Page 156 of Claiming Pretty

Before I even hit the ground, darkness consumed me.

THE WARDEN

The Darkmoor forest loomed around me, its shadows twisting under the cold light of the moon. Each step felt heavier than the last, each step away from my brother a bitter reminder of what had been lost—and what couldn’t be undone.

Ava’s limp body, fragile and so damn still, pressed against my chest. Her head lolled against my shoulder, and her hair brushed my jaw, a cruel echo of the countless times I’d held her this close.

It should have felt like freedom—escaping that suffocating tomb—but all I felt was the weight of what waited for us. For her. For me.

The ache in my chest hollowed me out, leaving only the shell of a man still moving forward because I had no choice.

Ava was still in danger. Every moment we lingered was another moment that Ebony could change her mind and come for her.

Ava wouldn’t truly be safe until we left Ireland.

I glanced down at Ava’s face, pale against the darkness,her lashes fanned out across her cheeks. She looked so delicate, almost peaceful in a way that made my chest tighten.

A part of me wanted her to stay unconscious, to never wake up and realize the truth of what I had done.

Of who I had left behindfor her.

Of the sacrifice that had been made, one I couldn’t undo no matter how much it ripped me apart.

Her soft groan broke the stillness, and my heart kicked against my ribs.

Ava shifted in my hold, her fingers twitching before pressing weakly against my chest.

My grip instinctively tightened, bracing myself for the storm I knew was coming.

“Shh,” I murmured, my voice low and raw. “Ava, please, stay still. That guard hit you hard. You might have a concussion.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, there was only confusion as she stared at my face. But then her body jerked in my arms.

“Ciaran!” she screamed, her voice splintering with desperation as she pushed against my chest, her fists weak but frantic. “We have to go back for him!”

I said nothing. I just held her tighter, feeling her fists batter against my own shattered heart.

“Put me down!” she screamed again, thrashing harder. “We can’t leave him!”

Her words were arrows of guilt aimed at my fractured soul. But I forced myself to stay steady, to keep walking.

“Stop, Ava.” My voice came out rough, thick with the emotion I tried and failed to keep buried. “Don’t make his sacrifice mean nothing.”

She froze for a heartbeat, her chest heaving against mine as she stared up at me. Her wide, tear-filled eyes searched mine, disbelief etched into every line of her face. I could see the moment her grief twisted, sharp and venomous, into anger.

“Hissacrifice?” she spat, her voice cracking. “You left him, Ty!Yousacrificed him!”

Her accusation hung in the air, freezing me mid-step.

My chest felt hollow, my heart beating too fast and too hard against my ribs as the forest seemed to close in, every shadow pressing down on me as if the trees themselves condemned me.

She thrashed harder, her nails raking against my arms. “Let me go!”

I didn’t loosen my grip, but her grief had turned her into something feral, wild.

Somehow, she slipped free, tumbling out of my hold and staggering toward the tomb.

My pulse spiked as I saw her take off, her silhouette barely visible in the dim moonlight.

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