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I shake my head and lower the stills. “No.”

Dane leans forward and drags the images toward himself. “That thing doesn’t look like any old Crowe foot soldier.”

“No,” Rafe says. “That spells trouble.”

Shay studies the image next. “Looks like they sent someone to make a point.”

Saint’s jaw tightens. “And what if that point is to blame the Harringtons, start a war so we destroy each other, and clear the path for the Crowes.”

“Good tactic.” Shay lets go of the images so they fall onto the table. “One enemy we know: the other has sent a fucking butcher.”

I flip the still facedown and look at my brothers, imagining one of them in the next set of photographs. Then Fionn takes their place in my head, and my fingers crush the edge of the image.

He’s a Harrington. I shouldn’t be afraid of losing him too.

Chapter 19

Sera

I woke up this morning knowing I’d have to come clean with Eilish, and it’s taken me all afternoon to pluck up the nerve to make the call.

“I can’t be your bridesmaid.”

The words leave my mouth before Eilish has the chance to say hello when she answers the phone.

Behind me, Rafe wanders into the kitchen just when I thought the house would be empty, because apparently privacy in this family is a myth.

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Eilish says. “You’re booked for a dress fitting on Tuesday. My mother will hunt you down herself.”

I close my eyes. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Not take this seriously.”

“You opened with resigning from my forced-marriage bridal party to leave me to fend for myself. I can either accept your suggestion or ignore it. You know which one I’m choosing.”

I hear the scrape of Rafe's mug touching the table, the clink of him stirring in sugar.

“I’m not resigning from you,” I say. “Just the circus.”

“Oh, Sera.” She sighs. “What a mess. If I was in your shoes, I’d probably try to bail too.”

Rafe’s chair legs drag against the floor, and I resist the urge to snap at him.

I turn enough to catch him at the edge of my vision. He sits at the kitchen table in a dark T-shirt, with rain-damp hair, a mug in hand, and a deliberately blank expression.

“Yeah, it’s a mess, alright.” I return my gaze to the rain on the window. “Wherever your fiancé goes, I don’t want to be, so if Fionn is the man waiting at the altar, I respectfully step down as your bridesmaid.”

A quiet snort comes through the phone. “He’s going to be at the wedding. They usually let the groom attend.”

“Then make one of Fionn’s sisters a bridesmaid. Keira or little Fia, take your pick.”

“Oh, sure, surround me with Harringtons. Drown me in them, Sera. That sounds wonderful.”

“Look, I can’t stand there with him opposite me and pretend everything’s delightful.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “You’ve only just buried Fury, and I’m asking you to stand opposite a Harrington of all people. I know it’s horrendously unfair. But I’m scared, Sera. I need one person beside me who’s on my side.”