Page 175 of Claiming Pretty

And now, that house would stand empty, haunted by the ghost of a man she never truly loved.

A sharp creak of metal jolted me from my thoughts. The heavy door to the cellblock groaned open, and the sound of footsteps echoed against the stone corridor.

I didn’t move. I didn’t need to. It was the guards, here to take their pound of flesh. They could take whatever they wanted. I had nothing left to give.

But then the steps slowed.

They were lighter than a guard’s. Deliberate. Hesitant. My heart gave a single, sharp jolt.

The lock of my cell rattled.

My pulse quickened despite myself, though I kept my face pressed to the wall. I refused to hope. Refused to let myself believe.

Then I smelled jasmine.

My chest seized, and I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek to stop the sound that wanted to rip free. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

Do not believe. Do not hope.

A hand gripped my shoulder, warm and soft, and I jerked as if burned. I turned slowly, not trusting my eyes or the dim light. And then I saw her.

Ava.

The bulb above cast shadows on her face, but the trembling of her chin and the sheen of tears in her eyes were unmistakable.

“Are you real?” My voice cracked, a hoarse whisper.

Her tears fell faster. She reached out, cupping my cheek, her touch featherlight against the swelling there.

“Ty,” she breathed, and my name was a prayer on her lips. “We did it. It’s over. The Sochai, they’re finished, thanks to you.”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t breathe. My chest ached with the force of it—of her, here, against every rational thought.

Then she leaned in and kissed me. Her lips brushed mine, hesitant, desperate, grounding me in a way that made the room spin. I should have pulled away. I should have told her to leave, to go back to the man she’d chosen. But I couldn’t.

When she pulled back, her forehead rested against mine.

Her voice broke as she whispered, “Mhaor, I’ve come to free you.”

The moment Ava and I stepped outside the tomb, the weight of everything that had happened seemed to rush over me all at once.

The dawn was breaking, casting the forest in a pale, ghostly light, and yet it all felt muted compared to the woman standing beside me.

Her hand brushed against mine, hesitant but deliberate. I turned to her, ready to ask if she was alright, but the look in her eyes stopped me. It wasn’t the weariness I expected, or even the lingering fear. There was something softer there. Something I hadn’t dared let myself hope to see.

“I have one last gift for you,” she said, her voice quiet but steady.

A gift? My heart clenched painfully in my chest.

After everything, she was still thinking of me. Of givingmesomething. Didn’t she know that the only thing I’d ever wanted washer?

She reached into her pocket, her movements slow, deliberate, as if she were carrying something fragile.

When she pulled her hand free, the sun caught on it, the large diamond glittering like the first star of evening.

The engagement ring I bought her.

My knees nearly buckled as I remembered what I told her.Return it if you want me to propose to you for real.

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