Page 78 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

“Just before Ophelia, Elijah, and Cillian arrived,” Ayden answers quickly. Too quickly.

My head snaps to him. “What am I missing?”

“Noth—”

“The last known attack was Lord Elijah,” Darian cuts in, leveling Ayden with a sharp look. Some silent battle passes between them.

“Quit trying to protect her, Ayden,” Darian snaps. “She’s capable of hearing this. She deserves the truth.”

“It’s my job to protect her.” Ayden sighs, exasperated. “I simply thought it better to wait until the wound wasn’t so… fresh.”

Aurelius smirks. “Take it from me, brother, keeping information from Breyla for the sake of protecting her only makes her resent you.”

Ayden looks like he wants to strangle them both.

“I am not fragile, Ayden.” I fight to keep my voice level and emotions in check. “Tell me.”

Ayden sighs, turning back to me. “I have a theory that the attack on Elijah was not a coincidence, but meant to punish you.”

“What makes you believe that?”

“Three people you care for were traveling to Prudia, and they were attacked just before crossing into the city closest to our border. I think it was meant to hurt you. Or to send a message.”

My heart nearly ceases beating in my chest at his theory. At how much it makes sense that I could be responsible for Elijah’s death. But there’s one problem.

“I’m not their target. Or… I haven’t been lately.”

“Then who is?” Aurelius asks.

I swallow, my throat tightening as I meet his gaze. With everything that happened since Darian and I pieced it together, I hadn’t gotten the opportunity to tell him.

“You,” I say, the word catching painfully in my throat. “Darian and I figured it out, but with everything that happened… I didn’t get the chance?—”

“It’s okay, Breyla,” Aurelius says calmly. “I can tell you didn’t mean to hide it from me.”

Relief floods my chest. The peace between us was something I didn’t want to risk breaking. I hadn’t meant to betray his trust, and he seems to know that.

“How did you figure it out?” Charlotte asks.

“When considering just the attacks involving poison, the pattern formed around Aurelius,” Darian explains. “The moment he joined me on the front, they followed him.”

“Assuming you are correct, why switch targets?” Lord Talon asks.

“Who says they have?” Lady Seris offers. “Princess Breyla hasn’t left the capital. Perhaps they’re both targets. Lord Aurelius has simply been more accessible.”

“I hadn’t considered that, but you’re right,” Darian agrees.

Silence settles over the table.

“You two have brought death to our kingdom,” the queen says, vitriol lacing every word.

“Might I remind you,” Aurelius drawls, “that it was not our decision to come here.”

“What’s done is done,” Ayden interjects, his tone flat with warning. “Mother, if you cannot contribute without spitting venom at my fiancée and brother, then perhaps you should find somewhere else to be.” Ayden levels her with a look that says it all. He’s as tired of her shit as the rest of us.

The queen wisely falls silent.

“Darian and Breyla will visit Prudia’s major cities,” Ayden announces. “They’ll investigate whether similar murders have been reported.”

“You just said she is a target, but you still think sending her outside the safety of the walls is wise?” Aurelius asks in disbelief.

“They will travel with extra protection,” Ayden says, clearly trying to appease him.

Darian and I scoff in unison.

“That is a command, General,” Ayden says, his eyes narrowing on us both.

“Fine,” Darian mutters. “But you know it will only slow us down.”

“So be it. That’s all for today.”

The room clears quickly until only Ayden and I remain.

I tilt my head, studying the prince. “You were rather quiet today.”

“I wanted to see how you handled it.” He pauses. “And frankly, I’m thrilled at your interest in the kingdom’s affairs.”

We exit the room, and I turn toward the guest wing.

“Where are you headed?” Ayden’s brows furrow. “I thought we were training.”

I stop, turning back to him. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of the council or your mother, but you’re overlooking a massive resource in this investigation.”

“And what is that?”

I smile coyly. “The mercenary king living under your roof.”

Ayden curses under his breath. I can’t tell if he’s frustrated that I want to talk to Cillian… or because he didn’t think of it first.

“You’re not talking to him alone,” Ayden warns.

I roll my eyes. “Cillian’s not going to hurt me.”

“It doesn’t mean I trust him.”

“Good. You shouldn’t.”

He curses again but falls into place behind me.

Cillian’s massive figure fills the doorway as he leans against the frame, looking me over with that familiar glint in his eye. “It’s good to see you, Breyla.” His teal eyes flit to Ayden. “And you, princeling.”

“I have a name,” Ayden says, irritation filling his voice.

“Congratulations,” Cillian replies with mock enthusiasm.

Ayden shoves his way into the room, a frustrated growl on his lips.

I catch the amused smirk tugging at Cillian’s mouth and realize he’s antagonizing the prince. It would appear Ayden isn’t accustomed to someone ruffling his feathers in the way he’s used to doing himself.

“Play nice,” I whisper as I shuffle past him.

Cillian closes the door, leaning in to whisper back, “You know I don’t take orders well.”

“He’s the prince and you’re in his kingdom, not mine.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He chuckles. “Everywhere is my kingdom.”

I sigh, shaking my head. There was a reason I had been attracted to this male for most of my adult life, and the devil-may-care attitude was definitely part of it.

“We need your assistance, Cillian,” I say, standing against the wall nearest Ayden.

Cillian drops into a chair in the corner, his legs spread wide in pure male arrogance. “Are we killing something or fucking something?”

“Why would you assume we need you to kill or fuck something?” Ayden retorts, already on edge.

“Princeling, there are only three reasons someone seeks my help,” Cillian says, holding up a finger. “One, they need someone dead.” He puts up a second finger, then continues, “They need to fuck, or they need me to fuck someone. It’s a win-win on that one.”

Ayden scoffs. “What’s number three?”

Cillian grins wide enough to show teeth. “My personal favorite, a little bit of both. So… which is it?”

They lock eyes, and the tension crackling in the room becomes something palpable. These two should not be left alone together. I can’t tell whether they’d end up naked or dead.

I take a leisurely stroll across the room, stopping in front of Cillian’s chair, right between his spread legs. He drags his gaze over me, but doesn’t speak as I lean down and place my hands on the armrests.

“How about reason number four?” I ask, voice low. “We need information. Your expert opinion, if you will.”

He raises his scarred brow. “And how exactly are you paying for that?”

“How does you’re staying in my kingdom, in my castle, and I’m the godsdamned prince sound?” Ayden bites back.

“Say the word and I’m gone, princeling.” Cillian’s lilt thickens, a tell-tale sign of his rising temper. “I’ve only stayed this long for Breyla.”

“Ignore him,” I tell Cillian, dragging his gaze back to me. “Answer my questions and I’ll pay twice your normal fee.”

“No.”

“No?” I ask, dumbfounded. “Then what do you want?”

Cillian smirks, his eyes flicking over my shoulder to Ayden. “I’ll answer your questions, Breyla, but I’m not interested in coin.” His voice drops lower. “I want the prince to get on his knees and ask me himself.”

Ayden bristles. “You mean you want me to beg.”

Cillian shrugs. “I prefer asking nicely. I usually reserve begging for those at the end of my sword—or my cock.”

With a sigh, I step aside, looking at Ayden. “The only way he’ll answer our questions is if you do what he’s asking.”

Ayden’s jaw ticks. “I do not beg, Breyla.”

“Is your pride worth your people’s lives?”

A long beat of silence stretches. Then, finally, Ayden grits, “Fine, but you tell no one. ”

“Understood,” I say softly. “Thank you.”

Ayden kneels slowly, several feet away from Cillian.

Cillian’s eyes spark with amusement as Ayden shifts uncomfortably, crossing and uncrossing his arms.

“Cillian, will you?—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Cillian purrs, beckoning Ayden forward with the curl of his finger. “Closer.”

With a deep growl, Ayden crawls forward until he’s nearly between Cillian’s spread knees.

“Better,” Cillian murmurs, utterly delighted. “Proceed.”

Ayden exhales a sharp breath. “Cillian, will you please answer our questions?”

Cillian pretends to consider the request for a moment, mischief practically glowing in his teal eyes. “Why yes, princeling, I will.”

Ayden starts to stand, but Cillian catches his shoulder, keeping him in place. “One more thing.”

“What?” Ayden grits out, glaring up at him.

“You look exceptional on your knees.” Cillian’s grin is slow, wicked. “Perhaps next time you’ll try my version of begging, hm?”

Ayden jerks to his feet, rage simmering just beneath his skin as Cillian bursts into raucous laughter.

“Now that we have that confusing display out of the way,” I say, stepping between them. “We have questions about a string of murders that occurred here over the last six weeks.”

“I have heard something about that,” Cillian says, shifting into a more serious posture. “Do you have any suspects?”

“None,” Ayden says tersely.

“We believe them to be related,” I explain, “but we can’t determine if it’s a vigilante or a mercenary.”

“Walk me through it. Every detail—how they were killed, where they were found, everything.”

We spend the next several minutes laying out everything we know. Cillian listens, asking sharp, efficient questions.

Once he’s satisfied, he says, “It’s difficult to say for sure without seeing the bodies and the scene for myself,” he admits. “But it sounds like a vigilante exacting their own version of justice.”

“Fantastic. How do we catch them?” Ayden asks.

“Let me look into it,” Cillian says. Then, to both our surprise, he offers, “I’ll see if I can catch them in the act.”

Ayden narrows his eyes. “And what is that going to cost me?”

“Nothing.” Cillian shrugs. “This sight of you on your knees was payment enough.”

“Fuck me,” Ayden mutters, already heading for the door. “Are we done here?”

“Unless you want to explore that begging option, then yes, we’re done here,” Cillian drawls seductively.

“Good. Let’s go, Princess,” Ayden grits, grabbing my wrist and yanking me from the room.

Cillian’s laughter follows us down the hallway, low and rich and thoroughly entertained.