Chapter 12
The sun rose high over the hill, casting a warm glow over the rolling hills and meadows. It was one of those rare days in the English winter where the sky was blue and clear.
Unfortunately, the stunning weather did nothing to soothe Ciaran's mood as he walked down the long drive, approaching a tall man standing in front of Mon Ciel's gate. The man carried Madeline in his arms.
In the darkest corner of Ciaran's mind, he wanted what his father had warned him against for so many years: destruction.
He thirsted for blood.
His need to destroy was as tenacious as his passion to create. Throughout his whole life, he had strived to maintain a balance between destruction and creation. That balance was off kilter now, tilted toward the negative.
He knew Tadgh and Jo trailed behind h
