Chapter 207: Sticky situation
MADELINE
The word hung there. Simple and direct.
My heart kicked against my ribs.
I kept my expression neutral. Kept my voice steady. "What about us?"
He stepped closer. Not too close but enough that I had to tilt my head slightly to maintain eye contact.
"I need to know sothing," he said. "And I need you to be honest with ."
"I am always honest with you, Cian."
"Are you?"
The question landed like a stone dropping into still water. The ripples spread out between us.
I felt sothing cold settle in my chest. "What are you asking , Cian?"
"I am asking if there is anything you are not telling ." His eyes searched mine. "Anything I should know about why you are really here."
My throat tightened. "I am here because I helped your mother. Because I had nowhere else to go. You know this."
"I know what you have told ."
"And you think I am lying?"
"I think—" He stopped and he ran a hand through his hair. "I think there are things that do not add up."
"Like what?"
"Like how convenient it is that you got excommunicated right when staying here beca complicated." His voice was still calm but there was an edge to it now. Sharp. Cutting. "Like how your father, who holds imnse power, just let this happen without a fight."
My pulse hamred in my ears. "You think I orchestrated my own exile?"
"Did you?"
"No." The word ca out firm. Clear. "I did not."
He watched . His gaze was intense. Searching for cracks. For tells.
I held it. Did not look away. Did not blink.
"Cian." I kept my voice soft. "I understand your mother and Fia probably feel uncomfortable with
being here. I understand that this situation is complicated. But I did not plan for any of this to happen the way it did."
"Then help
understand." He took another step closer. "Help
understand why your coven would go this far. Why your father would allow it. Why any of this makes sense."
"Because magic has rules." I spread my hands slightly. "Because covens have laws that even the father supre cannot break. Because I interfered in your pack business when I was told not to." My voice rose just a fraction. "Because I chose to help you and your family over my own people. That is why."
He was quiet.
The afternoon breeze picked up. It rustled through the trees nearby. Carried the scent of pine and earth.
"I want to believe you," he said finally.
"But you do not."
"I did not say that."
"You did not have to."
His jaw worked. Like he was chewing on words he was not ready to say yet.
I took a breath. Let it out slowly. "If you want
to leave, I will leave. You do not have to give
a place to stay. I will figure sothing out."
"That is not what I want."
"Then what do you want?"
"I want the truth."
"I gave you the truth."
"Did you?"
We were going in circles now. The sa questions. The sa answers. Neither of us backing down.
I felt tired suddenly. Bone deep tired.
"I cannot make you trust , Cian." My voice ca out quieter than I intended. "If you have already decided I am playing so kind of ga then nothing I say will change your mind. I feel so disgusting right now even. What would even make you think this way of ? No wonder your mom had that sick thought of . I am not that in love with you... You arrogant prick!"
I turned away from him.
Enough to signal that I was done standing there and letting his doubt sit on my skin like gri. My foot barely cleared the stone when his hand closed around my wrist.
I sucked in a sharp breath. "Let
go."
He did not.
"Madeline."
"I said let
go." I twisted, anger flaring hot and sudden, a spike through the exhaustion. "You do not get to hold
in place while you tear
apart."
His grip tightened. Like he was afraid that if he loosened it even a little I would disappear into the dark of the drive and never look back.
"I am sorry," he said, and his voice was low now, stripped of its edge. "If it sounds that way. I am not asking these questions because I still believe you are in love with ."
I laughed. "That is generous of you."
"That is not what I ant." He stepped closer, forcing
to face him, the foyer lights catching the planes of his face. "There is this belief. From everyone. That you still have sothing for .That I still have sothing for you. And apparently, it makes
treat you like an enemy in my head. Like I need to stay clear of you to protect myself and protect my mate."
My chest ached when he said that. I hated the way I had been reduced.
I looked up at him, and I knew my eyes were glassy because the world had started to blur at the edges. "Maybe they are right."
The words tasted wrong the mont they left my mouth. Bitter even.
His hand fell away from my wrist as if I had burned him.
"No," he said imdiately. Too fast. "They are not."
I folded my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the sumr night. "You seem very confident for soone who has spent the last ten minutes interrogating ."
He did not rise to it. His gaze had gone distant, unfocused, like he was listening to sothing I could not hear.
"I know you," he said quietly. "I knew you. And I know what your magic slls like."
The words landed wrong.
My breath hitched. "What are you even talking about?"
His jaw tightened. His eyes flicked over my face, my hands, my throat, as if he was searching for sothing that refused to show itself.
Then he stepped back and fully let
go.
The space between us yawned open, heavy and charged.
"Maybe it is madness," he said, more to himself than to . "Maybe Ronan was right. Maybe this is just cognitive dissonance."
My heart began to pound. "What are you talking about, Cian?"
"I was going to watch you," he admitted. His mouth curved in sothing like self-disgust. "Just watch you act. Let you exist here until you slipped. Until I could tell myself I was right to be wary."
My stomach twisted.
"But I cannot," he went on, lifting his gaze back to mine. There was sothing raw in it now. Sothing stripped bare. "Not on my honor. Or yours. You do not deserve this kind of suspicion."
Suspicion....
The word echoed in my skull.
My voice ca out thin. "Suspicion?"
He hesitated.
For half a heartbeat, I thought he might lie. That he might soften it, reshape it into sothing easier to swallow.
He did not.
"You think I did sothing," I said slowly.
His silence was an answer all its own.
"You think I did sothing," I repeated, louder now, disbelief cracking through the exhaustion. "You dragged
here, questioned , looked at
like I was sothing dirty under your boot, because you think I am capable of what, exactly?"
His eyes t mine.
"I thought you killed that witch."
The world tilted and cold spread through my veins, starting at my chest and radiating outward, like ice water poured directly into my blood. My fingers went numb. My mouth felt dry.
"What... are you taking about?"
"Mads, did you kill Ophelia?"
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