Page 46 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“No. Not to him.” He sighed, his eyes finally finding mine again. “To the version of myself that he made for me. I spend every day trying to make it worth it, trying to make myself worthy of it.”

Clenching my jaw, I fought to find the words capable of responding to that.

“My duty is not to Raegan, not really. The gods know he doesn’t even need us. My duty is to our people, to protecting the sanctity of life. Which is why I am sorry, Olivia, that I was not there when you needed me yesterday.”

I found his hand, braced against the bed beneath him, and set mine on top of it. “Your duty to me has been fulfilled already, Killian. You were there when I needed you the most, even though I didn’t realize it.”

Whether or not he understood my meaning, I wasn’t sure. But he smiled at me, anyway.

“Are you sure you do not want me to take you back?”

“Yes.”

Not now. Not ever.

“Well, in that case, you should probably get ready.”

“Ready?” I sat upright. “Ready for what?”

“Tonight is the Beltane Ball. And of all of the things I have shown you so far, I think this might be the most magnificent.” Those dark eyes sparked as he winked at me, rising from his spot and walking slowly towards the door.

He stopped just before pulling it open, his eyes meeting mine over his shoulder. “I should warn you — Niamh is just outside this door, far too thrilled with the idea of helping you get ready.”

~

Killian was right — Niamh was waiting outside my door. The moment he opened it and tried to take a step out, she shoved at him with such earnestness that he crashed into the opposite hallway, a shit-eating-grin on his face before he shook his head and closed the door.

“I’m so glad you’re here for Beltane,” Niamh chirped as she moved through the bedroom, neither needing nor requesting permission. I groaned to myself as I pushed up and onto my feet, doing my best to smooth out my hair as she began pacing.

“I love Shea, of course I do, but having another female to go to the ball with is going to be amazing!”

“Surely there are lots of females that go to the ball?” With one eyebrow raised, I tried, and failed, not to look too closely at the massive pile of stuff within Niamh’s arms.

“Oh, there are! But the thought of trying to make friends with any of them is far too daunting.” This was coming from the pixie who I saw shoot arrow after arrow less than a day ago, who had ran to my side with a face caked in blood and wrathful fervor between her brows. “Except for you, of course. I knew the moment I saw you we would be the best of friends.”

Both of my brows shot to my hairline. When I first saw her, the only thing on my mind was that I was sure to die on the hillside of St. Michael’s Mount.

“Anyway, I’m not even sure Shea will come this year.”

“Why’s that?” Cautiously, I took small steps towards where Niamh was laying out an assortment of clothes and tools on the vanity beneath the window. Some were familiar to me; combs and hair ties and gowns not of this century, others were not.

“She’s been… sad the last few days.”

“And that’s different to her normal self, how?” I said before I could stop myself. Niamh giggled at me as she finished spreading the gowns. Taking a step back, she cocked her head to admire what she had gathered.

“Normally, Shea is all bad-attitude and permanent scowl that I keep warning her will stain her face for life. But now… Now she’s just quiet. Numb.”

“What happened?” I was only asking at this point to delay whatever Niamh had planned for me. Her eyes were wide and full of life as she scanned the room, looking for the best place for us to start.

“Aidan left her. There’s no bad blood there, from what I hear. He found his mate, you see. Unfortunately, even a relationship of several decades just cannot survive such a thing.”

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

“I know. Sixty-three years, if I recall correctly,” she huffed.

“No, not that part. The part before that,” I stammered, no longer caring that she had stopped scanning the room for a workstation and had claimed one for herself, setting stools against the vanity and panting.

“Oh, her mate. No one has told you about those?”