Page 91 of Godless Saints

He kissed me back for one second… and shoved me off. He still looked at me like leaving was an option.

My phone rang. Aleksei.

I answered mid-throw. “What?”

“Get to the ball. Now.”

I sat up fast. “Why?”

“Declan has the Writ now.” Aleksei’s voice was tight. “Black Chalice opened the Writ fully after your little public performance. He panicked. Called his brother.”

My shoulders went rigid. “The fuck do you mean he has it?”

“He realized Moon is leverage against you now,” Aleksei snapped. “Vivienne’s trying to contain the narrative, but after that kiss—”

I frowned hard. “Vivienne?”

“…Moon’s Vivienne?” I asked slowly.

Wait.

I straightened fully. “Are you fucking her?”

“Cillian—”

“Does Moon know you’re fucking his intimidating little political attack dog?”

“Not important right now.”

“The fuck it isn’t.”

Aleksei exhaled sharply.

“Fuck.”

Cold slid down my spine.

“What?”

“Ronan.”

Every muscle in my body locked. Ronan Carrick. Declan was a school bully. Ronan was the Carrick heir who didn’t play academy games. He ended things. Permanently.

I shoved up, grabbed my keys, helmet, jacket. Shouldered the door open and took the stairs three at a time.

I walked away first.

“Cillian. Get here right now.”

I was already swinging my leg over the bike. “On my way.” I hung up.

The ride was brutal. Cold wind sliced through leather. Engine roared under me. All I could see was Moon, with Ronan circling. I tore up the drive, killed the engine, and stormed into the hall, snow melting in my hair, no fucking tux. Crystal chandeliers. Marble floor already sticky with spilled champagne. Heads turned. Whispers cut.

Then I saw him. Moon on the dance floor with her. Zara King. She looked like a princess. She kissed his cheek. He smiled down at her, everything he never gave me in public.

My blood ignited. I shoved through the crowd. People parted. Someone muttered “Thorn brute.” I didn’t care. I stepped right onto the dance floor and between them, shoulder checking the space until Zara had to step back.

“You’re not his real girlfriend,” I said, “so fuck off.”