Page 47 of Claiming Pretty

The sleeping reaper and the dark-haired girl leaning in to kiss him.

And farther down to the ghostly wolf that slunk around his lower back, its body half-faded into smoke.

And on the back of one sleeve was a ship trapped inside a glass bottle, the movement of his arm muscles making the flames that engulfed the ship look alive.

Before I knew it, my feet had carried me closer to him, his presence drawing me in like a magnet, even though my mind screamed at me to stay away.

“I went to jail thinking I was taking the fall for you,” Ty said, his voice quiet but cutting as he set the cutting board down beside me. His knife flashed in the soft kitchen light, his movements precise. “Ci admitted later that he knew the amount of oleander you’d added wasn’t enough. He added the lethal dose.”

My fingers curled around the edge of the counter. His words sank in like cold iron. For all Ty’s beauty, his ruthless, calculating core was never far beneath the surface.

I watched his hands work the knife, the blade moving so expertly over the garlic and onions it was almost hypnotic.

“But you stayed in jail for him?” My voice was barely above a whisper. “All those years?”

His scars caught the light as I scanned his body, themarks of battles I hadn’t been there to see. I ached to reach out and trace them, to piece together the pain they represented, but I kept my hands tight at my sides.

“Of course,” Ty said simply, the knife pausing mid-cut. “He’s my brother.”

There was no emotion in his tone, no passion. Just a cold, matter-of-fact truth. But something flickered across his face—a crack in his armor, fleeting and almost imperceptible.

I knew their relationship was complicated. Actually, complicated didn’t even scratch the surface.

But I also knew TylovedCiaran.

A pang of guilt twisted inside me. I thought it might have been easier if they hated each other—if the love they shared hadn’t made the rivalry between them even more excruciating. It wouldn’t bemetearing them apart.

They’d both already destroyed pieces of themselves for me. Ty had given up years of his life in prison. Ciaran had taken their father’s life for me. How much more could I ask of them? How much more could I take?

“Do you want to wash the tomatoes?” Ty asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I nodded weakly, the sound of running water filling the silence. I reached for the basket he’d brought earlier from the market.

Behind me, the hiss of onions hitting hot oil made me jump. I was too aware of his presence, the way the heat from the stove seemed to mix with the heat radiating off his body.

A tomato slipped from my hands and rolled into the sink.

Ty reached around me, his fingers brushing mine as he plucked it up. The deliberate graze of his skin against mine sent a shiver straight through me.

“Here,” he murmured, his hands closing loosely over mine. The water cascaded between our fingers, warm and intimate.

My breath hitched as the closeness became almost unbearable.

“Why do you call me hummingbird?” I asked, the question tumbling out before I could stop it.

“You’re smart. Why do you think?” His voice was low, teasing.

I should have turned away, pulled back. Instead, my nipples tightened from his nearness, and I hated the way my body betrayed me.

“Hummingbirds are small and weak,” I said, the words tumbling out in frustration.

Ty froze behind me. In one swift motion, his hands gripped my hips and spun me to face him, pinning me between his body and the counter.

“Hummingbirds might be small,” he said, his voice a low growl, “but they’re fierce and protective. They’re one of the few animals who are bigger on the inside than out… like you.”

Oh.

His gaze burned into mine. “There’s nothing weak about you, Ava. I don’t know who gave you that idea.”

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