His face was grave as he looked into my eyes. “I think I might have found a way to fix this.”
I hesitated before I asked, “Cillian—Cian—O'Callaghan?”
He blinked at me, reminding me of an owl. Then he took me by the shoulders. He wanted to say something, but it seemed like he was having a hard time finding the words.
It scared me to the bones. I had a feeling he was about to start the conversation with…if I don’t come back…
Instead, he squeezed my shoulders, gave me a hard kiss on the forehead, and left.
Chapter3
Cian
Snow came down in thick sheets outside the window. From the way the trees bowed, the wind was harsh, and the storm was gainin’ strength.
I heard nothin’. Felt nothin’.
I was buried deep in the ground, and the world around me was muted.
A continuation of that night my parents and siblin’ were slaughtered.
The only time I came alive was when I killed one of them.
One of them.
Craig’s men.
When I did, I had arms and legs. Hands and feet. My lungs took in air, and blood pumped through my veins.
The kid inside of me awoke from the slumber they had put me in, but it was the beast who opened his eyes.
I lived for revenge and nothin’ else.
My hands had been killin’ his men since I was fifteen. Every time he would send one to look for the gold, I’d hand him the same fate that had been handed to those who belonged to me.
Death.
I’d continue to kill until the Craigs were destroyed or they lowered me into the ground.
Boston called me the Beast. That was exactly what I’d become. Only movin’ when the scent of tainted blood wafted underneath my nose. Nothin’ else could get me to budge.
The rest of the world was dead to me.
Footsteps pounded along the wooden floor before a form shimmered against the glass door and Keenan entered.
He tilted some, about to knock. He’d lost a toe a few months after my parents were killed. He was cuttin’ grass and not wearin’ the proper shoes. Fiona lost a finger with one of her knives. Henry an ear when a small dog ripped it off. All odd occurrences, especially Fiona’s accident. She was skilled. They all believed in the curse the old woman had cast and were hopin’ I’d find true love soon.
Hope waisted.
I barely had any thoughts, except to strategize so I could destroy the one thing that kept me alive.
The enemy.
Love didn’t exist for me.
But Keenan, Fiona, and Henry had been trusted by my parents, and that trust had proven to be true. Keenan was sharp with a bow and arrow. Fiona with knives. Henry with explosives. His wife, Beatrice, with the poisons she cooked up. We’d trapped and hunted Craig’s’ men together. I let them go on about the curse because I respected them, but love was a fairy tale only fools believe in.
Out of our entire gang, I was closest to Keenan, just as my father had been. That was why I chose him to represent me. His face and voice doubled as mine when the name Cian Cillian O'Callaghan was spoken. I stood next to him, but as silent as a dead man.
