Cilian didn’t answer immediately. He leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief second as a wave of pain rolled through him.

The light from the chandelier above caught the sweat on his forehead, making him look fragile for a split second, though that fox-like smile remained fixed on his pale lips.

"Did I know?" Cilian repeated. He opened his eyes, and the glint in them was light and dismissive. "Ren, darling, I didn’t care about it. That little book didn’t matter to me at all."

Ren felt a surge of hot, bitter disbelief. He stared at Cilian, his eyes wide.

"You didn’t care? Cilian, you butchered my family in one night. You wiped us out. You expect me to believe you did all that, and you didn’t even care about the one thing that could control the entire Syndicate? How long do you think you can lie to me?"

Cilian’s smile faltered a bit as he declared,

"I have never lied to you, Cilian." He said, but Ren looked him in the eye and said,

"Even I know that is a lie," he hissed, his tongue dripping with hate and venom.

Cilian searched Ren’s face. He had no plans on believing him, no matter what he said. Now, wasn’t that disturbing?

But he acted like it didn’t matter and let out a soft, airy chuckle that turned into a hiss of pain as he shifted his shoulder. He reached out with his good hand, his fingers tracing the line of Ren’s jaw with a feather-light touch. Ren wanted to flinch, but he stayed still, trapped by the intensity in Cilian’s gaze.

"I didn’t need a ledger to take over this city, Ren," Cilian whispered, his voice vibrating with a dark, terrifying honesty. "I did that with my own hands. I didn’t kill your father for his secrets or his codes. I killed him because..." He paused, saying no more, and Ren noticed this.

Why did he stop? Keep talking. Tell me the reason. Just tell me... please. Ren screamed in his head, looking into Cilian’s dark gaze and demanding for answers, but Cilian refused to breathe another word, as if his tongue was tied, and he released Ren’s chin.

"Well, that ledger has nothing to do with me," he said,

Ren felt sick, he was curious, and he was dying to know. Why did Cilian butcher his family?

Seeing how he refused to finish his sentence, Ren felt Cilian would never tell him the reason, even though he asked.

"Anyway," Cilian hummed, his expression turning thoughtful. "Now that I know the Mordecais are willing to put a bullet in you and me for that ghost story... It seems the game has changed. If they believe you are the key to that stupid book, they will never stop coming for you."

He pulled Ren closer, his hand sliding to the back of Ren’s neck, forcing their foreheads to touch. Ren could smell the frost of the Alpha’s pheromones and the smell of the fresh blood on Cilian’s bandages.

"Which means," Cilian whispered, his voice a melodic command. "I can never let you out of my sight. Not for a walk, not for a breath of air. Nothing. You are going to stay right here, in my house. For your own safety, of course."

How was that any different from what he had been doing up till now? Ren thought.

Ren looked at the blood on Cilian’s tattered shirt—the decoration he had made with his own knife—and felt as if the walls of the mansion were closing in. If the world believed he held the ledger, he was a marked man. And Cilian was more than happy to use that fear to keep him chained.

"I don’t have it," Ren said, his voice slightly trembling. "I didn’t even know it was real until today."

"I know," Cilian smiled, sounding almost drunk from the pain and the proximity. "But as long as the vampires think you do, you’re the most dangerous person in the city. And I’ve always had a weakness for dangerous things," he cackled, but then he suddenly winced, like someone had pressed on his wound, his body slumping more heavily against the wall.

The adrenaline was gone, leaving him grey and exhausted.

"Help me to the bed, Ren," Cilian commanded softly. "I’ve played enough for one day."

Ren didn’t fight him. At first, he stared at Cilian’s state, seeing how he looked so vulnerable, and thought this was the perfect chance to get his revenge.

But it wasn’t so simple anymore. There were just too many variables with how he was now a marked man because of a ledger he didn’t even know was real, not knowing the location Toby was in, and the reason why Cilian destroyed his family.

If there was an accomplice or a whistleblower, he would very much like to know who they were so that he could get rid of them as well, leaving no one involved intact.

So, for the moment, as much as he hated it, he needed this man alive.

Ren put his arm around Cilian’s waist, supporting the man as they walked toward the master suite.

The hallway was bright with the midday sun streaming through the high windows, but for Ren, the world felt like it was narrowing into a dark, suffocating tunnel. Supporting Cilian’s weight, he felt the heat of the Alpha’s fever already beginning to rise.

Every step they took toward the master suite felt like Ren was dragging himself deeper into a grave he had helped dig.

As they entered the room, the smell of antiseptic and old blood still hung in the air from the surgery. Cilian leaned heavily on him, his breath hitching as he finally sat on the edge of the large bed. He looked wrecked, his skin the color of ash, but those fox-like eyes remained fixed on Ren, tracking his every move with a dazed, terrifying hunger.

"You’re so strong, Ren," Cilian hummed, his voice barely a whisper as he allowed Ren to help him lie back against the pillows. "Even when you hate me, you’re so... reliable."

Ren didn’t respond. He simply pulled the heavy duvet over Cilian, his jaw clenched as he fought the urge to hit Cilian. He just wanted to be done with this and walk out.

"Rest," Ren said shortly, turning to walk away. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

"Where are you going?" Cilian’s good hand shot out, grabbing Ren’s wrist. His grip was clammy, but the desperation behind it was undeniable.

"To wash the blood off my hands, Cilian. Your blood."