Without a word, he whipped it open and saw from her flinch that she felt the weakening effect of An Breitheamh too.
Then, in the middle of a small village in County Galway, Fionn placed a hand above the pure iron dagger and watched the fire of his magic melt it into nothing.
Rose stumbled toward him. “But … but I tried that …”
A weight Fionn hadn’t even known he’d been carrying fell from his shoulders as the now-empty silver box clattered to the pebbled road.
He felt free.
For the first time in three hundred years, Fionn Mór was free.
“An Breitheamh was made by me and can only be undone by me.”
Hope, bright and shining, glowed in Rose’s eyes. “But what about your revenge?”
Fionn shook his head. “I’d already decided before those bastards took you that I wanted to stay with you. I can’t leave you behind. Centuries of planning … ah, Rose … centuries of planning were blown to shit the moment we met. Finally there’s something in this world I want more than vengeance.”
Rose laughed softly. “You choose me?”
He stared at his love, his mate, his newfound purpose, and the future stretched wide open before them. Fionn stepped toward her, cupping her beautiful face in his hands. The gods, he loved Rose Kelly beyond anything he thought he was capable of. He loved every inch of her with every inch of himself.
Fionn bent his head to hers and whispered across her sweet lips, “No, mo chroí. I choose us.”
Epilogue
Dublin
Bran, as it turned out, was a tall, somewhat lanky, good-looking vampire who appeared his mortal age of only twenty-one. His body was in that in-between place of youth and adulthood—strong, wiry, but not entirely filled out.
With his messy dark hair, brooding blue eyes, long lashes, sultry mouth, and angular jaw, he’d have been the exact kind of guy Rose would have had a crush on in college. There was a warmth to him that could change her mind about vampires, who, until this point, she’d only had bad experiences with.
He stared at her as she stared at him, in the well-lit loft apartment with its row of windows that seriously couldn’t be good for a vamp once daylight arrived.
“Are you done staring at my mate or am I going to have to yank out your eyeballs?” Fionn asked from his place on the couch beside Rose. His body language said casually possessive, with his left arm spread along the back of the couch where Rose sat.
His tone was anything but casual.
Bran broke into a grin, dimples popping in each cheek.
Jesus, he was so cute. Rose bet he never had to worry about finding a woman to suck on.
“I’m loving this more than you’ll ever know,” he announced in his rich, Dublin accent.
Dublin was beautiful. At least the little of it Rose had seen. After the battle at the warehouse, Fionn had insisted on Rose getting some rest at An Caomhnóir before they traveled to Dublin to meet with Bran.
“What?” Rose grinned, finding the vampire’s amusement infectious.
“Him.” He gestured to Fionn. “Possessive. Territorial. Of a woman.”
“Again—” Fionn began what she knew would be a renewed threat.
“Yes, yes,” Rose interrupted. “It’s a surprising development for us all. Let’s move past that and tell us what we need to know.”
Bran stared at her a second before turning to Fionn. “She’s fucking perfect for you.”
“Bran.”
“Okay, okay.” The vampire sat up, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned toward her. “The Blackwoods have sent out a team to find Layton and his sisters. Word is, they think Niamh might have something to do with it since she was who Nate sent them out after.”
“Shit.” Rose threw Fionn an anxious look.
His expression softened on her and she felt his hand slip through her hair to rest on her nape. He gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“As for Niamh, there’s a possibility I might have found her.”
Rose tore her gaze from Fionn’s handsome face to Bran’s. “What?”
He nodded, his expression somber. “There was an early snowstorm in Vienna. A bus driver lost control of his vehicle. It was heading for a group of pedestrians, most of whom claim that a young woman with long, blond hair stepped in front of the bus and pushed it away. With her hands.”
Fionn cursed under his breath. “She’s being careless, acting like fucking Superwoman. It was that exact thing that nearly got Thea caught.”
Melancholy swept through Rose. “Try to understand, Fionn. She couldn’t save Ronan.”
“So she’s trying to save the world?” Bran huffed. “The Blackwoods will hear of this, Rose, and they’ll come after her. If they think she’s to blame for the deaths of Layton and his sisters, they won’t make things pretty. They won’t kill her but they could do other things.”
She looked at her wrists, which her long sleeves thankfully covered. But she was scarred forever. “Believe me, I understand what they could do to her.” She turned to Fionn. “We have to go to her.”
To her shock, Fionn shook his head. “I want her safe too, Rose. I know you had these grand plans to tag along with Niamh and find the other fae-borne, but it’s not safe. For any of you. I found you by following Niamh. If you were captured in each other’s company, the gate would be in serious danger. It’s safer for you all to be apart.”
Indignation burned through her. “But what about Niamh? She’s alone now. I know she probably protected Ronan more than he could ever protect her, but—”
Fionn squeezed her nape again, hushing her. “Do you think I’d leave her out there alone?”
“What will you do?”
“Yes, what will you do?” Bran asked.
Her mate let go of a slow exhalation. “I’ll send someone I can trust to guard her. Someone almost as powerful as us.”
Who could be almost as powerful as them? “Uh, and that would be?”
“Oh, you’re not thinking what you’re thinking,” Bran said incredulously. “He’s the coldest bastard I ever did meet.”
Fionn scowled. “He’s also the only immortal werewolf in existence. And his protection can be bought, for the right price.”
“I suppose.”
“Anyone want to fill me in? There’s an immortal werewolf out there? How does that work?” Rose was stunned. There was still so much to learn!
“You’ve met him,” Fionn told her.
When had she met an immortal—
“Oh my God.” She gaped at Fionn. “You want to send Kiyo to guard Niamh?”
“He’s the only one I trust to do it.”
“But for how long? I mean, this gig is kind of an ongoing thing.”
Fionn sighed. “I don’t know, Rose. Until he discerns Niamh is stable and not going to lead the Blackwoods or the Garm straight to her. That also involves getting her to give up trying to find the other fae-borne. Which means entrusting the wolf with the truth.”
Somehow, she didn’t think even intimidating, brooding Kiyo would talk Niamh out of her personal mission.
In the wee hours of the morning, Rose walked at Fionn’s side, her small hand held tightly in his.
When they first met, Rose would never have pegged Fionn for the touchy-feely type. Yet, since her kidnapping days before, Fionn had stuck to her side like glue, touching her whenever the opportunity presented itself.
The cobbles of Fleet Street were almost empty of other people as they strolled through the Temple Bar district toward their hotel. They’d left An Caomhnóir because Rose preferred to be on the move, and Fionn wanted to give Rose whatever she needed.
Staying in one place gave her time to dwell on what had happened in that basement. She knew it would haunt her. It already was. But she also knew the one person who could help her find a way to deal with it was holding her hand. When she’d suggested they visit Bran, rather than get an update by phone, Fionn had seemed to understand.
Moreover, Rose
wanted to see where it was her family came from.
From there, Fionn planned to show Rose the rest of the world. If they kept moving, stayed smart, they could avoid their enemies. Hopefully. But it also meant avoiding people she loved.
As if he’d read her mind, Fionn offered, “If you like, we can find a way to call your parents. Let them know you’re still okay.”
Rose considered this and nodded. “Do you think I’ll ever see them again?”
“If I can make it safe for you and them both, then yes.”