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“Storm’s coming,” Cian said as he walked up to Eamonn’s side. “And you’re still standing at the top of your castle leaning over an edge that could crumble at any moment.” “Would it be such a loss?” “No. We’d get along just fine without you, but I’d have to dig a new hole in the garden, and I hadn’t planned on doing that until next spring.”
In that moment, she gutted him. No one had looked at him like a person in such a long time, without pity or fear. She just opened her eyes and smiled at him. As if he was finally where he belonged.
“I notice everything you do. You haunt my steps and my dreams. You’ve bewitched me, Sorcha, and I want my soul back.”
