“And you can't stay up every night for the rest of your life,” I say, the words escaping before I can stop them.
His head whips toward me. “Bianca?—”
“It's true.” I touch his shoulder, feeling the tension coiled in his muscles. “You barely sleep, Ashland. You're exhausted, a damn zombie. You can't keep living like this.”
“I'm fine.”
“You're not.”
The silence falls, charged with the weight of truth that neither of us wants to acknowledge.
“They’ve been begging you to return to the ring,” Seamus says quietly. “We could make a show of it. Ashland McCarthy’s big return. Not afraid of anyone or anything.”
Ashland nods and sits up straighter. “I’d fucking love to go back to the ring.”
“Then go to the ring,” Seamus says into the quiet. “We'll go with you. We'll spread the word, won't we? Post on socials. The girls keep family accounts now.” He smirks. “Let Crowning see that you're coming. Draw him out of fucking hiding.”
“You can usemeas bait—” I start.
“We talked about that.No,” Ashland insists.
“I want to end this,” Seamus says, meeting my eyes. “But Ashland's right—you don't come near it.” He turns back to his cousin. “You can put yourself on the hook, lad. You know I'm right. We bring the fight to him on our terms. We fucking finish this. Then you can have yourpeace. You can actuallylivewith her instead of just surviving.”
“I don’t want him hurt by Crowning, Seamus,” Nolan adds.
“I won’t,” Ashland insists. “I’ll wipe the fucking ground?—”
“Won’t lose another son, Ash.” The room is quiet for a beat before Seamus speaks up.
“Aye. We won’t let that happen.”
Ashland is silent for a long moment, his mind clearly racing through scenarios and contingencies. “Fine,” he says finally. Then he looks at me, dominance flashing in his eyes, making my breath catch. “But you—you arenotcoming.”
“Ashland—”
“No. Absolute.Final. This isnotup for discussion, Bianca.”
Heat flashes through me. “I should have a say?—”
“You don't.” He grabs my jaw, firm but not painful. “Not in this. Never in this.”
“You can't just decide?—”
“I can. I am.” His eyes bore into mine. “I will go, but you'll stay here, where you're safe. And you will obey me in this.”
The wordobeysends liquid heat pooling in my belly, even as my mind rebels against the command. “That's not fair.”
“I don't care about fair.” He leans in closer, his voice dropping. “I care about keeping you alive. And if that means you hate me for it, I'll live with it.”
“I don't hate you—” It comes out breathier than intended. “But I don't think it's fair.”
I shiver, torn between wanting to argue and wanting to submit to the absolute certainty in his voice. Part of me wants to stay safe. I don't want to see him hurt in the ring. I don't want to be where Crowning can reach me.
“Lass has spirit,” Seamus says, approval clear in his voice. “But Ash is right, Bianca. This is too dangerous.”
“We'll keep her safe,” Nolan says, his tone brooking no argument. “You have my word.”
Seamus nods. “It's settled, then. Two days. Ashland fights. We draw Crowning out. We fucking end this.”
