Page 5 of Godless Saints

Mikhail beamed. “He says my name a lot for someone who doesn’t know me.”

Sawyer kept his eyes forward.

The recessional bell struck once. Sharp. Final. The echo rolled through the nave before dying into silence. Bodies started moving around us. I stood.

Cillian didn’t. He captured my hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips brushed my knuckles.

I scanned the emptying hall. Masked faces filing out. No one watching.

I yanked at his grip. I’m not supposed to be seen with someone like him. I’m supposed to inherit House of Moon, my father's business, not hand Aster a reason to lose Favor because I couldn't keep my shit together around an Irish criminal. Fuck. I pulled harder. Cillian’s fingers loosened.

Sawyer slid between us before the space even opened. Shoulders squared. That dead smile stretching too wide.

“Stay away from him, Ashbourne.”

Cillian’s eyes dragged over Sawyer as if he were something stuck to his shoe. Then those emerald eyes returned to me. The corner of his mouth twitched.

“He can tell me himself,” he said.

Sawyer’s head tilted at that unnatural angle again. “He shouldn’t have to.”

Cillian ignored him. Instead, he leaned back in the pew, one finger tapping once against the wood, almost playfully. His eyes stayed locked on mine. “He should.”

A painful lump lodged, choking every sound. The silence stretched, damning me in front of both of them. Say something. Fucking say something. Nothing came.

Then he lifted two fingers in a lazy, mocking wave. “Later, prince.”

The word hit as if he’d aimed for the weakness. Heat rose. My fists clenched tightly. I stayed silent. Frozen.

While Cillian’s subtle little smirk told me he was savoring every second of my unraveling. Later wasn’t a promise. It was a fucking deadline.

One masked Patron above us barely turned his head before walking out. I walked down the aisle. Cold stone underfoot. Every step heavier than the last.

Don’t look back. Don’t give him the satisfaction. I glanced anyway.

Cillian was still watching. That same slow, crooked smile from Saint Lucia, the one that had convinced me to follow him back to his hotel room like a lovestruck idiot.

I adjusted my collar, the fabric suddenly too warm against my skin. Saint Lucia was supposed to stay buried under every rule I’d followed since I could speak.

It hadn’t.

I looked back. That was the mistake. One glance and I was already the boy from Saint Lucia again. Pulse sat too high in my throat.

The gallery was emptying. One wrong angle and someone would have seen exactly how long I held his eyes.

I should have kept walking. I should have put the entire nave between us. Instead the same stupid drop hit low and stayed there.

Legacy first.

I had already failed it in front of half the Court.

CHAPTER 2

CILLIAN

Misha shook me from behind, hands gripping my shoulders. “You walked straight across the nave during initiation, moved an Aster boy out of his own seat, stroked your fingers through Moon Hyun-seo’s hair, and whispered in his ear while every masked fuck upstairs watched.”

He jumped over the pew and sat down next to me. The side aisle was colder now that the crowd had thinned. Rain still hammered the high windows.