Derek smirked and followed, like a moth to the flame. “Still think you’re so fucking tough, huh?” His voice was oil-slick and sickening. “After all these years, you still don’t get it. You’ll always be mine.”
Cian’s vision went red.
No, he’s fucking not.
Reaper is mine.
Reaper lunged past Derek, giving Cian the distraction he was waiting for. As Derek’s mocking laughter turned into a snarl, he twisted and grabbed for Reaper’s arm, fingers digging into the bandaged wound there. Pain flared white hot down the bond, and Cianroared. The sound tore from his throat as he slammed his hand through the Fianna Door.
The magic burned like a mix of the coldest ice and the hottest of fire, but he didn’t care. His fingers closed around the fabric on the back of Derek’s shirt, and he yanked hard.
Derek screamed as the veil sucked him through, his body hitting the ground on Tír na nÓg’s side with a bone-jarringthud. Derek gasped, scrambling back, his face a mask of terror as he took in the towering stones, the eerie glow of the fairy realm, the warrior looming over him.
“You dare touch what is mine.” Cian didn’t give him time to breathe, never mind figure out what was going on. His boot connected with Derek’s ribs, the crack of bone loud in the still night. Derek wheezed, curling in on himself, but Cain wasn’t done. Failinis wasn’t done. Not even close.
“You.” He kicked him again, this time aiming for the asshole’s gut, sending him skidding across the damp earth. “Touched.” He stomped with his heel on Derek’s hand, breaking the fingers that had caused such pain. “My.” A backhanded slap sent Derek’s head snapping to the side with blood spraying from his split lip. “Mate.”
Derek tried to crawl away, his breath coming in ragged, wet gasps. “W-what the fuck?—”
Cian crouched, grabbed a handful of Derek’s hair, and yanked his head back until their faces were only inches apart. Close enough that Derek could see the fire in his eyes and the rage in his wolf. “You think I don’t know what you did to him?” he asked. “That I do not know about every scar, every bruise, and every day you stole his peace from him?”
Derek’s laugh was weak and bloody. “He liked it.”
Cian’s free hand flashed out, and he sank his dagger into Derek’s thigh. The man shrieked in pain, but Cian held him still, twisting the blade before wrenching it free. “No,” he said, almost conversationally. “He survived it. He survived you.”
He stood, dragging Derek up with him by his hair, and started carving into his skin. Every cut was deliberate, each one mirrored scars he’d traced on his Grá Croí’s body.
The shallow slice across Derek’s shoulders.
“For the belt.”
The deep gouge in his arm.
“For the smoke stick.”
The jagged X over his heart.
“For the words he carries in his heart.”
Derek sobbed, his body ruined, his breath coming in wet, rattling gasps. “P-please?—”
Cian tilted his head, studying the pathetic thing at his feet. Then he turned to Reaper. “Cú Chulainn said I wasn’t allowed to kill on that side of the door.” He crouched again, gripping Derek’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “He said nothing about this one.”
Derek’s eyes widened, and Cian let Failinis free.
The shift ripped through him, fast and more brutal than normal. He relished the pain as his bones cracked and his skin split. Failinis surged forward and Derek screamed, the sound high and terrified, as the massive wolf descended on him and ripped out his throat.
Failinisshook,and blood sprayed everywhere. The wet, sickeningpopof Derek’s spine snapping echoed throughout the clearing. His body went limp, but Failinis worried at the corpse, his massive jaws clamping down on Derek’s skull, twisting until it cracked and the head came free. He dropped it, lifted his muzzle to the sky, and howled, the sound triumphant, savage, a promise to the moon and the stars and to his Grá Croí.
Mine.
The bond sang in response. Reaper’s relief and dark, vicious satisfaction flooded through him, mixing with his own. Failinis turned, his glowing eyes locking onto his mate. For a second, they just looked at each other, then Reaper’s knees gave out.
Cian shifted back in a rush, catching him before he hit the ground, pulling him close. Reaper’s body was shaking, his breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts, but his hands fisted in Cian’s tunic, holding on like he was the only thing keeping him from drowning.
“He’s—” Reaper swallowed, his voice gone raw. “He’s…Failinis…wow.”
Cian pressed his forehead to Reaper’s, his own hands slick with blood. Derek’s blood, the cunt’s blood, the blood of a man who would never hurt his man again. “Yeah, sorry you had to see that. Failinis do be pretty angry.”
