As if she sensed that he was reaching the end, Sayre’s power was unleashing with a force unlike anything he’d ever witnessed. Hawks and gulls swarmed overhead, their stark, constant cries echoing over the crashing sound of the waves, almost as though she’d called them to bear witness to her rage. But it wasn’t just the animals falling under her spell—the tall trees that surrounded the clearing leaned eerily toward its perimeter, as if they’d been bent by a violent wind. Snakelike, meandering vines slithered across the ground, thumping repeatedly against the metaphysical shield that Colin had put in place.
She was desperately trying to reach him, her husky voice screaming in his head for him to keep fighting—but he knew if he didn’t make his final move now, it would be too late. And there wasn’t a chance in hell he was letting Aedan walk away from this, knowing the bastard would make Sayre suffer long and hard before he killed her.
“Tell me, brother,” he panted, when they’d broken apart to gain their bearings after another brutal bout of combat. “Was your little Elizabeth really worth all of this?” he asked, deliberately taunting the monster as he carefully made his way toward the spiky patch of broken limbs and rotting tree trunks that sat clumped together at the eastern edge of the clearing. “Was she really worth all the hate? Because all I recall is a broken little girl who detested even the sound of your name. She didn’t love you. She despised everything about you!”
Rising to the bait, Aedan let out a bloodcurdling roar and slammed into Cian so hard that it sent them both crashing to the ground—but the bastard was already too late. After wrapping the “binding tie” that he’d hidden earlier that day in one of the rotting trunks around Aedan’s wrist, Cian quickly looped it around his own, the simple-looking strip of black leather instantly searing its way into their flesh. Then he locked his burning gaze with Aedan’s, and gave him a chilling smile. “Thanks to Simone’s witchcraft, you’re bound to me now. Which means it’s time for you to die.”
“You can’t kill me,” Aedan scoffed, looking at him as if he were the one who’d been lost to madness. “Not when we’re bound, brother.”
“Just watch me,” he snarled, and it was almost enough to make him laugh, the look of shock that spilled over Aedan’s face like a stain.
Shaking his head with disbelief, Aedan’s pierced brows pulled together in a deep frown as he looked toward Sayre, who was watching them with wide, terrified eyes. And then he slowly brought his crimson gaze back to Cian. “Is this real?” he asked, and there was something in his tone that reminded Cian of the boy he’d known all those years ago, and it broke his fucking heart. “You’re willing to do that for her?”
“I’m willing to do anything for her,” he rasped, his goddamn eyes filling with tears. “Whatever it takes.” And with those final words, Cian shot one last, smoldering look at Sayre, drinking in the breathtaking sight of her until it fueled him with the strength he needed for one final burst of energy—and then he launched both him and Aedan through the air. They crashed into the middle of the rotten, broken trees, both of them crying out from the shared pain of their landing. Blood gurgled on Aedan’s lips from the gaping wound that had been made when a jagged, protruding branch pierced through his upper back and tore straight through his chest, the spearlike tip hovering just beneath Cian’s throat. But as brutal as the wound appeared, it wasn’t enough to kill him, and Cian knew what he had to do.
With Sayre’s screams echoing in his head, he whispered, “Time to die,” and shoved himself onto the branch, the wood puncturing his throat and driving straight through to his spinal column, severing it in two.
After that, there was nothing but a hazy, icy darkness, as if he were floating through the nighttime sky. He could hear arguing, but it was far away. Someone was shouting that he was dead, that Sayre was going to kill herself trying to save him, and he struggled to tell her no, not to risk herself, but she was screaming for everyone to stay away from her, threatening to zap them over the side of the cliffs if they tried to stop her. Then a strange, shimmering vein of warmth started to snake its way through his weightless body, growing steadily hotter and more brilliant, until it felt as if he were lying in the center of a burning flame.
Only...he wasn’t burning. Yes, there was pain, but his skin wasn’t charring, or turning to ash. Instead, it was his throat and spine that seared as though lava had been poured directly into his wounds, and he suddenly realized that it was Sayre’s healing powers being injected into his broken body.
“Did you make sure that goddamn binding tie is off him?” someone grunted, followed by a voice that sounded like Jillian’s still screaming, “Jesus, someone stop her. She’s going to kill herself!”
“Don’t you understand what’s happening?” Sayre growled, sounding like an enraged goddess. “He was tied to that asshole when he died, so he goes where his brother goes. If I let go of the hold I have on his soul, he’s going to follow right behind him, straight into Hell!”
“And if you’re linked with him like this, then so will you!” Jillian sobbed.
“I don’t care!” Sayre shouted, her voice cracking at the end. “He doesn’t get to come back, make me fall in love with his cocky ass and then leave me. Screw that! I won’t let him! I know I can save him. Why the hell do you think I came here after he walked away from me all over again? I saw this, Jilly. I knew he would need me!”
“Whatever you saw, it’s impossible to bring back a soul once it’s gone. You know that, Sayre. You’re not thinking straight.”
“Maybe it’s impossible for most,” he heard Jeremy murmur. “But you Murphy girls are special, sweetheart.”
Murphy girl? No! She needed his name, damn it. Needed to be a Hennessey.
And why in God’s name was he just lying there, listening to them argue, when he needed to fight for her? When he needed to fight his way back to her, so that she didn’t end up following him into the after? And while he was all for having this woman by his side for eternity—though preferably not in Hell—he wanted a lifetime with her first. He wanted the wedding and births. The holidays and family vacations. He wanted the whole goddamn package!
Scraping onto every ounce of strength he could find, Cian finally managed to force his heavy eyelids open. He found himself staring up at the tearstained face of the most beautiful girl in the world—but he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve her. All he knew was that someone out there had given him a second chance, and he was taking it. Grabbing on with both hands and taking the hell out of it.
“Shh,” she whispered against his ear, when he tried to speak. “Shh. Just lie here and heal for a moment. You’re almost there.”
Against his will, his heavy eyelids drifted shut again, and he existed in a strange dreamlike state, not asleep, and yet, not completely awake. Sayre’s mouthwatering scent was all around him, soothing and warm, and he knew his friends were close by, their voices reaching out to him in soft murmurs and broken phrases.
“So she knew he was going to die for her?”
“Never thought it would happen to him.”
“About damn time that it did.”
No shit, his wolf grunted, its gruff laughter echoing in his head.
With a smile on his lips, he let himself go back under, no idea how much time had passed when he next opened his eyes. But he could tell that someone had put a pair of jeans on him, since he was once again in his human form, and Sayre was no longer holding him on her lap. Instead, he was lying on the blood-soaked ground in the middle of the clearing with something soft under his head, and Brody was crouching down beside him, a fierce scowl etched onto the Runner’s scarred face.
“Hey, would you look at this,” Cian croaked. “It’s Broody Brody to the rescue.”
Brody snorted, his green eyes glittering with relief. “Shut up, you lucky jackass.”
Surprised by how good he felt, he managed a lops
ided grin. “I know that look. You want to hug me now, don’t you?”
“I think I’ll leave the hugging to your woman,” the Runner muttered, shaking his head. “But I’m thinking I could probably welcome you back home now without constantly wanting to kick your ass.”
“Thanks, man. You’re all heart,” he said drily.
Brody laughed, and Cian sniffed the air, searching for Sayre’s scent. “Speaking of my woman, where is she?”
Jerking his chin toward his right, Brody said, “Right over there, giving your old man hell.”
“That’s my girl,” he rumbled with pride, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He purposefully kept his head turned away from Aedan’s body, not wanting to see it. Though he definitely didn’t regret what he’d done, knowing it was the only way, it wouldn’t be a sight he could stomach.
As if he’d read his mind, Brody lowered his voice so that no one else could hear him. “She saved you, man. Brought you back from a one-way trip to Hell. And you were ready to spend eternity there to protect her. I...I don’t know what to say to that exactly, except that I’m happy for you. You went all in, Cian, and you came out breathing on the other side. Now you can leave the past in the past, where it belongs, and move forward by having a kick-ass life with your little witch.”
“You know, when you put it like that, I’m pretty fucking happy for me, too.”
“Yeah, I can see that you are.” A low laugh rumbled up from the Runner’s chest as he eyed Cian’s smile. “Christ, that girl has you so wrapped around her little finger.”
“That’s only fair, since I plan on keeping her wrapped around certain parts of me pretty much twenty-four seven.”
“Watch it, Cian.” Jillian’s laughing voice came from somewhere behind him. “That’s my baby sister you’re talking about.”
“And she’s my woman,” he said with a wealth of satisfaction, watching her giving his old man absolute hell for not doing anything to help him during the fight. No matter what, the little witch was always fighting for him—fighting for them—and he knew there were going to be some serious changes taking place in his life, the first being that he was going to stop buying his own bullshit. Because he finally got it.
Anyone could walk away. Anyone. But it took a real man to face the truth and accept that one little slip of a girl held his entire world in her hands. The smartest, sexiest, most incredible girl there was.
“And she’s ours,” he growled under his breath.
About. Fucking. Time.
He gave a low laugh, agreeing with the beast completely.
Needing to hold her more than he needed his next breath, he managed to push himself up on his knees, and while he was a bit shaky, it was a goddamn miracle he was alive. Suddenly, kneeling in the middle of that godforsaken clearing, he realized something that was pretty damn important. For the first time, he saw, and actually believed, that everything really did happen for a reason. All the pain and heartbreak and fear and loss. He’d spent so many years wishing he could undo it all, but it was those things that had brought him here, to this point. Made him who he was. If he’d been different, fate might have never chosen him for Sayre at all, because it was the sum of all those parts of him that made him hers. That put the two pieces of them together, clicking them into one.
Each decision and step they’d made had led them to this point.
Every single goddamn one of them.
It was the kind of thing that could twist your brain into a pretzel if you thought about it for too long, and he didn’t need to waste his time. He wasn’t fighting this outcome. No, he was grabbing on to it as hard and as tight as he could, and holding on forever.
Holding on to her. His woman. His beautiful little bad-ass witch.
He didn’t care what Colin Hennessey or anyone else thought of what he was about to do. The only person who mattered was Sayre, and Cian knew she would understand the symbolism behind the way he started crawling toward her on his hands and knees. Before his father and friends and God, he was humbling himself for her, making it clear to one and all that he would crawl after her over any distance, for any amount of time, until he finally had her in the end.
She ran toward him the instant she caught sight of him, tears streaming down her flushed face, and he moved to his knees again so that he could catch her against him, his head tilting back as he stared up at her, getting lost in those big, beautiful eyes. “You’re mine,” he told her, his big hands gripping her hips. “That means I’m never letting you go, Sayre.”
He couldn’t stop the slow, satisfied smile that lifted the corner of his mouth when she dropped to her knees before him. “It’s about time you said that.”
“And?” he murmured.
She blinked, looking adorably confused. “And what?”
“There’s something else it’s about damn time that I said to you.” Looking her right in the eye so that she would know just how much he meant it, he cupped her precious, tear-drenched face in his palms, and told her, “I love you, Sayre.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered, crying even harder. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
He could hear his father bitching from somewhere behind her about how he was making a spectacle of himself and that real men didn’t grovel, but Cian just tuned out the jackass, unwilling to let him intrude on this moment. Then he heard Jeremy mutter, “You know, I didn’t think it was possible for someone to be an even bigger pain in the ass than Cian. But I was wrong. His old man sucks.” He snickered under his breath. “That’s kinda fitting, I guess, seeing as how he’s a vampire.”
“Seriously?” Carla asked. “You’re making jokes now?”
“You know what Jeremy’s like,” Mason murmured. “The End of Days could be here and he’d still be laughing it up.”
“Speaking of jokes,” Cian said, raising his voice so the group could hear him, “when we get home, I want my cabin stripped down to the baseboards, ready for Sayre and me to make it the way we want it.”
Jeremy snickered again. “I think we can manage that. But what do you want us to do with all the green shit?”
Keeping his eyes locked tight on Sayre, unwilling to look away from the love he could see shining there in that smoky, smoldering blue, Cian grinned as he lowered his voice and said, “Let’s ship it over here. I’m betting my old man would love it.”
The others all laughed, but he was already sipping from Sayre’s soft lips, her sweet taste fueling him with energy, making him feel like he could take on the entire bloody world. But the world would have to be taken on by someone else. All he cared about taking was her—as hard and as often as she’d let him—and he couldn’t wait a goddamn second more.
“Let’s get out of here,” he growled against her hot little mouth as he quickly moved to his feet with her in his arms and carried her away from their cheering friends, up to the bachelor’s house, his body growing stronger with each step that he took. He felt as though he’d existed in two parts: the man he’d been before he started to see clearly, who wanted to put his hands around fate’s throat and squeeze the life out of him. And then this one, who was ready to embrace the shit out of that fucker and thank him for making this incredible woman a part of his life, because he wouldn’t change it for anything.
Seriously. Not a single goddamn thing.
Though they managed to make it through the front door, they didn’t get any farther than the entryway before their desire got the better of them and they went wild on each other.
“Shit,” he muttered, dropping down on his knees, his hands digging into her sweet little ass as she wrapped herself around him like a vine. “I’m still covered in blood, baby.”
“Don’t care,” she gasped, kissing her way up the side of his throat, her lips and tongue driving him mad, while practically all the blood left in his body shot south, h
ardening his cock to the point of pain.
“Damn it, Sayre.” His voice was raw and graveled with need. “You deserve better than this.”
She pulled back just far enough that she could smirk at him. “Blood is a part of your life and it always will be. Which means it’s a part of mine, too. So I doubt this is the last time we’ll go to bed bloody.”
“We’re not even in a bed,” he grunted, coming down over her as he laid her back on the hardwood floor. His right hand fisted in her silky hair, while his left one settled on her waist, his thumb stroking the soft skin on her belly.
With a devilish light in her eyes, she said, “I don’t care about that, either.” Then she lifted her head, nipped the edge of his jaw with her teeth and asked him, “Are you hungry for me, Cian?”
“Starved,” he groaned, ripping at her clothes so that he could get to that soft, bare skin underneath. “And too damn desperate to wait, Sayre.”
“Good,” she said with a wealth of satisfaction that made him feel like he could level a bloody mountain for her, if that’s what she wanted. What she needed.
“Tell me you’re happy, and mean it,” he said in a rough, breathless rasp, as he shoved her shirt up over her head, then quickly got rid of her lacy bra. “Because I can’t let you go, Sayre. I did it once and it killed me inside each day. I can’t do it again.”
“You won’t have to,” she told him, running her greedy hands over every part of him she could reach, her delicious scent only getting richer with the rise of her need. “You aren’t ever getting rid of me, and happy doesn’t even begin to describe how freaking good I feel.”
“Thank God,” he groaned, pressing his parted lips against the center of her chest.
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