Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
But Domhn’s place is ridiculous in a different way—all sleek lines and sharp angles and more security than the Pentagon. It’s a fortress disguised as a modern architectural wet dream. He moved again after everything went down. I know he keeps hoping that if MadAnna comes back—no, when she comes back—he doesn’t want her to worry about being in danger ever again.
“Stop bouncing your leg,” Bane murmurs, his hand settling on my knee like a warm anchor.
I hadn’t even realized I was doing it. I glance down at his fingers splayed across my skin, and something inside me settles. Just a little. Just enough.
“Sorry,” I whisper back, but there’s no real apology in it, and we both know it.
Bane’s lips twitch. “No, you’re not.”
“Nope.” I pop the ‘P’ because I know it amuses him.
Across the room, Domhn is pacing. Again. He hasn’t stopped since we arrived twenty minutes ago. Back and forth, like a caged tiger. Is this just what he does all the time now?
Isaak watches him with the patience of, well, Isaak, while bouncing his and Kira’s four-month-old daughter on his knee.
Baby Lily is a squishy, perfect little thing with Kira’s eyes and Isaak’s perpetual look of mild concern. She’s got a jumble of dark curls and the kind of cheeks you just want to nom nom nom on.
“Would you sit the fuck down?” I call to my brother. “You’re making me dizzy.”
Domhn glares at me. “I’ll sit down when I feel like sitting down.”
Bane’s fingers squeeze my knee in warning. I ignore him. “So... never, then? You gonna just wear a trench in your fancy floor by the time MadAnna gets back?”
“Moira,” Kira interjects, her voice that perfect blend of gentle and firm that only seems to work when she uses it. “Let’s give him some space.”
I flop back against the couch with a huff. “Fine.”
It’s hard to believe it’s been three months since Bane and I reunited. Three months of figuring out this new us. Three months of learning how to be together again, but differently.
I fidget with the gold band on my finger—the proper one Bane got me after we returned from England and sorted out all the legal bullshit with his father’s estate. He officially said goodbye to his congregation, though he remains ordained. All his time is spent heading his new charity board as we work to give away the billions left in the trust after the inheritance was distributed. It’s still weird being married to a billionaire.
No, scratch that. It’s weird being married, period.
Me. Moira fucking Callaghan. Settled.
Well, as settled as I get these days.
“She’ll come back,” I say suddenly, because I can’t help myself. Someone’s gotta say something. The silence is unbearable. “MadAnna. She always does.”
Domhn stops pacing just long enough to skewer me with a look. “It’s been nine months, Moira.”
“And? She disappeared for what—a whole year last time? And still came back.”
“That was different.” He speaks through his teeth, neck veins strained.
“Was it, though?”
Bane’s hand slides subtly up my thigh. A squeeze. A warning. Don’t push too hard.
But pushing is what I do. It’s what I’ve always done. Being medicated doesn’t change that; it just... smooths out the edges. Makes the pushing less erratic, maybe.
That’s the thing nobody tells you about meds. They don’t fix you. They don’t even change you, not really. They just make you more... manageable. Less likely to fly off the handle or buy a one-way ticket to Bali on a Tuesday at three a.m.
Sometimes, I miss that wild, careening freedom. The way the world used to feel so sharp and bright it cut my retinas.
But then I look at Bane, and I remember the way his eyes went dark with terror that day I told him I was leaving. The way his hands trembled when he found me again. And I think maybe... maybe this middle ground isn’t so bad.
“Do you want some wine?” Kira asks, already heading for the kitchen. She’s gotten so good at defusing tension. I wonder if that’s a side effect of living with Isaak, the human equivalent of a controlled explosion.
“God, yes,” I reply, ignoring the way Bane’s eyebrows lift slightly.
What? I’m allowed. The meds don’t play nice with too much alcohol, but one glass won’t kill me.
Probably.
Domhn finally stops pacing and drops into a chair, his head falling into his hands. I’ve never seen my brother like this. So utterly demolished. It’s fucking unsettling. Domhn has always been the solid one. The mountain. The absolute immovable object to my unstoppable force.
“She’s coming back,” I say again, softer this time. “She loves you.”
He looks up, eyes red-rimmed. “You don’t know that.”
“I do, actually.” I mean it. I might be chaotic, but I know love when I see it. And whatever MadAnna is—assassin, enigma, avenging angel—she loves my brother with a ferocity that rivals my feelings for Bane.