I hesitate. I don’t want to tell her that he knows.
“Take me with you,” she whispers, cutting me off.
I have to, but I hesitate. Leaving her here leaves her vulnerable. Bringing her with me…
“If it's important, I want to be part of your life, Ashland. Not just someone you hide away.”
She looks away from me, and I know without her saying it that this is a wound she carries. Someone else made her feel small, unwanted, and kept in the shadows.
Every instinct screams at me to say no, to keep her separate from the violence, the politics, and whatever complications come next. But Crowning's already looking for her, already making this personal. Hiding her here—if he traces her to me, if he finds this place while I'm gone…
No.
She's safer with me.
“You need to get dressed,” I tell her.
Her face lights up like I just promised her the world. “Really? You mean it?” She grins, and Christ, she's so fucking beautiful it hurts. “Really, Ashland?”
“Aye. You're coming with me, but you have to listen to me, lass.” I cup her face, making sure she sees howserious I am. “We're in danger—you and me both. I can't risk anything happening to you. Do you understand?”
“Aye,” she says with a sad smile. “But I feel safe with you. I know you won’t let anyone hurt me. I mean, I don't want you to think I'm using you?—”
“Stop.” I silence her with a kiss, my lips claiming hers. I cup the back of her head and give us half a minute just to breathe each other in. She trusts me. I love her. Thathasto be enough.
It will be.
“Seamus said thirty minutes,” I whisper. “We have to go. Now.”
I pull back, my voice low and rough. “Let's go. I'll fight for you, Bianca. I won't let him touch you.” I frame her face with both hands, forcing her to hold my gaze. “They're taking on a fight they didn't ask for because of me, but I love you. Do you hear me? I can't—” My jaw clenches. “I already lost someone I loved to this world. I won't lose you too.”
Her eyes widen as she nods and swallows hard.
“You’ll tell me,” she whispers, as if testing the words. “But not now. Alright?”
“Aye.”
“You love me,” she says. “You really do, don’t you?”
“Aye, lass. I loved you every day I watched you. I love youso much it's made me a monster—one who takes you and tells himself it's for protection.”
Tears well in her eyes, catching the morning light.
“You don't have to say it back,” I continue quickly. “I know what this is, what I am. Trauma bonding, Stockholm syndrome, whatever the fuck a therapist would call it. But it doesn't change how I feel?—”
“You're an idiot,” she says, then silences me with a kiss. It's soft and sweet and tastes like forgiveness. When she pulls back, she's smiling through her tears. “I love you too. I don't care what anybody else calls it. I know I made the choice to be here.”
I blow out a shaky breath and kiss her forehead, still cradling her face. “Christ, I don't deserve you.” I force myself to step back. “We have to go. Now. Seamus is waiting.”
“Aye,” she says, moving toward the bedroom. Then she pauses, glancing back at me with uncertainty in her dark eyes. “Ashland… what if your family doesn't like me?”
I can't help the rough laugh that escapes. “Are you fucking kidding me? Of course they will. It's like asking what if they don't likesunshine.”
She gives me a half smile, ducks her head with a blush, and disappears into the bedroom.
I pull out my phone, checking the time. If we leave now, we can make it to the family house in forty minutes. Thirty-five ifI push it.
A text comes through from Seamus.
