Page 186 of Twisting Beauty

But he didn’t come up.

He was too heavy.

The sobs came out of me before I could stop them, my chest heaving against the window frame.

I couldn’t save him.

Deargán who had saved me.

Deargán who had warned me about Rua. About Lorcan. Deargán who had been right about them.

And now he was going to die because I wouldn’t listen.

Because I had chosen my heart over my head. Because I had trusted Lorcan over him.

Pain ripped up through my chest so violently that my ribs locked, the back of my throat closing around my vocal cords like a fist.

Deargán’s hand squeezed mine softly. It’s okay.

A wooden beam cracked like a gunshot somewhere above his head. Plaster came down between us.

“Listen to me,” he rasped.

I shook my head. I was still pulling. I was still pulling.

“I’m sorry for lying to you.” His voice came out broken, coughing between words. “For keeping Rua from you. I thought I was protecting you.”

A sob tore out of me. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

His mouth softened into a sad smile. “Perhaps you already did.”

The ceiling groaned above him, low and animal. His gaze snapped up. “Get back.”

His fingers loosened in mine.

No.

My hand refused to open. My fingers refused.

No, no, no.

My whole body locked around his hand, every muscle screaming at me to keep pulling. Not to let go.

His eyes held mine through the smoke. “Liath, please, I need you alive.”

A sob tore out of me as I forced my fingers to open. One at a time. Letting go of him felt like ripping myself in two.

His hand slipped out of mine.

The far corner of the ceiling crashed down behind him and a blast of heat seared across my face.

“Get vengeance for me,” he yelled through the billow of thick smoke.

I stumbled back from the window as the ceiling collapsed, as heat blasted across my face hard enough to scorch my eyelashes.

As the whole carriage house came down on top of him.

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