Forty-eight hours. Forty-eight excruciating, tormenting hours. Kiril experienced every painful second of those hours. And all because of one woman—Shara.
He wasn’t going to leave Cork without seeing her again. He didn’t care if he had to comb through every business, every pub, and even every house. It didn’t matter how many Dark Fae stood in his way.
He. Was. Going. To. See. Her.
Had he not been so wound up, had she not been in his room, he might have realized how close to the edge he was. The fact he knew he was teetering on the brink of losing his control didn’t go undetected by him.
Shara wanted something from him, and he wanted something from her. If he allowed it, they could dance around it for days or weeks to come. Kiril wasn’t sure how much longer he could remain in Ireland.
He might have told Con earlier during their morning chat that he was fine. He was anything but. It was getting harder and harder to remain in human form, and his work on the cellar wasn’t moving along as quickly as he wanted.
Of course, with the Dark watching, he had to take his time and not let them realize what he was doing. Time was running out. If he didn’t learn where Rhi was before it was too late, everything he had done would be for naught.
He drove his SLS Roadster down the same road as he did every night, crossing the bridge into the city center of Cork and parked. The difference was, he didn’t park in the same location as he had the last few days. He chose the other side of town.
It was time he changed things up a bit. For the Dark, but more importantly for himself.
Kiril got out of the car, buttoned his suit jacket, and locked the car. He walked along the streets, effortlessly blending in with others—the drunks, the partiers, the tourists, and the locals. He stayed in the shadows, making it look as if it wasn’t on purpose. It made it easier for him to see how many Dark followed him.
Three. Two on foot and one on the rooftops.
How many would be watching Shara? Because he knew she would be there. Farrell’s anger had been palpable the night before. They thought they had hooked him that first night with Shara, and he made them think differently. They would put her back out that night, just as he had wanted them to do.
Because the simple truth was … he was hooked.
She had done something to him. All he could think about was her when he should be concentrating on finding Rhi. There were so many times lately that Rhi had been there to help the Kings out. He couldn’t let her down now.
Kiril paused as a group of female college students walked in front of him. Several eyed him, smiling in encouragement. Kiril gave them a nod and continued on once they passed.
His ire grew the longer he walked without encountering Shara. Until he turned a corner and saw her. It was like being punched in the gut, just like the first time he saw her.
She wore a sleeveless dark gold dress that skimmed her curves with a deep V down the front showing ample cleavage. Kiril bit back a moan of approval. Her hair was loose about her shoulders and styled in thick waves. Gold earrings molded in a thin line dangled from her ears, and the only other piece of jewelry was a gold bracelet on her right wrist.
She came to a stop when she saw him, a slow smile upon her lips. As expected, she had her glamour back up, hiding her red eyes and the silver stripe in her hair. It should worry him that her red eyes didn’t bother him. It meant she was evil, had done evil, and yet he didn’t care.
Was this how he repaid his brethren? Did he betray them so easily? If Rhys, Laith, Con, or one of the others were with him, they would tell him in no uncertain terms to get his head out of his ass and to stop thinking with his dick.
Con was right. He couldn’t do this, not by himself. But bringing another Dragon King to Ireland was asking for trouble. There had to be another way to find Rhi and spy on the Dark.
Kiril turned to the side, his back to the building. Shara’s smile disappeared and a frown marred her brow. As tempting as she was, he had to walk away. Because if he went to her now, he would kiss her, and one kiss wouldn’t be nearly enough.
He started back to his car with purposeful steps. Not once did he stop, not even when she called his name. When he reached the Mercedes, he rested his arms on the top and dropped his head to his chest.
For once he didn’t care who saw his conflicting emotions or what they thought of it. They could all go fuck themselves.
“Kiril.”
He squeezed his eyes closed. No. She couldn’t have followed him all the way back to his car.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered as she stepped close. “Talk to me.”
“Why?” he asked and lifted his head to glare at her. “Because we know each other so well? Because you’re my friend?”