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it is.ā€ Cian took a step toward her, his features hard in a way that sheā€™d not seen before, the mercenary heā€™d once been bleeding through. ā€œYouā€™ve no right to appear from thin air and discredit who she is. To tell her sheā€™s wrong; to doubt her. Youā€™ve no grounds to destroy her fatherā€”a man she loves and with whom she credits her very survivalā€”simply because you expected to be her savior. I ken your heart is broken, a rį»©nsearc. But youā€™ve no right to break hers in return.ā€

Honor stared at him. Something within her was shriveling, dying, and he thought she was beingā€¦selfish?

Maybe you are.

She damn well didnā€™t care. ā€œHer entire life is a lie. You think Iā€™m supposed to be okay with that?

ā€œNay.ā€ Cian shook his head. ā€œBut if you want to be part of her life, you have to accept it.ā€

ā€œThe hell I do.ā€ Honor turned to fling her clothes inside her pack. She zipped up her laptop and tossed it in. Adrenaline was spearing through her like an illicit drug; the roar of her blood was deafening. ā€˜Till death do us part. Right. ā€œYouā€™re so full of shit.ā€

ā€œWhat did you just say?ā€ Cian asked softly, and although his tone sent a sudden chill spearing through her, she only laughed, a harsh, jagged sound that hurt.

ā€œYou! Youā€™re full of shit. Love and marriage and babies.ā€ She mocked him, her tone cutting, tears burning in her throat. ā€œWhat a line.ā€

ā€œHonor.ā€

Again, she ignored what she heardā€”whatever it was. ā€œIā€™m leaving.ā€

Hard hands gripped her shoulders and swung her around to face him. She didnā€™t want to look into his glittering eyes; inhale the scent of him. Stand in his shadow and watch the pulse tick in his jaw.

Youā€™re such a fool. Fucking fucked. No doubt about it.

ā€œYou can be angry with me for telling you what I think,ā€ he said, so quietly the hair at her nape bristled. ā€œBut have no doubt I meant every word I said last night.ā€

Honor stared up at him, tears turning him into a water blur. ā€œLet me go.ā€

His hands tightened. ā€œSo you can run? Because thatā€™s what you do when it gets hardā€”you run.ā€

She stiffened. ā€œLet. Go.ā€

But his hold only became something to break. ā€œBack to your cold, empty tower where you will hide in the darkness and carve men into pieces.ā€

ā€œFuck you and your judgment,ā€ she grated. ā€œLet me go. Now.ā€

ā€œIā€™m not judging you, a rį»©nsearc.ā€ Cianā€™s hands flexed on her. His jaw was like granite. ā€œIā€™m trying to stop you from doing something you will bitterly regret for the rest of your life. Because I bloody-well care about you, Honor.ā€

She shook her head, and a tear slid down her cheek. So stupid. ā€œLet go.ā€

ā€œLassā€”ā€

ā€œNo,ā€ she said again. ā€œTake your hands off me. Iā€™m leaving.ā€

ā€œJust like that?ā€

ā€œExactly like that.ā€

His hands tightened, and his mouth hardened. For a long, painful moment, he didnā€™t move, and a sob caught in her chest. Too good to be true. Everything always was.

ā€œFine,ā€ he said, his tone clipped. He let her go and stepped back. ā€œI thought you were braver, a rį»©nsearc. Clearly, I was mistaken.ā€

ā€œClearly,ā€ she said. She turned and grabbed her pack, brutally aware that her heart was shattering, deep, jagged fissures that left nothing whole.

When she turned back around, Cian stood staring at her, his eyes glinting, his hands fisted at his sides. His face was cold, the face of the stranger sheā€™d always know he was. Regret and anger churned in her chest; words welled in her throat.

But she didnā€™t speak them. Instead, she swung her pack over her shoulder and did what she did best.

She ran.

Chapter 8

ā€œHeā€™s right, you know.ā€

Honor didnā€™t turn and look at Sam, even though she could feel his gazeā€”patient and steady and without censure. Part of it was because she didnā€™t want to start bawling againā€”which was about all sheā€™d done since flying away from Cian two days agoā€”but mostly it was just shame.

Because Sam wasnā€™t telling her anything she hadnā€™t already figured out for herself. That her inclination to destroy Hannahā€™s self-appointed father was selfish and misguided and would only burn what little remained between her and Hannah to ash.

If anything remained at all.

Because thatā€™s what you do when it gets hardā€”you run.

She flinched. The truth did hurt, she thought.

Like a bitch.

ā€œHonor,ā€ Sam said, his tone gentle but stern.

Sam. Whoā€™d taken one look at her standing in his doorway and demanded, ā€œWhose ass am I kicking?ā€ Whoā€™d pulled her into his arms and his home and told her how glad he was to see her.

And meant it.

Family. All that she had; the sole living person whoā€™d ever given a damn about her.

Then. But not now. And her stupid heart wouldnā€™t let her forget it.

I bloody-well care about you, Honor.

For years the only thing sheā€™d wanted was Hannah, and that want, it had hurt. Every day. But not like thisā€¦ Hannah had been taken, but Cianā€¦

Cian sheā€™d run from. And the regret was bitter and sour, and it threatened to choke her with every breath.

ā€œMaybe he shouldnā€™t have lied to you,ā€ Sam conceded. ā€œBut people fuck up. Hell, if it was me, I wouldnā€™t have told you the truth. You like to think youā€™re calm and logical and reasonable. Truth is, youā€™re reactionary and hot-headed and youā€™d have burned the whole damn place down to the ground without thinking twice.ā€

She flinched again. ā€œNot helping.ā€

ā€œHoney, pride is expensive,ā€ he replied softly. ā€œIā€™m trying to save you some change.ā€

The porch swing beneath them creaked as he moved it back and forth. Samā€™s log home sat nestled in the Cascade foothills, just outside of Silver Bend, Washington, surrounded by a pine forest and thick stands of fluttering aspen. A quiet, peaceful place filled with wild lupine and sleek, caramel-colored elk; the sound of the nearby stream was like a balm to the soul.

She should have visited earlier, and being here now only made her realize what sheā€™d missed. Inside, she could hear Samā€™s fiancĆ© Lucia talking to Ben, their youngest ward, who chattered nonstop, like an excited bird. Lucia, too, had welcomed Honor with open arms, her smile so warm and beautiful, Honor had immediately understood why Sam had fallen head over heels in love.

She couldnā€™t hear Benā€™s brother Alexander, but sheā€™d seen him last night at dinner, his face drawn as he studied her with eyes that saw far too much.

A tragically old soul. And he knew. He knew that three months agoā€”while Sam and Lucia were on the run, fighting to save the boys from the monster who was their fatherā€”that Honor had been the one to share with the world the truth about Donovan Cruzā€”that it was her whoā€™d shown the world what heā€™d doneā€”and in doing so, sheā€™d changed Alexanderā€™s life, for both the better and the worse. It had been unavoidable, and something she would do again, but having to answer for itā€¦that was new.

And unwelcome. Another bitter lesson being served up.

On the flight from Tallinn, somewhere over the Atlantic, Honor had realized that perhaps it was time for Aequitas to fade quietly away. Not that she was done with her workā€”not by a long shotā€”but the identity had become a liability and was no longer safe to utilize. A huge undertakingā€”because it meant reworking her entire lifeā€”but to continue was simply foolish. Aequitas had served its purpose.

It was time to move on.

ā€œPride can take everything,ā€ Sam added. ā€œIf we let it.ā€

Honor stiffened, staring out into the thick green stand of pine trees. Far off in the distance, Mount Rainier shimmered, veiled by wispy clouds and fresh snowfall. The scent of something spicy and delicious floated through the open window behind them, and her stomach murmured in interest.

ā€œI canā€™t,ā€ she said shortly. The ache in her chest grew painfully sharp, as if someone had pushed a spike through her heart.

ā€œBeing wrong is hard,ā€ Sam replied, ā€œbut not insurmountable.ā€

Honor scowled. ā€œIt isnā€™t just pride.ā€

ā€œIsnā€™t it?ā€ Sam arched a brow, the one which bore a long, ugly scar. From his father, Honor knew, but the details of that incident were something heā€™d never shared. And she hadnā€™t pushed, she realized suddenly, because sheā€™d been wholly wrapped up in her own painful scars.

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