Page 25

AVA

I n Ciaran’s dorm bedroom, I’d expected to find him pacing his floor, but the room was empty.

My chest tightened as my gaze flicked to the open balcony door. A cool breeze fluttered through it, carrying with it the faint scent of smoke and pine.

I stepped out onto the balcony, my bare feet brushing against the cold tiles, and saw him on the roof, perched on the edge like a gargoyle, the wind ruffling his dark hair. My stomach twisted. He was too close to the edge, too still.

“Ciaran,” I called softly. “What are you doing up there?”

“Go back inside.”

The sharpness in his tone should have deterred me, but it didn’t. If anything, it fueled my resolve.

I moved to the edge of the balcony, my fingers curling over the cold stone railing. “I’m coming up.”

“Don’t be stupid, Ava.” He finally turned, his blue eyes blazing even in the dusk light. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

I rolled my eyes, planting my foot on the railing. “I’ll be fine. ”

He cursed under his breath as I hoisted myself up with the strength I’d earned at Blackthorn, the training that had saved my life more than once. My muscles strained, but I made it up without faltering.

I crouched on the roof, steadying myself before moving toward him. His scowl deepened as I settled beside him, close but not touching.

“You’re insane,” he muttered, his bruised jaw tight.

“Maybe,” I said. “But so are you.”

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The silence between us was heavy, oppressive, punctuated only by the faint rustle of the trees below.

He stared out over the campus, over the spires and stone towers that broke through the Darkmoor forest, his profile carved from stone, but his shoulders were tense, his hands, still dirty and grazed, clenched.

“What are you doing out here?” I finally asked.

He exhaled sharply, a bitter laugh escaping him. “Thinking.”

“About?”

He turned to me then, his gaze raw, unguarded. “About how Ty’s probably right.”

I blinked. “Right about what?”

His lips twisted into a humorless smile. “That I’m not the best man for you.”

The confession knocked the air from my lungs. “Scáth—”

“Exactly. I’m your shadow , Ava,” he said. “Not the man who gets to keep you. Just the one who watches from the dark.”

“That’s not true,” I said, my voice cracking. “You’re— ”

“Don’t,” he cut me off, his eyes searching mine. “Don’t lie to make me feel better.”

I looked away, my heart pounding.

“I’m not lying,” I whispered. “I love you so much…”

His brows furrowed. “But?”

“But you terrify me,” I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. “The way you love me. It’s so intense, so… stifling. It feels like I’m choking and flying all at once.”

He stared at me, the vulnerability in his expression cutting me to the bone.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just… I don’t know how to love you any other way.”

My chest tightened. “And that’s the problem. I love you. But I’ve changed. And I love who I’ve become, who I’m becoming. I’m afraid of losing myself to you. Afraid that you can’t love me if I’m not who you want me to be.”

The silence stretched again, heavy with everything we weren’t saying.

He reached for me, pulling me up and over his lap so I was straddling him.

Our foreheads pressed together as his fingers ran across my body from my neck, down my breasts, and then over my hips and legs.

Like he was trying to memorize the feel of me. One last time.

“I can’t stick around if you choose him,” he said finally, his voice breaking. “I can’t watch you be with him.”

“Ciaran…” My throat tightened as tears pricked my eyes, my fingers curling into his shirt. “I can’t lose you.”

“Then promise me,” he said, his grip on my hips tightening as he pulled me closer, as his lips brushed against mine. “Promise me you’ll choose me.”

I hesitated, my heart splintering under the weight of his words. “I’m sorry. I can’t promise anything—yet.”

His jaw clenched, the hurt in his eyes nearly undoing me. “That’s not good enough, Ava.”

“I know,” I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks. “I know.”

The minute I stepped into Ty’s bedroom, his scent of sandalwood lingering in the air, I realized I’d never been in here before.

It was a reflection of him: masculine, orderly, and purposeful, with slate-gray walls and meticulously arranged furniture. The heavy oak desk held neatly stacked books and a closed laptop, while the bed, dressed in charcoal bedding, was made with military precision.

But the moment I caught sight of him sitting on the edge of his bed facing the full-length mirror, shirtless, bruised, and bleeding from a cut on the side of his forehead he was trying to clean, a first aid kit laid out beside him, my chest tightened.

“You’re an eejit.” I walked up to him and snatched the antiseptic pad from his hands. “Why didn’t you ask for help?”

Ty gave me a wry smile, his lips quirking up even as he winced. “Guess I’m not great at that.”

“Turn this way.” Standing between his legs, I turned his chin so I could see his wound properly, my hands steadier than I felt.

He hissed when I pressed the pad to his skin, his muscles tensing under my touch.

“Stay still,” I muttered, dabbing at the wound with more care than I wanted to admit.

He chuckled softly, his breath fanning against my cheek. “So, you love me too, huh? It’s not exactly how I planned for this to go.”

I shot him a glare, but it lacked heat. “You can’t plan what you’re going to feel.”

His grin faded, replaced by something quieter, heavier. “That’s all I’ve ever done, Ava. Plan. Control. Achieve. But with you…”

I stilled, the antiseptic pad hovering over his skin. “With me, what?”

He reached up, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. “I had a plan even with you, but now I know… I can’t control what happens with us, can I?”

My throat tightened at the raw vulnerability in his voice. “Mhaor…”

“Don’t,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Don’t say anything just to make me feel better. I need you to be honest.”

I swallowed hard, focusing on the wound again to avoid his piercing gaze.

“You make me feel safe,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “You’re my calm in the middle of the storm. But…”

I hesitated, unsure if I could say the next words aloud.

“But what?” he prompted gently .

“But I fell in love with him first ,” I said finally, the words cutting me as much as I feared they’d cut him.

He didn’t react right away, his silence stretching between us as he wrapped his arms around my legs and tugged me against him.

I dropped the pad and brushed my hands through his hair still damp from the shower.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low, pained. “And that’s something I can never change.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He exhaled sharply. “I know. I just wish I knew what made you fall for him all those years ago. Maybe I could have…”

The intensity of his stare was too much.

I tore my gaze away and fished the antique engagement ring out of my pocket, the large diamond catching the dim light of the room. My heart thudded uncomfortably as I held it out to him.

“Here,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “This belongs to you.”

Ty glanced at the ring in my palm, then at me. His expression didn’t shift, unreadable as always.

But when he reached out, it wasn’t to take the ring—it was to push my hand back toward me.

“Keep it,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I bought it for you, anyway.”

I blinked, momentarily thrown off-balance. My fingers closed reflexively around the ring as his hand lingered on mine for a moment too long. Warmth flooded my chest, and I hated the way it spread, unchecked and unwelcome.

“Ty,” I started, shaking my head. “I can’t— ”

“Return it,” he interrupted, cutting me off with a wry curve of his lips, “if you want me to propose to you for real.”

I froze. His words hit me like a shot of adrenaline, lighting up every nerve.

My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I couldn’t think past the implications.

He held my gaze, his eyes steady, waiting for a response I wasn’t sure I could give.

“No pressure or anything,” I muttered, shoving the ring back into my pocket. The small band might as well have been molten, searing through the fabric to brand my skin.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich.

“No pressure,” he echoed, though the weight of his gaze said otherwise.

He pulled me down into his lap, cradling me the way he did that first time when he carried me to the nurse’s office.

“But if I never get that ring back…” He hesitated, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know if I can watch you love someone else. Even if it’s him.”

The confession shattered something inside me. My hands trembled as I clung to him with my arms around his neck.

His arm tightened around my back, steadying me as he kissed me.

I tasted the blood clinging to the cut on his lip, ran my tongue over his scar and felt him tremble underneath me.

“I’ll fight for you, Ava,” he said against my lips, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it. “But I won’t trap you. You have to make the choice.”

The weight of his words crushed me. I felt the tears welling up, but I refused to let them fall .

“And what if I can’t?” I whispered.

He pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Then you’ll destroy both of us.”

The finality of his statement left me breathless. Guilt and heartbreak swirled in my chest, threatening to choke me.

I wanted to tell him it would be okay, that I’d figure it out. But as I sat there, tangled in his warmth and his pain, I wasn’t sure I believed it.

The smell of rich tomato sauce and fresh basil filled the loft as I set a steaming pot of pasta down on the circular dining table set with plates, utensils, and glasses of water.

“Dinner’s ready,” I yelled, noting how ironic this little domestic scene appeared.

The brothers emerged from their rooms at the same time, their footsteps heavy on the wooden floor.

Ty’s sharp blue eyes immediately locked on Ciaran, his lips pressing into a thin line.

Ciaran, ever the fire to Ty’s ice, rolled his shoulders and set his jaw, shooting Ty a challenging glare. The air crackled between them.

“The first person to throw a punch goes to bed hungry,” I said firmly, breaking the tension before it could boil over.

For a moment, they just stood there, glaring at each other, until I raised an eyebrow.

“Understood?” I warned.

They both muttered under their breath as they moved toward the table .

Ciaran dropped into the chair on my left while Ty took the seat to my right, neither of them sparing the other a glance.

I busied myself ladling pasta onto their plates, refusing to let their simmering resentment ruin the dinner I’d worked to make. The clink of the serving spoon against ceramic echoed awkwardly in the silence.

“If we’re fighting each other,” I said, my voice steady but heavy with meaning, “the Sochai wins.”

Ciaran stabbed at his pasta, his shoulders tense. “Doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

Ty leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Trust me, the feeling’s mutual.”

I slammed my fork down onto the table, startling them both.

“Enough.” My voice was sharp, leaving no room for argument. “You don’t have to like each other, but you do have to work together. If you can’t manage that, then we’re all dead.”

The weight of my words settled over them like a storm cloud.

Ciaran scowled at me. “You have to choose.”

“I will choose,” I said. “But not right now. Right now, we only have one goal…”

“Bringing down the Sochai,” Ty said with a nod.

Ciaran let out a grudging grunt, pushing his food around his plate. “Fine.”

I exhaled, letting a little of my frustration go. “Good. Now kiss and make up.”

Neither of them moved.

I crossed my arms. “ Now , boys. ”

Ty was the first to huff and he nodded, turning to Ciaran. “Ceasefire?”

Ciaran’s jaw tightened, but after a beat, he nodded back. “Ceasefire. For now.”

The tension between them didn’t vanish entirely, but it lessened, shifting into something more focused.

“So…” I said as I twirled pasta onto my fork even though my hunger had vanished. “What do we do next?”

Ciaran was the first to break the silence. “Ashcradle has to have a paper trail even if it’s not still standing. I left a program running on my computer to trace the money and hopefully uncover any hidden records.”

Ty frowned thoughtfully. “Smart. If the clinic was tied to the Sochai, the money will lead us somewhere.”

I nodded, my thoughts already racing ahead. “And if it doesn’t?”

“We keep digging,” Ciaran said, stabbing at his meal. “There has to be a paper trail somewhere.”

Ty twirled his spaghetti into a perfect loop on his fork using his spoon. “Or we refocus on the missing girls. Someone in their lives knows something.”

“Or,” I said, “we use me as bait.”

Ciaran’s fork clattered to his plate. At the same time, Ty stopped chewing.

I took a sip of water. “What?”

Ciaran shot out of his chair, his hands braced on the edge of the table as he glared at me. “Are you out of your mind?”

I tried to keep my voice steady, but my heart hammered in my chest. “Think about it. If we let them take me this time, they’ll lead us straight to the High Lord. ”

“What the fuck, Ava?” Ciaran looked about ready to smash the table in two.

I glanced at Ty for his support. “You and Ciaran can use my tracker implant to find me.”

“Your fucking what ?” Ciaran yelled.

But I ignored him, imploring Ty with my eyes.

Ty set his fork down slowly, his movements deliberate, but the tension radiating from him was palpable.

“Absolutely not,” he said, his voice cold and clipped. “We’re not handing you over to them.”

I glared at Ty. “You let me make the choice with the vial—”

“That was different.”

“—but you’re taking his side on this now?”

“It’s not about sides, Ava,” Ciaran said, throwing my words back at me. “It’s about you not being abused and murdered by a society of evil pedophilic bastards.”

Ty’s voice was icy. “Do you have any idea what they’d do to you?”

“It’s not your decision to make,” I snapped, the frustration bubbling over. “This is my life. My fight. They’re coming after me . They took my friend. I have to do something .”

Ciaran slammed his palm down on the table, making the plates rattle. “You’re not using yourself as bait, Ava! If I have to tie you to your fucking bed so help me God …”

His words hit me hard, sending a shudder down my spine at the memory of how he tied me down.

But I held my ground. “If we don’t stop them, they’ll just keep going. They’ll never stop. The blood and shattered innocence of more girls will be on your hands. ”

Ty’s jaw clenched, his icy exterior cracking as raw emotion bled into his voice. “There has to be another way. We’ll find it. But using you as bait is not it.”

“You’re both so afraid of losing me,” I said, my voice trembling with equal parts anger and heartbreak, “that you’re not even willing to try. But we’re running out of options. We need something to draw them out, and I’m the only thing we have.”

“No,” Ciaran said finally, his voice a quiet but unyielding promise. “Not this .”

“Not you ,” Ty said.

Great. This they were agreeing on.

The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive. Ty stared at me, his lips pressed into a thin line, while Ciaran looked like he was barely restraining himself from tearing the room apart.

From the corner of the living room, Ciaran’s computer pinged.

All three of us froze, our heads snapping toward the sound.

“The program,” Ciaran said. “It found something.”

He raced to the couch where his keyboard sat.

Ty and I fell on the couch next to him. I scooted forward to the edge of my seat as Ciaran clicked through the document that the program had sent him.

After tracing the shell corporations across several countries, we’d found the original incorporation document of Ashcradle House.

A single name blinked at the bottom of the screen: the owner of the Ashcradle House.

I stared at the all-too-familiar name, the blood draining from my face. My heart pounded as the pieces began to fall into place, the enormity of it threatening to crush me.

“That’s…” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rush of blood in my ears.

We’d found the High Lord.