Chapter 11
CIARAN
"What was that about?" Rafe asks as we head down the stairs into the Undercrypt.
"What?"
He snorts and shoulders past me, grinning as the noise from the pit rises around us. "Oh, come on. Don't take me for a fucking dumbass."
I follow him down into the heat and noise, the air already thick with sweat, liquor, and blood-money adrenaline.
Rafe glances back at me. "That the guy your dad asked you to watch out for? That pretty kid with the golden hair and all those freckles?"
"Careful," I grumble.
He barks out a laugh. "That obvious, huh?"
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
We barely make it to the rail before a voice cuts across the room.
"Well, if it isn't Caervast's favorite spoiled bastard."
I turn and find Adrian slouched near the betting table, glass in one hand, already too drunk to stand straight.
Rafe mutters, "Ah. There's the headache."
Adrian lifts his drink toward me. "You lose your little pet already, Virel?"
"Oh, shit." Rafe chuckles. "He really has a death wish."
I take one step forward and flick my fingers against his chin. "You should watch your mouth."
Adrian scowls, eyes flashing. "Or what? People like you always think you're untouchable. My family learned that lesson the expensive way."
Enough people turn to look that I feel the shift in the room.
"You don't own him, Virel."
I show him more teeth. "Keep talking and we'll both find out how much patience I have."
He drains the rest of his glass and shoves it back onto the table. "Tell you what. I just lost a damn fortune because the idiot in the pit couldn't finish a clean hit, and now I've got to stand here listening to you act like you own the room."
Rafe exhales through his nose. "This should go well."
Adrian points at me. "You want to posture, fine. Get in the ring with me next time."
"Oh, that's what you want now? Next Friday. Just you and me." I tilt my head. "Unless you'd rather keep running your mouth where it's safe."
His grin flickers, but he doesn't refuse.
I take another step, close enough now that the guys nearest us go quiet. I feel like tearing his face open, just because I fucking can. And because he's been talking about Rowan in a way I don't like. If anyone gets a fucking opinion about him, it's me. "Unless you want to take back what you said."
Too many people are watching for me to say the rest. But Adrian hears it anyway, and fuck me, I like the way his face tightens. Backing down now would follow him for weeks, and we both know it.
"Yeah?" he says, trying—and failing—to get the swagger back into his voice. "Fine."
"Good. Then we have a deal." I glance at the crowd gathering around us. "Well, ladies and gents, this should be entertaining."
And I'll make sure Rowan's there to watch the show, but I don't tell Adrian that.
Leaning in just enough to make him feel it, I murmur, "And if you mention him again before then, I won't wait for the pit."
For the first time all night, he looks sober.
Rafe whistles low. "Well. That's one way to ruin a man's week."
"Or cheer one up, depending on how you look at it." I clap Adrian on the shoulder, hard enough to make the point, then turn away and grab my helmet. "Anyway, I'm leaving."
Rafe follows me with a baffled look. "What? Dude, you just got here."
"I know. But Adrian here made me realize there's somewhere I've got to be."
Marius lifts a brow. "Well, that's new." I cut him a look, but he smiles into his drink. "Didn't know you could move that fast for anyone."
Lucan snorts. "Go on, then. Don't keep your boyfriend waiting."
"Shut up." I throw him my middle finger over my shoulder, already grinning as I head for the stairs.
That's right. Just like that, I'm in a great fucking mood.
By the time I'm back at Caervast, night has settled across the campus. I park outside the natatorium, pulling off my helmet and carrying it loose in one hand as I head for the pool.
The corridors are quiet at this hour. Empty enough to feel private.
The pool door opens on humid air and soft blue light, the high glass panels above the water reflecting a thin scatter of stars that ripple with every shift of the surface.
I'm already pulling my shirt over my head before the door shuts behind me, the memory of last night hitting so hard my jaw tightens.
Rowan's mouth. Him going rigid in my arms and then kissing me back anyway. I've been hard ever since I left the Undercrypt. The only thing worse than the ache is how much I want it again.
I strip down to my swim trunks, cross the tile, and toss my clothes onto the bench without looking, my eyes already on the water.
But he isn't there.
I frown, slowing at the edge of the pool.
He should be here by now.
I wonder if last night rattled him more than I thought.
The memory of those soft lips flashes hot through me, Rowan kissing me back like he hated himself for it. Something dark and satisfied twists through my chest before I can stop it.
I'm still looking at the water when I hear it.
A sharp slap of bare feet skids over wet tile behind me, and I barely have time to turn before Rowan crashes into me hard enough to make my shoulder jolt.
"What the fuck? That's one hell of a welcome," I grunt as I stumble back a step.
He shoves me again, his whole body wired with fury.
"Welcome? You're an asshole and I don't want you here."
He means to force me back, maybe straight into the deep end, but my heel clips the slick edge and I feel the drop start behind me.
Something mean flashes through me.
I catch his wrist and throw my other arm around his waist, hauling him in tight before he can pull free.
"What are you—" His eyes go wide.
Then both of us lose the fight with gravity and the water closes over us.
We hit the deep end in a tangle of limbs, bubbles exploding around us. Rowan kicks instantly, his knee catching my thigh as he tries to wrench himself free. I don't let go.
We break the surface chest to chest, gasping and splashing. Rowan is glaring at me, face flushed red, wet hair hanging into his eyes. He looks fucking delicious.
"You really missed me, little mouse."
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he spits, coughing as he tries to shove me back. His hands are shaking against my skin. "I told you to stay away. You don't get to keep following me."
I steady us both with a kick, my hand still locked on his waist under the surface, and grin. "If you wanted me in the pool, all you had to do was ask."
"I want you gone," he whispers, and somehow that lands harder. Not enough to make me loosen my grip. Then he twists in my hold and lunges for the ladder, forcing me to move first.
I drive him backward until his spine hits the tiled edge of the pool. The water makes everything slippery, skin sliding against skin as he fights for purchase, but I pin him there anyway, one hand braced beside his head and the other locked on his hip to keep him from slipping away.
"Funny way of showing it."
"You don't know what you're talking about," he bites out.
"No?"
Rowan twists hard in my hold, slipping against me as the water shifts, and for a second I almost lose him. Then he wrenches free, dragging out of my grip with a sharp, uneven breath, though there's nowhere to go with the pool wall at his back.
He is trembling, and I bet you it's not just from the cold. Looking up at me, he tries to snarl, but the heat in his face and the uneven catch of his breath give him away.
"Liar." I lean in until our foreheads touch, my thumb brushing his hip beneath the water. "Go on. Say it again."
Rowan's jaw tightens. "I want you gone."
He says it like a challenge.
A laugh slips out of me, and damn, do I love a challenge.
He twists in my grip, trying to turn away, but I don't give him time to retort. Instead, I take his mouth first.
This time, there's no lead-up. Just the brutal clash of teeth and the wet, frantic slide of our lips. He tastes like heat and something sharp, like he's biting it back even now. His lips fight me for a second, then falter.
He jerks in my hold and wrenches his face aside, a soft strangled sound slipping out of him. Nuh-uh, that's not going to happen. So I catch his jaw and press my thumb at the hinge while angling him back where I want him.
"Look at you," I rasp against his lips. "Still fighting me with one hand while the rest of you gives up."
He doesn't shove me off again, hands flying to my shoulders instead, fingers digging into my skin.
Then something in him finally gives, and he kisses me back like he can't stop.
"You don't get to do this," Rowan snarls.
Then he shoves me hard enough to break the kiss.
Fuck me, that ain't going to happen. And just like that, my self-control is gone.
I lick into him with curiosity and hunger, nipping at his lower lip and dragging it between my teeth until he gasps into my mouth.
My hand slides down his bare side, over slick skin and the hard line of his ribs.
When I hook a thumb into the waistband of his trunks, he jerks, and that too is addictive.
"Oh no? Your mouth may protest, but your body is happy." Then I drag my palm over him through the soaked fabric, loving how his cock kicks against my hand, already thick and hot.
The second I close my hand around his erection, Rowan breaks the kiss with a sound that feels torn out of him. "Ciaran," he gasps.
"Nah. Keep lying with your mouth, but I can feel the truth. It's thrumming right here against my palm."
His hands clutch my shoulders, but he still doesn't pull away. Instead, he rocks into my grip with a broken sound, moving before he can stop himself.
I hook my leg between his and force his thighs apart beneath the water, leaving nowhere for that heat to go. I slide my hand to the back of his neck, flatten my palm against his wet skin, and tip his head back, exposing the line of his throat before returning to his mouth.
"I love the sounds you make for me, little mouse," I murmur against the seam of his lips. "Let me hear you."