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Damaged souls have their own beauty. A dark, terrifying beauty. The same type of beauty I recognize in Ronan.
His cheeks flush pink every time I look his way, and then his jaw strains with the force of his anger. It makes me want him in ways I shouldn’t. It makes my heart stop and start every time he walks into the room. Like a rusty old engine, I’m in disrepair, and I feel like this stranger is the only mechanic for the job.
One thing I know for certain is that this killer—the Reaper—isn’t my white knight. In fact, I very well suspect he may even be the villain in this story. Because if Blaine ever finds out how I feel, it will certainly be the death of me.
Ronan. The biggest fucking liar of them all. Pretending like he doesn’t give a shit. Acting like he doesn’t see the way I look at him, or the way he looks at me, for that matter. He wishes I would disappear because I’m his biggest regret. And still, my heart beats for him.
He’s the man who shares my secret. The one who holds my life in the palm of his hands. Sometimes I think I could love him. But most of the time, I just hate him for making me weak. For tempting me to stay. For wondering when he’ll finally make good and kill me, too.
don’t know how it’s possible to have feelings that are such opposites. I want to slap him. I want to scream in his face and force him to acknowledge me. His cavalier attitude toward me is worse than any of the pain Blaine ever inflicted on me. I’m not even worth his attention. Not one moment of his...
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My boyfriend is lying dead on the other side of the room where Ronan just killed him. He’s still covered in his blood, and we’re trying to fuck in the aftermath. I’m so broken. So fucked up to want this. I don’t feel anything over the loss of Blaine, but I feel everything with Ronan, and I might die if I don’t have it right now.
The feelings I have for this man at times are unexplainable. I’m drawn to him. I always have been. But this is something else altogether.
He nudges my legs apart and pushes his palm between my thighs like he owns that part of me. Who am I to argue? He does fucking own me. He’s polluted my mind so I can only ever think of him. Only ever want him.
I barely have time to grasp what the commotion is about before someone tackles me and hoists me over their shoulder.
“Ronan?” I squeak. “Put me down!”
“I’ll fucking kill ye if you ever look at her like that again,” he snarls.
“He’s having a wank right there in the bloody pit,” Ronan shouts. “He was looking at her.” His words come out broken between bursts of harsh breaths. “My woman,” he says. “He tried to touch her, and—”
He isn’t at all sweet. But if I wanted sugar, I’d eat a fucking cupcake.
If it were anyone else, I’d be pissed. But instead, I’m so fucking wet for him I want him to take me. He’s so out of control; he can’t help himself, and I love it when he’s like this. Harsh and dirty. I want him to use me up. I want him to toss me around and take me however he wants. The sex is so much hotter with Ronan because feelings are involved. I care about this man, and I want to serve him right here in this dirty hallway.
“How do you look at me like that and make me forget everything? You betrayed me. You’re mad because of what I did to protect you, but you didn’t protect me at all. You told Lachlan our secret, and I’m the one who should be angry. I’m so fucking angry with you.”
“Nobody else gets to see you like that,” he declares. “Ye’re claimed.”
His words douse me in gasoline. His eyes light the match. And when he grinds himself against me, all that’s left to do is burn for him.
Ronan Fitzpatrick is an iceberg. He only shows the world the smallest and safest parts of himself. But inside, underneath, is a wealth of hidden discoveries. I want to know them all.
“Has anyone else had you, Ronan?” I croak. “Have you ever fucked anyone the way you fuck me?”
“No,” he grunts. “Only you, Sasha.”
“Good,” I reply hoarsely, drunk on the knowledge of my claim. “Because if you ever touch anyone else, I’ll murder them.”
“Come back to me,” I tell him as I smooth my fingers over his face. “Always come back to me. We can slay those demons together.”
“I’ll always look after ye, Sasha,” he says. “Nobody will ever hurt ye again.”
I kiss him because I know he means it. There isn’t a thing on God’s green earth that Ronan Fitzpatrick wouldn’t do to protect me.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says. “Because I love you, Sasha.”
“I love you too, Ronan. I think I always have.”
This man resting on my lap is my whole world. The sun rises and sets with him.
“I love you,” I blurt on a sob. “I love you so frigging much, Ronan. I just don’t know how I’m going to do this. I don’t know if I can handle it.”
“I’ll always come back to ye. Nothing could keep me away.”
“And our child, too.”
Ronan is my life. My breath. My sole reason for existing sometimes. I know it sounds insane, but it’s how I feel. We were put on this earth to find each other. And when he looks at me with those dark brown eyes like he’s doing right now, I know what we have is one of a kind. A supernova. A love so rare, so unparalleled, it shines brighter than any other.
“My anam cara,” we both repeat.
They’re the same words carved into our wedding rings in Ogham script. The words that mean, quite simply, his soul is mated to mine.
My life, my love, my breath. May we always have each other in this life and the next.
He’s the balm to both of our troubles. Our calm in the storm. Whenever she’s upset, all he has to do is hold her, and she’s okay. I know the feeling well.
Whatever fears I had, whatever concerns… they don’t exist anymore. I don’t know if it will always be this way. But what I do know is that Ronan and I will fight to protect what we have.
And God help anyone who ever tries to take that away.
