Saoirse
I shoved Cain away the moment I caught Cyrus’s scent—the crisp burn of pinewood and something darker, possessive, untamed. My body stilled, then betrayed me completely. My breath hitched. My soul cracked.
Cain’s arms tightened, his breath hot on my neck. “He’s not here for you,” he whispered like it meant something. Like it ever mattered.
I shoved him again, harder this time, my voice trembling. “Let me go.”
Then I saw him.
Cyrus.
He was already turning, walking away, his shoulders stiff—like he hadn’t just seen me in his brother’s arms. Like my betrayal didn’t mean a damn thing to him.
But I knew him. That blank expression? That was his rage wearing a mask.
“Cyrus,” I called out, my voice a broken whisper. My legs moved before I could think. I ran after him, heart pounding
