KIERAN

“Stop crying, Princess. I’ll get it all back for you—everything. And I’ll make sure they beg at your feet,” I said, leaning in until my forehead pressed against hers. Her eyes were red and puffy, tears still slipping down her cheeks. She hadn’t slept last night. She’d cried herself into silence, and even in sleep, she trembled—curled into me like the world had turned its back on her. Her tears had soaked into my shirt, and every drop felt like acid.

I hated seeing her like that. It didn’t break my heart. It enraged me.

Seeing my woman cry didn’t make me sad—it made me murderous. Rage crawled beneath...