FOUR

DARRAGH’S POV

I remembered dying. The witch's eyes had gone black right before everything ended. I'd paid her for information about Ronan O'Donoghue's crimes: the concealed murders of Ciara O'Callahan and her parents. I was going to expose him, bring him to justice. Then darkness came.

Now I stood here. Same gathering. Same drink in my hand. Same faces all around me.

Hell. This had to be my personal hell.

The goddess probably wanted me to relive my failures on an endless loop. My punishment for not acting on the one-sided bond she'd cursed me with. I'd have to watch it all unfold again – see her walk by with him, feel that pull inside me that she'd never notice or return.

I stared down at my drink, the amber liquid catching the light. The glass felt cool against my palm, too real for a memory or a dream. The buzz of conversation filled the room, people laughing and talking, oblivious to my internal crisis.

That's when I saw her.

She was moving through the crowd toward me. Not past me like before. Toward me.

This wasn't how it happened.

My throat went dry. I gripped my glass tighter, knuckles going white. This was different. The goddess was playing with me, twisting the knife deeper.

Before I could decide if I should move or stay put, she plucked the glass from my hand and took a sip without hesitation. Our fingers brushed, and something sharp and electric coiled at the base of my spine. It took everything in me not to react.

"Hi," she said, looking up at me over the rim of the glass.

I arched a brow, not bothering to hide my surprise. "You're a bold one, aren’t you?"

She smiled like she had a secret. "Sometimes, boldness is necessary."

That was when it hit her.

I saw the moment her body went rigid. Her fingers tightened around the glass, her breath caught mid-motion. My wolf, who usually stayed buried under layers of self-control, stirred in response. Recognition flickered like a lit match. My mate. It was obvious again, the way the scent of her wrapped around me, sweet and sharp, igniting instincts I wasn’t prepared to deal with.

The glass slipped from her grasp, shattering against the marble floor. She didn't seem to hear it. Her gaze was locked on me, wide-eyed and shaken, her wolf clawing at the surface of her skin, reaching for me just as mine wanted to reach for her.

What the fuck was happening? This never happened before. The worst part was I did not know what to do? Was I supposed to say something?

I remembered how it had been when she and Ronan matched on these same grounds. It was like a scene out of a fairytale. If I pulled that now… If I told her she was mine, wouldn’t that save her from her fate?

But I just could not bring myself to say it. Instead, I exhaled slowly, forcing the tension from my shoulders. "Are you alright?" I asked, reaching out before I could think better of it. My fingers brushed her arm, and the reaction was immediate. A jolt of something fierce and primal surged through me. My wolf howled in satisfaction, but I shut it down before it could take over.

Ciara stumbled back a step, barely managing to hold herself together. "I, I'm fine," she muttered. "I just… I think I... need some air."

She was lying. I knew it the way I knew my own heartbeat.

I pulled my hand back, the weight of her scent still lingering in my senses. "I’ll get you some water," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

I turned and walked away before she could object, my heart hammering against my ribs. The crowd parted for me without resistance, like they sensed the storm brewing inside me. Her scent clung to my fingertips, sweet and intoxicating.

When I reached the refreshment table, I gripped the edge to steady myself. The wood creaked under my fingers.

"Control," I whispered to myself. "Just breathe."

“Can I help you?” One of the Omega staff asked.

“Yeah… Water..” I managed to whisper.

I was losing control and fast. Perhaps that was the nature of a two sided bond but I couldn't help it. I lifted my hand to my face and inhaled deeply, drawing her scent deep into my lungs. The effect was instant. A rush of heat flooded through me, my wolf pacing restlessly beneath my skin. My eyes fell closed as I breathed her in again, committing every note of her scent to memory. Honey and wildflowers with a hint of something uniquely her.

"Em… Sir? The water you asked for?"

My eyes snapped open. A young Omega server stood there, holding out a glass of water, her eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline. I hadn't even realized she'd approached.

Heat crept up my neck as I took the glass from her. "Thanks," I muttered.

"Sure thing," she said, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Glass in hand, I journeyed back toward Ciara, only to stop dead in my tracks.

Ronan was standing in front of her.

I knew the moment I saw her face that something was wrong. Her posture had gone rigid, hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her breathing was off. Too shallow. Too fast. But it was her scent that gave her away. She was terrified. Cold, suffocating fear, twisting around her like a noose.

Rage rose in my chest, swift and unbidden. Not just the protective fury of my wolf, but something deeper. It was the knowledge of what this man had done. The blood on his hands. The lives he'd taken. Ciara's parents. Ciara herself in another timeline.

The glass nearly shattered in my grip as images flashed through my mind: the witch's dark eyes as she revealed his crimes; the evidence I'd paid for with my life; Ciara, oblivious, being pulled into his orbit.

Not this time.

I closed the distance in seconds, moving with purpose until I was firmly at her side. My shoulder pressed against hers.

Ronan turned, his smile faltering when he saw me. Recognition flickered in his eyes, followed quickly by contempt.

"SHE'S WITH ME."

My voice boomed across the room, loud enough that heads turned inside. The music seemed to falter for a heartbeat. Conversations paused. The declaration hung in the air, unmistakable and challenging.

Whispers immediately erupted around us.

"Did he just..." "...never seen Darragh like this before..." "...what's going on between them?"

Ronan's eyes narrowed, cold calculation replacing his initial surprise. "Is that right?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft. "Funny, I don't remember you walking the girl in."

I stepped slightly forward, putting myself between them. "Well, now I'm telling you."

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. The kind of look that had preceded violence before. The kind of look that had preceded murder.

The crowd around us grew quiet, sensing the building tension. I could feel Ciara behind me, her fear giving way to confusion as she watched this unfold.

I held Ronan's gaze, unflinching. In the old timeline, I'd have backed down. I'd have walked away, nursing my one-sided bond in silence. I'd have let him take her, let him win.

The murderer wouldn't win this time.