“What are you doing out here?” I asked.
“Going to the library. What are you doing?”
Following you. Stalking you like some pathetic drunk who can’t accept that he threw away the best thing in his life.
“Making sure you’re all right.”
Her laugh was sharp. “Now, you care about making sure I’m all right?”
The accusation landed true. I stepped closer. She stepped back.
“Don’t.” Her voice carried a warning.
I should’ve listened.
11
NIGHTINGALE
No matter how many times I turned over or punched the pillow, I wasn’t able to sleep.
Eventually, I threw the covers off and put a jumper on over my tank top, planning to visit the library and get some work done.
As I headed downstairs, I thought about how quiet the castle was now that the rest of the team had left. I even assumed that other than me, and probably Tag, everyone else was asleep.
As soon as I reached the alcove near the library entrance, I heard a footstep, then my name.
“Leila.”
I spun around when Tag emerged from the shadows. The smell of whiskey hit me first—sharp and peaty, clinging to him like he’d bathed in it rather than just drunk it. His movements were too measured, deliberate in the way of someone trying very hard not to appear drunk, and his eyes struggled to focus on my face.
“What are you doing out here?” His words weren’t slurred, but the edges were soft.
“Going to the library. What are you doing?”
He moved closer, cutting off my path to the library entrance. “Making sure you’re all right.”
“Don’t,” I whispered, taking a step away.
His hand caught my wrist when he reached for me before I could skirt around him. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About him.”
“Him?”
“Vanguard.” The name came out rough, almost accusatory, like I’d done something wrong by sitting next to the man at dinner. “The way he looked at you. The way you smiled at him.”
I tried to pull away, but his grip tightened—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep me where I was. “Tag, let go.”
“You can’t.” His other hand found my waist, and he pressed me against the cold stone wall, trapping me in the alcove. “Not with him.”
“Please—”
“You’re mine.” His face was close enough to feel his hot breath against my skin. “You’ve always been mine.”
The words I’d longed to hear before we left Dunravin were unwanted now.
“I know I said we couldn’t.” His fingers splayed on my hip. “I know I told you we didn’t have a future. But you can’t just…not Vanguard.”
He leaned in to kiss me, and I so wanted to close that last inch between us and pretend he hadn’t shattered me into pieces I was still trying to gather up.