Page 125 of Deceived Wrath

When Fiona doesn’t say anything, I turn around.

Her gaze has drifted somewhere far away from my office.

When she finally speaks, her voice is barely louder than a whisper. “My sister died a year ago.”

I straighten, taken aback not just by the confession, but by the quiet trust in her words, as if she knows I can bear this weight with her.

“She was everything to me, until…” Her voice catches and I find myself crossing back over to her on instinct.

“I’m sorry.” I sit down beside her, close enough that our thighs brush against each other.

Fiona tries to shrug it off, but the gesture is too tight, too strained.

“It’s just… When you talked about Scout and trying to keep him safe… I get it. I get that fear.”

And that’s when it hits me, why I’ve been drawn to her since the moment she stepped foot in my office. In this house. Not because she’s pretty or because she challenges me, but because she’s cracked in the same way I am.

We understand loss in the same language.

Without thinking, I reach over and touch her hand.

She goes still, and her breath catches, but she doesn’t pull away.

As our eyes meet, a silent question lingers in them that she doesn’t dare speak out loud. But I answer it anyway.

I pull her gently toward me, and the second her body presses against mine, something inside me snaps. I tilt her chin up and kiss her, so softly that our lips barely touch.

She gasps as her fingers sink into my shirt, pulling me closer as I deepen the kiss. “Cormac.”

My hand slides to her waist, pulling her closer as I drag my mouth along her jaw. Every part of me floods with heat and want and?—

“Daddy?”

I jerk back, my heart hammering in my chest, as Scout appears in the doorway, rubbing at his eyes.

Fiona’s face flushes crimson as she tries to gently untangle herself from me, and I let her go, forcing my breathing back under control.

I clear my throat. “Hey, buddy. What are you doing up?”

“I had a bad dream. You weren’t there.”

Guilt gnaws at me as I glance at Fiona, but she refuses to meet my gaze.

“I’m right here.” I get to my feet and quickly scoop him up, settling him against my chest.

His head drops instantly to my shoulder, and I sneak another quick glance at Fiona.

This time, she looks at me, giving me an understanding smile.

“I’ll be right back.” I carry Scout down the hall to his room, his little arms wrapped loosely around my neck.

“Sing,” he mumbles when I lay him in his bed.

I hesitate, just for a second.

Singing has always made me feel too exposed. It was something I only did for Nadia when she couldn’t sleep, and then Scout in the early days after his mother’s death.

It used to bring me quiet joy. But that was before…