“Two days,” Ashland says, but he's looking at me, not Seamus. “Two days, and this is over.”
His eyes narrow, studying me. “Bianca.”
“What?” I ask innocently.
“Whatever you're thinking, you’re not coming.”
“If you think I’m going to sit at home, doomscrolling onmy phone while you’re facing Marcus in the ring, you’re a fool, Ashland McCarthy.”
“I said you’re not coming, and that’s final.”
I blow out a breath. “Fine.”
His hand slides from my jaw to the back of my neck, his fingers threading through my hair with possessive gentleness. “Don't lie to me.”
“I'm not.”
He studies me for a long moment, and I refuse to look away, even as my pulse quickens under his scrutiny.
“We'll discuss this later,” he finally says, the promise in his voice making my stomach flutter.
“I'll be looking forward to it,” I say sweetly.
His da laughs outright. “She's got your number, lad.”
“Aye,” Ashland says, never looking away from me. “That she does.”
His parents leave shortly after, and the moment the door closes behind them, Ashland's hands are on me.
“Upstairs.” My heartbeat thunders.
Ashland doesn't say a word as he leads me upstairs, his hand firm around my wrist. Not painful, but unyielding. My heart hammers against my ribs—part anticipation, part trepidation.
The bedroom door closes with a soft click that sounds thunderous in the silence.
“Ashland—”
“No.” His voice is low and controlled, dangerous in its calm. “You don't get to talk right now, lass. You get to listen.”
“Is that right?” I cross my arms on my chest. This may be a side of Ashland I haven’t seen before, and I’m not quite sure how I feel about it. I’m a bundle of nerves.
He sits on the edge of the bed, and my breath catches when I see him unbuckle his belt with deliberate slowness. His thick, rough fingers make quick work of it. The leather slides free with a whisper of sound that makes heat pool low in my belly, even as nervousness flutters in my chest.
“Comehere.”
It's not a request.
My feet move before my brain catches up, carrying me to stand between his knees. He looks up at me, and the intensity in his silver eyes makes my knees weak.
“You agreed you wouldn't put yourself in danger,” he says quietly. “And the second my back's turned, you're already planning something reckless. I can see it in those pretty eyes of yours.”
“I wasn't?—”
His hand comes up, one finger pressing gently against my lips. “What did I say about talking? And lying will make this far worse for you. You ought to know that by now.”
I fall silent, my pulse racing.
“That's better.” His hands move to my hips, turning me with gentle firmness until I'm facing away from him. “Here's what's going to happen,mo chroí. You're going to take your punishment like a good girl, and then we're going to discuss why you don't get to throw yourself in Crowning's path. Understand?”
