Page 122 of Claiming Pretty

There would be no justice for Liath. The Sochai would keep taking girls, keep abusing them, keep killing them when they were unwanted, and no one would stop them.

Their secrets would remain hidden, their power unchallenged.

And me? They’d hunt me down and kill me, just as they had so many others. They’d gotten so close—too close—too many times before. It was only a matter of time.

I tried to steady my breathing, but the weight of the choice pressed down on me like a physical force.

I thought of Liath, her bright smile and quick wit stolen too soon. I thought of Mona Donahue, who had suffered so cruelly at their hands, and Mr. Buckley, who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had died to protect me.

All of them—gone. Because of the Sochai.

I tried walking away once. And I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it now, either.

A flicker of resolve flared in my chest, burning through the fear. No more running. No more hiding.

It was time to attack the Sochai head-on.

I lifted my head, meeting their stares with a fire I couldn’t allow myself to extinguish.

“We have to stop them,” I said calmly, willing the steadiness in my voice to drown out the pounding of my heart. “And this is our best chance.”

Ciaran’s pacing stopped abruptly. He turned to me, his frustration snapping like a live wire. “Are you hearing yourself, Ava? You’re talking about walking into their lair unconscious! What if they don’t let you leave?”

“You claim me as your ‘daughter’ through their ‘inheritance’ rule. Members aren’t to touch another member’s ‘daughter’ unless their owner decrees.”

The room fell into a stunned silence as they both stared at me.

I reached for one of the journals on the table and snatched it up, waving it toward him. “It’s part of their disgusting manifesto.”

My hand trembled as I held the journal, the weight of its twisted knowledge bearing down on me.

Ciaran’s face twisted with outrage, his fists clenching at his sides.

Ty, sitting stiffly across the table, recoiled like he’d been slapped.

“Those sick bastards,” he muttered, his voice low and seething.

I dropped the journal onto the table like it burned, the revulsion curling in my stomach making it impossible to hold on to any longer.

“We use their strict rules against them,” I said, my voice quieter but no less resolute.

Ty exhaled a sharp, bitter sigh. “Fuck.”

Ciaran rounded on him, his fury now directed at his brother. “Are you actually entertaining this madness?”

Ty’s jaw tightened as he straightened in his chair, his voice calmer but taut with tension. “I don’t like it either, Ci. But maybe with some precautions—with you ‘claiming’ her, with me nearby as backup…”

Ciaran stepped closer, his eyes blazing. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to carry her into their den—unconscious—like a lamb to the slaughter.”

Ty’s expression darkened, his calm veneer cracking.

“ThenI’lldo it,” he said, his voice cool and cutting. “I’ll pretend to be you.”

Ciaran barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. “Please. You couldn’t pass as me even on your best day.”

Ty leaned forward, his gaze steady and unflinching. “What? Like playing an impulsive hothead is hard?”

He smirked slightly, his tone turning teasing as heglanced at me. “Please, I’ve fooled even Ava before. Haven’t I,rabbit?”

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