Page 94 of Claiming Pretty

At the same moment, Ty leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering along the side of my neck.

A shiver went down my spine and a small, involuntary sigh escaped my lips.

The second it left me, I knew it was a mistake. Worse, I didn’t even know which of their touches had caused it.

The apartment fell deadly silent, the cool breeze of fall cutting through the open windows doing nothing to cut through the thickened air that made it hard to breathe.

I didn’t need to turn to know they had locked eyes. Each silently claimed my reaction as proof of his hold on me.

I gripped the edge of the table, willing the floor to swallow me. I didn’t want it to be like this—caught between them, terrified of letting my feelings slip because of the small war it might set off. Always hurting one to please the other.

This wasn’t just a rock and a hard place. This was two entire worlds, each with its own gravity, pulling me apart. And I knew it couldn’t end anywhere but in destruction.

“There is one thing we haven’t tried,” Ty said, his voice low, too calm, that voice scaring me more than Ciaran’s fiery outbursts ever could. “Ava, you’ve had more contact with the Sochai than you realize. At that clinic…”

The words impacted me like a blow to the gut. Flashes of that bright, sterile room threatened to drown me. The forced abortion. The cold hands. The suffocating helplessness. My vision blurred as the memory tried to claw its way to the surface, jagged and raw.

“I know it will be painful to go back… and I’m sorry.” Ty reached into his pocket and pulled something out, setting it carefully on the table in front of me. “But maybe you might remember something more.”

A glass vial, its delicate facets catching the dim light.

The sight of it sent a jolt of ice through my veins. My hand instinctively groped for Ciaran’s, and my lower lip quivered despite my best efforts.

I had been strong enough to face my abuse. To fight back against the shadows that threatened to consume me. Butthismemory—it was the one that shattered me every time.

Could I do it? Could I let myself go back there? Could I willingly tear open that scar, relive that pain, for the greater good?

“What is that?” Ciaran asked sharply, his brows furrowing.

To him, it must have looked innocuous sitting there—a fancy bottle of perfume or a vial of face oil. But I knew better.

“It’s a paralytic,” Ty said matter-of-factly, his voice devoid of emotion. “And a mental disinhibitor.”

Ciaran’s face twisted with horror as his gaze snapped to me. “He made you take that?”

“Avachoseto take it at Blackthorn,” Ty said, his tone clipped. “Just like it’sherchoice now.”

Ciaran growled low in his throat, his fury barely contained.

I cupped his cheeks with my sweaty palms, trying to anchor him, but his wild eyes kept darting back to Ty.

“I know you wanted me to keep my memories buried,” I said, desperation creeping into my voice. “But I needed to know, Scáth. I needed to face them.”

Ciaran’s voice cracked as he shrugged my hands off him. “So you chose poison over love? You chosehimoverme?”

“Yes,” Ty said coldly.

“No!” I said at the same time. “I chose the truth!” I shouted, balling my hands into fists. “I choseme.”

Ciaran was shaking with anger, his knee bouncing uncontrollably as he swore under his breath. “I won’t let you get hurt ever again. I won’t fucking allow it.”

“She’s strong enough now,” Ty said, his words a calm provocation. “Thanks to me.”

“After you brainwashed her and tortured her for months?” Ciaran roared, his chair scraping violently as he stood.

“Stop!” I shouted, but my voice was drowned out by the sound of his chair clattering to the floor.

Ty stood too, his movements measured. He pushed his chair back against the table with deliberate precision, his eyes cold as steel.

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