Page 20 of Claiming Pretty

The door opened, and a tall dark figure stepped through.

Ciaran.

Ava’s reaction was instant and visceral. She froze, her eyes widening as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

The bat clattered to the floor, forgotten.

Her entire face lit up, love and relief flooding her expression in a way that hit me like a punch to the gut.

Ciaran crossed the room in two quick strides, grabbing her and pulling her into his arms.

“Ava,” he breathed, his voice raw with emotion. “Is it really you?”

And then he kissed her, his arms crushing her to him as his mouthclaimedher.

I couldn’t look away, no matter how much I wanted to. I watched as her body softened against his, her frame molding to his as if it belonged there, their lips moving together like they’d done this a hundred times before—like she washis.

The faintest sound escaped her, a breathless, almost inaudible sigh, and it was like a knife to my chest.

My world narrowed to that single moment, every other sound and sensation fading into the background. Jealousy flared hot and sharp, but deeper than that was the ache—theunrelenting, bitter fear that she would never kissmelike that.

I cleared my throat, stepping out of the shadows.

Ava jerked back, her eyes wide as she turned toward me, as if she only just fucking remembered I was here.

Ciaran reacted just as quickly, pulling a knife from his belt and spinning to face me, his stance defensive and ready.

For a moment, I stared at him, at the mirror image of my own face. My twin. My family. My rival.

“Hello, brother,” I said, letting a faint smirk curve my lips. “Did you miss me?”

THE SHADOW

“Hello, brother. Did you miss me?”

My feet felt rooted to the floor, my body frozen as I stared across Ava’s bedroom, my eyes locked on a ghost.

For a moment, my mind refused to believe what it was seeing.

Ty.

He stood there, leaning casually against the wall like a shadow brought to life.

The same face I’d spent years trying to forget. The same face I saw every time I looked in the mirror. My brother. Mydeadbrother.

I blinked hard, my breath catching in my chest.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

Ty died in prison months ago. I dropped black roses onto his casket in the ground. I broke down over his fucking grave, and I’d buried the grief deep enough to forget how raw it used to feel.

Had I hit my head? Had Ava’s return—her kiss—overwhelmed me so much that my brain had finally cracked? Was I hallucinating him because of the guilt gnawing away at me since the day I broke my promise?

“I promise I will never touch her. She’s yours, Ty.”

I shot a glance back at Ava, desperate for confirmation, for proof that this wasn’t some cruel hallucination conjured by my unraveling mind. That she could see him too. That I wasn’t losing my grip on reality.

“He’s alive,” she said softly, her lips curving into an uncertain smile.

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