I’d enjoy knocking Cillian on his ass right about now.