Page 18 of Ruling Destiny

And yet, I’m the only one who seems bothered. Killian doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks.

“Now tell me—” He comes to a sudden stop. “What’s your favorite place on this rock? And, just a heads-up, there are no right answers, only wrong ones.”

Deciding to play along, I make an exaggerated version of a thinking face—eyes squinted, finger pressed to my chin, as I stare into some unknown horizon. “Let’s see…that would probably be a tie between the Moon Garden and the Glass Room,” I say, though the second it’s out I’m overcome with regret.

The Moon Garden is where Braxton and I almost shared our first kiss. It’s also where he confided in me about what really happens here at Gray Wolf.

The Glass Room is where that first kiss finally happened—a kiss so glorious, just thinking about it makes my cheeks flush.

I should’ve just shrugged it off, pretended I couldn’t possibly choose among all the awesomeness. The Moon Garden and the Glass Room are solely for Braxton and me. Which means I definitely don’t want to visit either of those places with Killian.

“You really outdid yourself, Shiv,” Killian says. “I was only expecting one wrong answer, but you showed up with two. And judging by the looks of it, they really are your favorites. Just thinkin’ about ’em has put a bloom in yer cheeks.” He gestures toward my face, which only makes me flush even more fiercely.

“So what is the right answer?” I ask, torn between being amused and annoyed—the usual emotional circuit when dealing with this boy.

Killian grins, and while I can objectively agree that it’s an all-out heart-melter, it has zero effect on me. “Today,” he says, stopping before an elevator and pushing the call button. “You’re about to add a new favorite place to your list.”

“That’s a pretty big buildup,” I say. “You sure you’re not overselling it?”

“That’s for you to decide.” He shrugs. “But first, we need to get there. And it’s a wee bit o’ a journey, I warn ya.” He’s back to speaking in accents again, and I’m about to call him out on it when the elevator doors slide open and Killian ushers me inside.

Straightaway we’re descending so quickly, I’m reminded of the time I visited the Vault with Arthur, though I’m sure that’s not where we’re heading now. When the car does finally stop, the doors slide open and I step into a space so plain, so dreary and austere, for a moment I wonder if we might’ve somehow left Gray Wolf.

I mean, clearly we’re still on the rock, since the only two ways out of this place are by time travel or a terrifying ride through treacherous waters. And yet, there’s no denying that with one quick elevator ride, we’ve managed to leave our luxurious, snow globe–like world far behind, only to arrive in a space that would best be described as industrial gloom.

The ceiling is claustrophobically low. The floor is made of the same cement as the walls. And it looks like some sort of weird indoor parking garage.

“Well, this is…” I look all around, trying to summon just the right word. There’s not a single work of art, no elaborate crystal chandeliers, no expensive wall treatments to be found. Just miles of cold, gray cement harshly lit by fluorescent lights.

“Surprising?” Killian suggests.

I shake my head. “I was thinking more likebleak. But yeah, surprising works, too. Either way, it seems like an odd place to grab a coffee.”

But not such an odd place to stash a body.

The thought comes at me from out of nowhere. And despite the warmth of my parka, a shiver courses right through me.

It’s fine. You’re fine, I struggle to convince myself.You’re just triggered. You’re in a confined, unfamiliar space with a boy you don’t really know all that well. It’s a loss of control. Nothing more. Just breathe your way back to comfort and peace, like Dr. Lucy said.

But, while I’m busy slowing my breaths, my mind continues to unspool a ribbon of thoughts so alarming I’m filled with regret for agreeing to this.

For one thing, not only does Braxton hate Killian, but I can’t even count how many times he’s warned me to steer clear of him.

And there’s no denying how pretty much everyone else on this rock goes out of their way to avoid him.

Everyone but me, apparently.

I steal a glance at Killian. Surely I’m being irrational.

I mean, Killian is my friend.

He helped me out of a terrible jam.

And yet, he also murdered a man—a Timekeeper back in Versailles. He plunged a blade right through his belly and left him to die. And according to him, it wasn’t the first time.

Doesn’t matter that I still don’t know what a Timekeeper is. What I do know is that Killian failed to show even the slightest hint of remorse over ending his life.

Also, isn’t it odd that we’ve traveled all this way without running into a single other person?

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