CAGED (#3, of Crows and Thorns)

Chapter 87

I practically stumbled into the corridor in the rush to get to my bodyguard before he sent a female colleague into the bathroom to fetch me. Dim light and the noise of chatter bounced all around my panicked figure. The restroom door swung shut behind me with a thump, the loud sound so disconcerting I jolted and the hand resting on my throat fluttered upward like a startled bird.

Hellsgate. I needed to get a fucking grip.

Nervously patting my collarbone, I drew in a deep, fortifying breath. I needed to be calm and collected. Well, as much as I could be under the circumstances. Graysen couldn't know that I'd just spoken to my sister's spy. Although, as I chanced a furtive glance around the passageway, it seemed I needn't have worried.

My bodyguard was talking to a comrade a little further down from where I stood. Both of them were discussing something in low, urgent voices and were so caught up in their conversation that they hadn't realized I was there. Taking advantage of the moment, I twisted sideways and rose on my toes to peer around the marketgoers strolling up and down the corridor. Ahead, through the great archway, Graysen stood amongst the stalls. Just like my guards, he appeared distracted. The market's lighting poured downward and caught the crown of his bowed head, making the untamed mane of hair glisten like oil as he rapidly typed on his phone. The tense line in his jaw followed a path down his corded throat to stiff shoulders and the rigid bearing of his body. He suddenly glanced up beneath drawn eyebrows and his gaze honed in on someone out of my view. He cocked his head as if listening, then scowled, parting his lips to reply. I didn't hear what he'd said but I caught the pinched features, the shake of his head as if to say what the fuck before he turned back to his phone, his fingers flying over the screen.

What the hells was going on?

I dropped my hand to my middle, the gathered pleats slipping beneath my fingers as I brushed my hand along the skirt's high waistline. Rolling back to the flat of my feet, I walked over to my guards and cleared my voice. The rough, abrupt sound made both men snap their gazes my way, surprise flaring in their eyes. I didn't bother to wait for their instructions, instead spinning around to hurry off, hoping to draw them away from the restrooms so Dustin could steal away undetected.

I couldn't believe Dustin had managed to sneak in there, but seeing how preoccupied the guards were I realized it might have been quite easy. I frowned, wondering what had absorbed their attention. Graysen's too.

The wall carved with tall grasses and flitting dragonflies swept past me as I marched down the corridor. My quick movement had my tresses bouncing upon my shoulders and the ends of my scarf swaying across my chest. The guard's heavy footsteps shadowed me from behind as I stepped beneath the enormous arched entrance back into the market.

Surprise cracked against my ribcage and I ground to a standstill when I saw who'd joined us.

Caidan Crowther.