Page 186 of Carnal Wagers

“No, wait, wait, wait.”

Chapter 46

Did I keep pumping his heart or fend her off? I couldn’t choose. Part of me didn’t believe she’d do it. This was my Maeve. The one person I always trusted, the one who had my back no matter what. When everyone else tried to drag me down, she boosted me back up. I didn’t want to fight her.

When the iron came down for his cheek, my body reacted regardless. I swiped the handle toward me, hoping she’d pull back. She did, but the scalding metal still grazed his shoulder. His eyes snapped open, his face twisting in pain, and he gasped for breath. The skin smoked and roasted for that half-second touch, all red and angry, before the iron clattered to the floor and scorched the hardwood.

“It has to be done,” Maeve howled at me. She snatched up a chef’s knife off the bar cart and pointed it at me. I recognized it from her kitchen by the Damascus steel blade and white oak handle. “Don’t you get it? I’m trying to save you.”

“I never asked you to save me.” I scrambled off him and knelt in front of her. “It’s supposed to be me, isn’t it? You go after the O’Leary women. Why not me? Just leave him be.”

“It could never be you. You’re my chosen sister. Like my mam and mom, we chose each other.”

“But I don’t choose this. Please, Maeve. Don’t. Let it go.”

She gripped her head and growled. “I can’t. I already gave you what you wanted. Don’t be greedy. I let you go after him, even though it was against the rules. I let you try to fill the hole inside you that needed male validation because your father never gave it to you, and you and I both know your brothers won’t give it either. I get that.”

“I have never needed a man to achieve anything I’ve done. Just because I wanted love doesn’t mean my self-worth depended on it.”

“Then move out of the way,” she yelled.

“He’s my person. Didn’t we always say how special it was to find your person?”

“I’m your person,” she lashed out. “Not him.”

I’d never seen her bursting with anger before. Her eyes were red and manic, and her skin was flushed.

“Maeve, you do this, and everyone will know. Erel knows you’re here. Cillian’s brother does too. And the concierge. But you can still stop this and walk away.”

“Walk away? There is no walking away. This is my life.”

I held my hands out pleadingly, feeling every second they were not checking Cillian’s pulse or pressing compressions against his heart slipping through my fingers.

“Non, ma belle. Your life is with Erel and me. With your employees and your company. Trying new restaurants. New hairdos. Your garden. There are so many other things in your life.”

“You don’t understand,” she cried out, slashing the knife through the air.

“Try me.”

“This is what I do. It’s what I have to do. There are rules. He slept with you. You took something that never belonged to you. One of you has to die. It’s the only way.”

“The only way for what?”

“The only way for me to right their wrongs,” she yelled, and then she lunged.

The knife flashed in slow motion. I saw it all happen in the blink of an eye. She’d stab him, and he’d die, just like all those women. Gone. The end. The threads of our story cut short. I refused to accept that. Help was coming. He only needed more time for them to arrive.

I dove between them and coiled myself around Cillian. I swore his arms wrapped around me too, and I fell into the ideal of one more perfect moment together before it all ended.

The blade stabbed through my lower back, pushing in and shoving me further into him. My ribs bent to give way around it. Pain flared white-hot, and I groaned through the burn.

Beneath me, Cillian growled, his body trembling with obvious effort. His eyes were open and hazy, but focused on Maeve behind me. He was alive. He was awake, and that was all that mattered.

When the blade tugged me backward and withdrew, it left a void of pain. Barely a throb remained, just background noise compared to my need to keep him alive. His gaze drooped again, going vacant, and his hand plummeted to the ground between us, palm cut to the bone. He’d stopped the blade. It had gone in, but somehow I knew that he’d kept it from going too deep.

I crawled to him. “Chéri, stay awake.”

“Why?” Maeve yelled as she spun me around by the shoulders and shook me hard. A cry burst from my lungs, pain suddenly blazing to life from the wound. “Why’d you get in the way? He’s not worth it. They never are.”