Page 38 of Claiming Pretty

“Yes,” I said, hypnotized by his eyes. “Pines, I think.”

“Pines,” he echoed.

“And the house shouldn’t be too big,” I said, breathing a little too quickly, “so that we can always find each other without having to yell.”

“Unless I’m up on the small rooftop terrace with the telescope.”

Ciaran smiled, and for a moment, it transformed him. It softened the hard edges of his face, a rare warmth breaking through his usual cruel mask.

“But we should always go together to count the stars,” I said.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I promise to never look at the stars without you.”

Was it foolish to hope that Scáth and I could have our happily ever after? That the chaos and pain could somehow lead us here, to this fragile moment of peace?

“I missed you too,” I whispered.

As I rested against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek, a quiet certainty settled in my chest.

I’d made the right choice. Choosing Ciaran felt right—it felt like coming home.

But even as that love anchored me, a shadow lingered in the unspoken spaces between us.

There was so much left unsaid—things I didn’t have the courage to ask, truths he hadn’t yet offered, questions that burned on my tongue.

They hovered like ghosts, threatening the fragile foundation we were trying to build.

For now, I held on to him, praying this moment could last just a little longer.

It didn’t, though.

“Come with me,” he said softly, his voice low and coaxing, like he was trying to pull me back into something familiar, something safe. “We’ll leave tonight. Start over somewhere far away from all this.”

I wanted to melt into his words, let them sweep me away into a dream of freedom.

But I couldn’t.

“I can’t.” My voice came out barely above a whisper. “Too much has changed, Ciaran.”

He stiffened, his fingers that had been tracing my bare shoulder froze. “This is because of Ty, isn’t it?”

“It’s not about Ty,” I said, shaking my head against his chest. “I’vechanged.”

His gaze sharpened, cutting into me like a blade, and themuscles under his jaw twitched. “What happened when Ty had you?”

Guilt coiled in my stomach, sharp and bitter, as memories clawed their way to the surface.

The heat of Ty’s body pressed against mine as he adjusted my fighting stance, his hands firm on my body, his instructions growling in my ear, igniting a power deep inside me.

The vulnerable look in his eyes when he told me about how he’d gotten the scar on his top lip, how my fingers had trembled as I traced it, and before I could think, I had leaned in and sucked it into my mouth, as if my lips could wash away the pain.

And eyes, fierce and unrelenting, locked with mine as I slid the knife into the masked man’s chest, no words, only a shared understanding intimate in a way I couldn’t explain.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight as I forced the memories back. How could I tell Ciaran any of this? How could I explain that my time with Ty hadn’t just broken me, but it’d started rebuilding me, too.

My throat tightened, and I dropped my gaze, unable to hold his.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I said, the words tumbling out too fast, too shaky. “It’s over.”

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