His long assessment continued in an uncomfortable silence, while I suspected he searched for a snarky way to decline.
“Why would I do that?” he asked with cynical interest.
“Because I asked? A favor. Please.”
After a brief moment, he repeated the wordfavorseveral times as if it was his first time hearing it, when clearly I’d asked for several already. Which may have been his point.
“You don’t have magic, so how could a translation be any use to you?”
“For Amelia?”
His brows furrowed. His darkened eyes displayed a dubious look that managed to both annoy and intrigue me. I held his eyes, anticipating his response.
“She doesn’t have magic anymore,” he eventually said.
“Exactly, to right a wrong. To help you restore balance and satisfy an issue you had. Doesn’t she deserve that little reward?”
“Saving her life left her indebted to me. It has been cleared.”
“No, it left me indebted to you. But if I’m not mistaken, you said I wouldn’t be any good to you if she died. Seems like we’re even.”
His long steps placed him directly in front of me. Taking one of my hands, he laced his fingers through mine, staring at it as the binding mark pulsed to life. Not painful, just a reminder of the link. “But you would still have to fulfill your obligation. In fact, you are indebted to me. How do you plan to clear it?” His voice had dropped to a low, husky rumble.
“Why does your question sound filthy?”
He leaned down, his lips lightly coasting over mine. “Because you want it to be,” he teased. His eyes dropped to my breasts, and I was thankful for the layers of folds that hid my hardened nipples. Releasing my hand, his finger stroked over my cheek, which had to feel warm to his touch. My darker skin hid the blush but not the heat that bloomed over my face. Before I could respond, come up with a rebuttal, he’d sauntered back to the console, once again my gifts from William consuming his attention.
Cirrian took his eyes off the items on the console and looked at the door seconds before it rang. I was about to ignore it—when William called my name. He knew I was home.
Cirrian placed a finger to his lips as a reminder that the specifics of the contract had been extended to only Amelia. He seemed to have an exceptional disdain for William knowing about it.
On edge, I braced for the inevitable conversation. My brain was cataloging all the ways my conversation with William would end in disaster. Heart pounding and warmth drained from my fingers, I turned the chilly doorknob.
“You’re good?”
It didn’t feel like a question about my well-being but a temperature check regarding my relationship with the House of Knight after they’d declined to help me.
“I’m good. And Amelia is fine.” His eyes widened with surprise. “The House of Knight declining was a practicaldecision. I can’t demand reason from you all and resent it when you practice it.” The sting of disappointment remained, but it would eventually ease.
With a small smile, I stepped aside to give him room to enter. He paused by the side chairs and inhaled the air, then tossed a look in my direction. I wondered if he’d whiffed scents of Cirrian. When his eyes trailed over the room, mine followed. Cirrian was again preoccupied by William’s gifts but was not touching them.
Handing me a wide box, William said, “Practical or not, it left you in a precarious situation. Please accept this as an apology.”
“This is unnecessary,” I protested quietly, but his earnest expression made it difficult to decline. And William gave exceptional gifts. Nothing that was flashy or looked as if he put more money than thought into it. They always seemed curated with me in mind. Opening the lid, I saw a bracelet made of an unfamiliar stone, polished to a brilliant black and shaped into flat, square segments etched with delicate patterns and linked by copper connectors. I couldn’t make out the designs in the stone or determine if it was ornate or held some significance. The artistry made the bracelet striking.
“It’s beautiful.” The descriptor wasn’t quite right. It had a simplistic, luxurious look. “What type of stone is this?”
“Hematite,” he said, placing the box on the table next to us. “It’s for protection.” His brittle smile showed guilt. I couldn’t determine if it was from their declining to help me save Amelia or holding himself responsible for not preventing the attack in the first place.
“Thank you.” I unclasped the bracelet, and Cirrian slid closer, intently watching as I placed it on my wrist. It was a snug fit, and a section of the bracelet that needed to be smoothed more bit into my skin.
Before I could show it to William, the jewelry pulsed. An electric jolt raced up my arm, convulsing through me. A shrill sound filled my ears as warmth drained from my body. My body was an ice block. My breathing was rapid clips.
With trembling fingers, I managed to unclasp the bracelet and fling it aside. Cirrian’s hand shot out to catch it before it hit the floor. The shimmering cloak disappeared, and he revealed himself to William, who took a step back, his lips drawing back to reveal his fangs. I’d gathered my composure and blinked back the tears blurring my vision to find William pushing himself from the dent his body had made in the drywall. Judging from the scowl on Cirrian’s face, William smashing into the wall was a consequence of his anger.
Cirrian held the bracelet in one hand and used the other to press William back into the wall.
“Tell her what you’ve been doing to her,” Cirrian demanded through gritted teeth.
