“EIGHT!”
“I’m coming back,” he says. “This isn’t like the last time.”
“You can’t make me that promise.”
“SEVEN!”
“I can and I will and I am. I didn’t come back from the dead to die at the hands of that putz out there,” he says with complete confidence. “And I didn’t find you after thirteen fucking years just to lose you all over again.”
“SIX!”
I breathe in those words, trying to believe them. Trying to put all my faith in them.
“Okay?” he asks softly.
“Okay.”
“FIVE!”
He presses his lips to mine.
The world fades out for a moment. There’s only Cillian and me.
“FOUR! THREE! TWO!”
And then he releases me all at once.
I grab onto the thin wooden railing to stop from tumbling over. He gives the signal to his men to open the castle doors.
“ONE!”
Cillian turns to his brother and clasps his hand.
“Kian, I know you want to join me out there,” he says gently. “But if they breach the walls, I want you here defending everyone who can’t defend themselves.”
Kian sighs. “Look at you, manipulating me under the guise of heroism.”
“Good man,” Cillian says with a wild grin, before leaning in slightly to whisper something in Kian’s ear.
I’m too close not to hear it, though.
Protect Saoirse.
“Maybe I’ll protect Kian,” I interject defensively.
Cillian looks back over his shoulder. He gives me another lopsided grin that might have made me swoon if the circumstances were different.
Then he walks towards the door. I turn my attention to the window.
Tristan’s no longer looking up here. His focus is on the door straight ahead.
He’s got two guns in his hands, but for the moment, they’re both aimed at the ground.
A moment later, Cillian strides forward into my line of sight.
He’s out in front, of course, refusing to hide behind anyone. His men are arranged in a loose triangle formation on either side of him. Everyone looks well-armed and well-protected, but the same can be said about Tristan and his men.
Kian comes up to stand beside me.