CILLIAN
Power was a heady thing that gets into your head far too quickly than you’d realize, and it’s not a hangover that one can shrug off the next morning with little pills. On the contrary, it becomes addicting with the passage of time. I had felt that kind of power the day I dared to stand up against my father and drove a knife through his treacherous heart without a morsel of regret or an ounce of fear.
I knew I was right. That if I had not stepped up that day, I would have regretted my entire life.
Since then, I didn’t cower before anyone. Neither did I ever happen to meet anyone who could stand up to me. Until Kiera.
She rolled into my life like a storm I had invited in on a cold winter day, the air crackling with static and the gush of wind blasting through my windows and sha
