Page 13 of Something Worth Keeping
“You missed the meeting.”
Thorn’s voice cut through the darkness. The ancient leader stood in the doorway to the main hall, arms crossed, his massive frame blocking the light from within. He looked exhausted, as he always did, but his eyes were sharp.
“I was occupied.” Cillian’s form rippled, his shadows sliding over his skin like oil. He couldn’t quite settle into full solidity, not when everyparticle of his being wanted to return to that fourth-floor apartment.
“For three days?”
“Yes.”
Thorn’s jaw tightened. “We had Vane Syndicate activity in the north district. Rook tracked two dealers to a safe house. We needed…”
“You could cope. I found my beacon.”
The words dropped into the space between them like stones into still water. Thorn went very, very still.
“Your what?”
“My fated mate.” Cillian finally managed to condense into something resembling his human form, though his eyes remained pure void. “A human. His name is Julian Purdy. He’s an archivist. He has an eidetic memory and no social filter. He gave me advice on body disposal, then spent hours researching Guardians.Julian touched my shadows, Thorn. Hetouchedthem.”
Thorn’s expression shifted through several emotions too quickly for Cillian to track. Surprise. Concern. Something that might have been joy, buried deep. “A beacon. You’re certain?”
“I’ve existed for millennia. I know what recognition feels like.” Cillian’s shadows were already restless, eager to get back. “Every particle of my essence screams that he is mine. That I am his. That I should wrap him in darkness and never let another living thing near him.”
“Tell me you haven’t.”
“No, I haven’t.” Cillian left the “not yet” unsaid. He forced himself to remain still, to not immediately dissolve back into shadow and rush to Julian’s window. “He asked for clear communication. For protocols. Hewants to understand what happens next.”
Thorn was quiet for a long moment. Then he moved into the corridor, and Cillian saw it - the faint softening around his eyes that the ancient warrior so rarely showed. “This is significant, Cillian. A beacon bond is...” he paused. “It’s everything. But you need to understand that humans don’t operate on our timescale. You can’t simply claim him.”
“I know that.” Cillian’s form flickered with frustration. “I’ve been watching him for three days. Learning his patterns. He eats toast at 7:15 a.m. He checks his emails exactly four times per day. He talks to his succulent, and I believe he calls it ‘Gerald’ for some reason. He’s perfect, but I don’t understand human courtship. I already brought him a stolen book and his supervisor’s wallet…”
“You brought himwhat?”
“She suspended him unfairly. I corrected the imbalance.”
Thorn pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “Cillian. Listen to me carefully. You haven’t walked among humans as a human in... how long?”
Cillian considered. “Eighty-three years. Perhaps ninety.”
“Exactly. You’re not used to human protocols. Their social rules. The things they consider normal versus the things that terrify them.” Thorn stepped closer, and his voice gentled. “If you want to court this human properly, you need to approach him as a human would. Not as a shadow that steals things and appears in his bedroom while he sleeps.”
“I didn’t appear in his bedroom. I simply...observed. And I did move him to his bed once, but he wassleeping in a chair, which had to be uncomfortable. I left a token for him to find.”
“Cillian.”
The weight in Thorn’s voice made Cillian’s shadows curl inward. “What do you suggest?”
“A normal meeting. In a public place. During daylight hours.” Thorn’s mouth quirked. “Coffee shops are traditional. You sit. You talk. You don’t mention that you’ve been watching him through his window or that you can taste the light of his soul.”
“That seems inefficient.”
“That’s called dating.” Thorn clapped a hand on Cillian’s shoulder, and Cillian felt the warmth of it, the steady anchor of the only family he’d known for centuries. “I’m happy for you. Truly. But you need to make a real effort to appear normal, or you’llscare him away before the bond can settle.”
Cillian thought of Julian’s calm voice in the alley. His matter-of-fact acceptance of shadow and death. His fingers reaching toward the darkness without fear. “I don’t think he frightens easily.”
“Maybe not. But there’s a difference between accepting that shadows exist and wanting to build a life with one.” Thorn squeezed his shoulder once, then released him. “Give him the choice. Approach him like a human. Let him see you can be both.”
Cillian nodded slowly. It made sense, even if every instinct screamed to return to Julian’s apartment, to wrap around him, to claim and keep and protect. “A coffee shop?”
