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“I think some space would be good right now,” Ivory said, the solemnness in her voice reminding me of where her loyalty lay. She would always be in Scar’s corner.
I was just the girl she’d helped trick into marrying him.
Aoife guided me to the kitchen, depositing me onto one of the stools at the island as Ivory went to the freezer and pulled out the bottle of vodka she kept stored there. She poured some into a glass, pushing it across the island so that I could raise it and down it in a single gulp.
“You knew,” I accused.
“I did,” she said sadly.
“You did?” Aoife asked, the hurt on her face echoing what I felt in my soul. At least one person hadn’t known, hadn’t kept it from me.
“He told me when he was trying to explain why he had to stay away from you. I just didn’t think it mattered,” Ivory said with a hollow, disbelieving laugh.
“How could it not matter?” I demanded, sputtering at the lack of concern she could show over the death of a parent.
“Matteo did something when we were first together and then kept it from me. I was so furious with him when I found out. I left him,” she said, biting her bottom lip. “But something happened that gave me perspective. Scar nearly died trying to protect me, and the entire time all I could think of was the time I’d wasted being mad at Matteo. All I wanted was to fall asleep in his arms one more time. I forgave him. Not because what he did wasn’t terrible, but because I couldn’t stand the thought of not waking up next to him every morning.”
“Did Matteo slit your mother’s throat?”
“No,” she admitted, holding my gaze.
“It should have been my choice,” I said, staring back at her.
“And now it is. If you can walk out that door and not regret everything you’ll lose, then maybe I was wrong. Maybe the two of you don’t have the kind of bond that can overcome this. Maybe this does weigh heavier than how much you love him. I really hope I’m not, though,” she said, pouring more vodka into my glass. “Because losing you will break him.”
“It will break me too,” I admitted, closing my eyes as I failed to push away the sob that climbed up my throat. I didn’t want to live without him, but there were just so many lies. So many—
I froze, the memory of a word whispered in my ear. The memory of my fingers trailing over the O in Darragh’s last name on the knife.
I turned to Aoife, my tears stopping in a single, heart-stopping moment that threatened to shred me down to my very soul.
You’ll take it all for the little breagadoir.
The memory of his laughter was like ice on my skin.
“What does breagadoir mean?” I asked, wrapping my palms around Aoife’s arms. She stared at me in surprise, her brow knitting as she glanced toward Ivory in confusion.
“It means liar,” she said, flinching when I looked around the otherwise empty kitchen.
“Where’s Madison?” I asked, jumping off the stool and shoving my way past Aoife. Dread filled my veins, ice water coating my skin. Everything I’d sacrificed.
For nothing.
“Madison!” I yelled, calling out to the girl the Bellandis had taken in. To the girl they’d given sanctuary. To the girl I’d sacrificed myself for.
For the little fucking liar herself.
