Page 89 of Iron Blade

He came down the steps, and the wood beneath him creaked like it protested his presence.

Eoghan and Dairo stepped closer to each other until their shoulders touched, taking up the space between me and this man.

“How dare you bring her here?” Alastair said, his venom going straight to his only son. “How dare you place your mother’s ring on her hand?”

He came to a stop between the two cousins, and I shuddered as those black eyes turned to me.

“She’s not even Irish!” He turned his hateful eyes to Dairo, who stood between me and him. “And where were you when my son was acting like a complete fool?”

“I was at the wedding.” Dairo’s voice was even, but I could hear his restraint. He would have shouted it if he could.

I knew, in a way, that Dairo wasn’t defending me. He was defending his cousin. The two were closer than brothers, and that gave me a little flicker of happiness. Eoghan had someone in his corner, in a family that obviously treated him like shit.

“I was happy to be there,” Dairo said, his uncle deflating slightly at the defiance. “They’re a good match.”

I felt, as much as I saw, Eoghan’s shoulders come up in a defensive stance, his hands on either side of him loosened, ready to fight if he needed to. As if they were synchronized, Dairo followed his lead. Were the two men ready to take down the head of Green Field’s Enterprises, for me? Probably not.

That was something that wasn’t in Paradigm’s report on the elusive Green family.

“She’s my wife,” Eoghan snarled back. I felt like I watched two dogs circling, looking for dominance. “And that ring belongs to her now.”

I stared down at the emerald on my hand. What was the significance of this thing, other than it had been his mother’s? Was there something I did not know?

Don’t be stupid. There’s a million things you don’t know about this shadow world.

“You fucking eejit!” Alastair’s fist came at Eoghan’s face, slamming into the side of his right eye socket. I heard the sickening crack of bone, as his head turned to the side. But Eoghan didn’t move apart from that. His feet planted firmly, his shoulders stiff, as he slowly turned his face back to his father.

“Stop!” That was Aoibheann, coming from the wall, and to the balustrade of the landing, hovering over us as she reached out with her pale, porcelain arm.

The house around us seemed to dim, like a malignant specter was haunting the place, showing its displeasure at the conflict before me. I hoped that whatever ghost was wafting in these ancient walls was on our side, and not on the side of the insane Alastair Green.

As if to justify my thought, the wind started howling outside, swaying the building, as leaves and debris rattled against the windows.

“She is his wife!” Aoibheann Green stepped forward from the wall she was leaning on, and held out her hand. Her haunted, breathy voice made me shiver, as it looked like she was commanding the wind itself. “And it has been blessed!”

Was she casting a fucking spell? What the hell was going on?

“They have made vows that no man can put asunder!”

Alastair turned to his wife, his caterpillar brows furrowed, and his hands out at his side as if afraid of the spirits she was conjuring. There was genuine fear across his face as he stared at his wife.

“Any man who comes between them shall be cursed.” Her voice took on an ethereal, angry air like Galadriel as she hovered over the evil Ring.

Then the wind died down as quickly as it came, and Aoibheann fell to her knees, like she was exhausted.

Alastair stood perfectly still, as that husband and wife stared at each other.

Eoghan didn’t miss a beat. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and the other under my thighs, as he carried me bridal style up the stairs, taking them two at a time, Dairo hard on his heels. The two of them gave Aoibheann a wide berth, as we turned down the hall, and behind a door, into a grand room.

Eoghan flopped on a bed, me still on his lap, as Dairo shut the door, leaning against it as if he expected someone to try and break it down.

“Christ,” Dairo said, slamming the back of his head against the door. “It’s fucking strange to be home.”

“I’m sorry, Kira,” Eoghan said, placing his head into the nape of my neck.

He was calling me by my first name. He hadn’t really done that much until now. It was always Miss Kekoa this, and Miss Kekoa that. Then, it was Mrs. Green, or simply… wife.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a huff against my skin.

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