Page 458 of Rage

Fury, the kind that could scare the Devil himself, threatened to overtake me.

If not for Maeve’s safety, I would have blown the fucking Captain’s head off, mentor or not. All that matters is Maeve.

“Of course, I did.” He scoffs. “Only a man can lead a clan. Maeve being the eldest was the best way to keep the O’Brien blood while getting a man to lead.”

“What about Briar?”

He slaps the desk. “That fucking ungrateful boy. He had the nerve to tell me I was ruining this family. Left last night for God knows where. He couldn’t do what it takes to lead.”

Sipping the freshly poured glass, I let the liquor burn my throat.

“So who will take the reins now?” I can’t offer Maeve. She’s the best choice for this, but he won’t listen to that.

Ferguson hates women, thinks them weak. I’ve seen the marks on his pseudo-wife. Unfortunately, he probably raised the scariest woman to ever walk this Earth.

“No fucking clue.” He leans his head back, dark hair grey at the temples.

I chew on my cheek, finishing the whiskey. A plan slowly forms in my mind. “Give me a list. I’ll work through the names,see who’s suitable.” And kill every single person who thinks they can have something that belongs to me.

I couldn’t protect Maeve before, but I can now.

“Ah, good man. I’ll have it for you in the morning.” He looks over my shoulder down the darkened hall. “Where is my oldest daughter, anyway?”

“Her room.” I hold his curious look, not giving anything away. Ferguson is a brute, but he isn’t stupid. He’s noticed menoticingher. He’s smart enough not to mention it. “Once I have the names, I’ll handle it right away.”

He doesn’t need to know that this clan will never go to an outsider. Only Maeve will sit on its throne. I’ll make sure of it.

Chapter Ten

Maeve

Awarm body slides into my bed behind me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist.

I freeze as his lips brush my ear—mint, tobacco, and the soothing citric smell of good whiskey. “It’s me, Princess.”

Immediately, I relax. Only Killian would ever come into my bedroom, would feel comfortable enough to be in my sanctuary. Everyone else was too afraid to go into unwanted territory.

His firm body is a welcoming weight, a leg sliding between my bare ones, holding me close.

“What happened to the body?” Sleep is trying to pull me back under, but I nestle closer to Killian. I need to make sure things are settled.

Michael is gone and a weight has left my shoulders. Free, relaxed, I feel like I can do anything.

“Handled.” He moves my legs, his hardening cock lodging against my backside. “Your father is home.”

His lips trail over my neck, and I move, allowing him access.

Although I’m tired, my body heats as the hand on my stomach slides lower. I had him hours ago, and I want more. This desire has never been here before. My pleasure has always taken a backseat to survival. Now, it’s back with a vengeance. Mybreathing picks up, and I lean against him, breasts pushed out as I seek his fingers where I need him most. I’m aching for his touch.

He chuckles. “Did you miss me already?”

“Killian,” I warn, trying to push his hand further south. He’s not having that, which infuriates me.

Quickly, I flip us over, straddling him as he adjusts to sit. I know I’m not as strong as the hitman, but he certainly acts as if I have all the power. That’s something I’ve always wanted—the power, the control, the safety that comes with it.

Because I’m sadistic, I hover over his bare pelvis, not letting him anywhere near me. He’s completely nude, and it’s a glorious sight: coiled muscle, inked skin, and pale scars. He’s beautiful.

The smirk he gives me is teasing, edged with desperation.

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