Page 132 of Through the Water

To him, I’d always been the exotic collectible—the rare find that was worth millions—and Tristan had just discovered the one way to ensure I stayed locked behind glass forever.

Killian.

I stilled as years of bottled-up hurt came to a head, before launching myself at him with a snarl. Tristan’s delusions had only grown stronger in my absence. He was committed to his narrative, no matter how far it was from the truth. Ashlynn’s death. My car accident. Killian. There was always going to be someone standing in his way. The ground could be littered with bodies, but as long as it furthered his kingdom, he’d gladly rule over a wasteland.

“You goddamned asshole!” I shrieked, connecting with his forearm as he brought it up to deflect my blows. Killian’s curses tumbled from lips as I raked my nails over Tristan’s skin, drawing blood to the surface. Flames danced in his eyes, making the whites appear to be glowing.

The muscles in his neck stood out like cords as he threw his head back and laughed, before dropping the poker to the floor with a clatter.

He no longer needed it.

Tristan had finally found something I was powerless against. Killian was my greatest weakness, and he knew it.

I staggered back jerkily, bringing my hands up to protect my head, pleading, “I just want to keep him safe. Please, I’ll do it, just don’t hurt him.”

“Attagirl,” he praised, stalking toward me. “In the Gospels, John states, ‘Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.’”

Pretend like you never went back to True North…

Pretend you’re safe in Killian’s arms…

Pretend you’re somewhere else…

Freedom. Safety. They’d never been anything more than illusions.

Pretend it only hurts if you let it…

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