The blow landed where it was meant to.
Isla.
Pity.
Guilt.
The old ruin dragged into the present and twisted until it made him him.
For one violent instant, Ciaran saw another wedding broken open, another bride tied forever to slaughter, another version of himself drowning in blood and smoke and not yet strong enough to answer any of it.
Then Jack moved, and Ciaran did not need memory anymore. He met him hard.
Bastard.
Jack lunged fast, his blade aiming for the opening near his ribs, but Ciaran knocked it aside with enough force to smash his bones.
They clashed and turned through trampled flowers and overturned benches, through the wreck of the sacred space now made ugly by shouting men and blood underfoot.
Jack fought like a creature long practiced in treachery, fast and dirty and viciously willing to use the chaos around him. Ciaran fought with only one aim: to end a threat.
And that was the difference.
The ground dipped beneath Jack’s boot, and Ciaran took that opportunity. He drove forward, forcing him back a step. Somewhere at his rear, he heard Ava’s breath catch.
Nay.
She was too close. And the way Jack continued to stare at her only proved one thing—he was not joking when he had made that threat earlier.
An eye for an eye.
Jack twisted sideways and feinted left. Ciaran followed, too intent on the blade to miss the second strike until the last instant. It was not meant for him. It was meant for Ava.
“Ciaran!” Ava screamed behind him.
Before a single thought could form in his head, he moved. He stepped between them and took the blow to the shoulder.
A wave of hot pain tore through him immediately. It wasn’t deep enough to make him fall, but it was real enough to make his vision go white for a beat. He heard Ava gasp, and when he turned his head, he saw dark blood spread across the white of her wedding dress.
Hisblood.
On her.
Something in him went utterly still, and the memory flashed once again. Another wedding marked by blood and another bride standing in it.
Jack smiled, his eyes gleaming with nothing but utter evil. “Aye. There ye are.”
Ciaran straightened. The pain and the noise remained. Even the wreck around him remained. But then realization dawned. Jack wasn’t going to stop. Not until he was fully satisfied, and the only way that was happening was by killing Ava.
Suddenly, the pain and noise around him fell away. All that was left was the cold inside him.Dark, bottomless cold.
“I’m bored with this game,” he said, his voice dropping as low as his emotions.
Jack’s smile faltered. “What are ye?—”
Before he could finish, Ciaran moved.
The end of the fight was swift. All it took was one savage clash of steel, then the final strike, hard and certain and without flourish. Ciaran swung his blade and drove it into Jack’s chest.
