Page 86 of Godless Saints

“Focus, boys.” Vivienne clapped her hands once, sharp as a gavel. “Fix it. Or the Seat slips away and you’ll watch someone far less compromised take what should have been yours.”

Vivienne’s phone lit up. She read the message, expression unchanged.

“Eloise says Ashbourne tried to give her a note for you.”

Sawyer perked up. “A note? Christ, that’s deliciously pathetic. I’m living for this.”

“She refused it.”

I wanted that note more than oxygen.

Vivienne studied me. “Ignore him. Completely. Or do us all a favor and stop pretending you’re still fit for the Seat.”

“I intended to.”

Sawyer grinned. “Sure you are.”

Voices rose outside the tea room.

“Sir, you can’t be here.”

“Stop.”

“This is Aster property.”

I forced my hand still.

The door slammed open.

Cillian filled the doorway. Eyes locked on me. The rest of the room didn’t exist.

Sawyer froze. “Oh, what the fuck.”

Vivienne stood instantly. “Mr. Ashbourne. Leave our Court at once.”

I stood too fast. Chair scraping. Porcelain rattling.

“Cillian?”

He crossed the space in three strides. Vivienne tried to block him. Pointless. His hands clamped around my face, rough, thumbs pressing into my jaw. His mouth crashed into mine hard. For one treacherous heartbeat my lips parted, tongue meeting his before shame slammed into me.

I shoved him hard in the chest. “What the fuck, Cillian?”

He let me push him away, but only far enough to drag his thumb across my bottom lip, eyes black with satisfaction. His words carried across the room.

“You’re fucking mine, Moonshine. And I’m done pretending otherwise.”

Moonshine.

He pulled back, turned toward the silent crowd with that ruined, arrogant smile, and spread his hands like a man confessing in church. “I tried,” he announced, loud and unashamed. Then he pointed straight at me. “I fucking tried. But he’s irresistible.”

Silence slammed down. Every eye shifted to me at once. Cillian’s grin sharpened as he started walking backward through the crowd, eyes still locked on mine the entire time.

“Worth it,” he called out. “Every single fucking time, prince.”

He turned and pushed through the doors, still smiling like he’d just won the war. I had no idea how to fix this.

The door shut behind Cillian, but the damage stayed. Then the whispers started creeping through the Aster tea room.