Chapter 72

CILLIAN

Isat back in the corner of the bar, watching everybody dancing and having a good time as the music rumbled through me. Six shots and two pints later, my ears didn’t feel like they wanted to bleed from the horrible karaoke that people were belting out at the top of their lungs. Each time a new person got up on stage, Ciara made up a new drinking game. I wasn’t playing because I was still riding high on the fact that she was mine.

I felt her in ways I never could before. Every bit of her was open to me—her joy and excitement and her lingering desire. It all poured out of her and crashed into me with no barrier and no way to stop it. It was as if I had never known her before—as if we hadn’t been together even though we were fated mates. I still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that it was her idea to mark each other when she’d been so adamantly against it in the past.

But I’d known sooner or later she’d cave. After all, it had been a long time coming. The memory of asking