The Cost of Claiming Beauty

1. Lorcan

LORCAN

“You sent your father here.” Liath’s face twisted as she glared at me. “You killed him.”

I reached for her. But my hand stalled in the air between us before it fell.

She cared about him and I got him killed. She was never going to forgive me.

I’ve lost her.

The fire roared behind her, thick smoke rolling out of the wreckage, stinging my eyes, catching at the back of my throat.

“I… I didn’t know.” My voice came out rough. “I thought he’d just send Deargán back to jail.”

It didn’t absolve me. I had sent my father after Deargán knowing he would do something. I hadn’t asked what that something would look like. But deep down, I suspected. I knew. That was enough to damn me.

Her mouth pulled tight, grief twisting into something harder. “Alistair tried to kill me.”

No. That can’t—

Something cold moved through my chest. “There must be some mistake.”

“Stop lying to yourself, Lorcan,” she said, her voice low and unflinching, her stare hardening. “Your father locked me in a cell alongside Deargán and your sister and set the whole fucking building on fire.”

The breath went out of me, my lungs refusing to pull the next one in, my vision going thin at the edges.

Not a mistake. He locked her in a cell and left her to die.

My father. The man who taught me to tie my tie, who helped me study for my Ravenwood entrance exam, the only real family I had left.

My father tried to kill my girl.

The version of him I had carried my whole life cracked down the middle. My stomach twisted hard enough to hurt and cold spread under my skin. Anger flared hot underneath it. My fingers curled, my jaw locking, every muscle tightening.

I will kill him for this.

“Why?” I hissed.

“You wanted to know why I was masquerading as Rua? I was trying to find evidence against him. To stop him.” Her jaw worked. “Your father is using the asylum to make girls disappear. He’s torturing my friends in there. I barely survived.”

My mind recoiled against the words. No, it can’t be true.

Mervyn at the dining room door with news of a phone call. A buyer from Moscow.

My father’s drinks evening. Girls draped across men’s laps. The hand up Liath’s skirt. The flash of metal under jackets.

My father’s low, warm, obscene voice through the vent in my bedroom wall. You’ll have to keep quiet so your brother doesn’t get jealous. His hand on Liath’s thigh pushing up her nightgown.

My father wasn’t just a complicated man.

He was a predator.

And he ran a network of them through the asylum he had been grooming me to take over one day.

My father was trying to make me the heir to that.

My chest tightened like a fist was around me, squeezing tight. Fuck. I couldn’t breathe.

A siren wailed faintly in the distance, fire crackling behind her.

“You know what hurts the most, Lasair?” Liath’s eyes narrowed through the smoke. “When I found out you own the asylum.”

“What?” Her words hit like a physical blow. “No, I don’t own—”

Cold crept slowly up the back of my neck. My mother had left Magdalene to me. And my father had hidden this from me my whole life. He never told me.

Why? Why would he hide ownership from me?

Liath’s voice shook. “Don’t bullshite me. I saw your name on the deed.”

She thought I was part of it. She was never going to trust me.

Her face twisted with fear and disgust, wide eyes, mouth parted, as if she couldn’t separate me from him anymore. Like I was something dangerous. Something rotten.

She’s looking at me as if I’m a monster.

Her look of fear aimed at me… It was too familiar. It dislodged something inside me.

No, Lorcan!

I shook my head, the scream fading.

“I swear, Gray.” My voice cracked. “I never knew. I’m not part of it.”

God, I ached to hold her but I knew she wouldn’t let me. Not now. Would she ever let me hold her again? Did I deserve it?

“You expect me to believe you?” Her voice flattened. “After you handed Deargán to your father?”

The words carved straight through me.

“Liath—” I stepped toward her before stopping myself. “I swear on my ma’s memory.”

She stared at me, her throat moving as she swallowed, but she said nothing.

Every instinct in me wanted to keep arguing with her. To swear I wasn’t my father. That I would never touch her the way he had. I’d never hurt her.

But I had, hadn’t I? I’d held a knife to her throat. I’d tied her to a banister in a strait jacket and put my fingers inside her. I’d drugged her.

She’s right. I am a monster. I’ll only hurt her.

Fire truck tires hit gravel through the trees, sharp orders called out, doors slamming.

Get her safe first. Stay away from her after. I could be a monster to her if it meant she stayed alive.

My hand closed around her bicep, scanning the trees for the quickest route out of the grounds without being seen. “We have to go.”

She wrenched her arm, trying to break free of me. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The fear in her voice hurt. But my grip tightened on her arm instead of loosening.

“Alistair thinks you’re dead.” I kept my voice level. “If he finds out you’re alive, he’ll come for you. You have to disappear.”

Her eyes flicked toward the blazing ruin. Then back to me.

Red light strobed through the trees as voices and boots clomped closer.

We had seconds before we were spotted.

“Liath.” My hand tightened on her arm. I’d throw her over my shoulder. Carry her if I had to.

She gave me a small bitter nod. “Fine.” Her jaw worked. “But this doesn’t mean anything.”

Her words scraped through me raw, catching somewhere behind my ribs and tearing lower.

This time, I feared she meant it.