Bound by Forever (True Immortality #3) - S. Young Page 0,45

dishonor me with such a question? Do you not remember your time with the MacLennans?”

Kiyo exhaled slowly, looking away. “I’ve lived a long time with very few people guessing what I am. It’s irritating that Fionn, Rose, and Bran know. Now you too. I don’t like people knowing my business.”

“Obviously. I’ll tell no one. Not even Thea. As long as you protect Niamh, you have my loyalty. You have it anyway … for saving my father’s life.”

They shared a tense look, and seeing the sincerity in Conall’s gaze, Kiyo offered him a nod.

“Is this what Niamh asked of you? The personal thing she wanted to know and you wouldnae tell her?”

Aggravated by the renewal of that conversation, Kiyo cut him a dark look.

Conall grinned. “It was. Bloody fae woman sensed it.”

“Yes. She sensed it.”

“Then why not tell her the truth of what you are?”

“Are you kidding?” Kiyo stared at him like he was dim-witted. “The fewer people who know, the better.”

“I dinnae know the whole truth. Your story. Niamh doesnae need to know either. Just tell her the part about your immortality. Although I must say, I cannae imagine how that came about.” Curiosity glinted in Conall’s eyes. “It must be an interesting story.”

Interesting.

Not the adjective Kiyo would use.

“Just tell her that. Tell her something. You know what Niamh is. That knowledge is dangerous in the wrong hands. So whether you think Niamh trusts you or not, she has to at least trust that you willnae betray the secret of her identity. All the lass is probably looking for is some sign that by offering her knowledge of your identity, her trust in you is not misplaced.”

Letting Conall’s advice sink in, Kiyo had to admit that the alpha made sense. He’d never thought about it that way.

“And you think she’ll stop running from me?”

“I think there’s a far greater chance of it, aye.”

“Then I’ll consider your advice.”

Conall smirked. “You do that.”

10

Saint Denis, Paris

It had become a habit to stand in front of the mirror and look.

No, not look, Niamh thought. Look suggested vanity.

Search.

She was searching.

Who are you?

She glanced over the muddy-brown hair she’d piled on top of her head, tendrils falling around her face. She fingered a brown lock, remembering the light blond color that hid beneath it. With the touch, a memory flooded her, so sharp and clear it felt like it happened only yesterday …

Niamh huddled on the bed, her arms wrapped tight around her small knees as she stared hard at the crack beneath the bedroom door. Light spilled through it from the hallway. Everything had been good for a while. And things had been awful for ages before that, so Niamh had been grateful for the good.

When Mam died, she and Ronan had been sent to live in a group home. She’d hated it. It was hard to keep the strange things that happened to her under wraps when there were lots of other people around. She’d shared a bunk bed with Ronan, but they’d shared a room with four other kids.

Ronan had hated the group home too.

He hated having to watch their backs constantly and cover up Niamh’s weird behavior.

But then things got better when Siobhan came into their lives. Siobhan knew what it was like to lose her mam. And her dad. They left her lots of money so she didn’t have to work. Instead she decided to foster kids. Her house was four times the size of the old flat they’d lived in with Mam. When they’d first come to live with Siobhan, she was fostering a baby girl named Shannon. But three months later, Shannon got adopted. Niamh was sad. She’d grown attached to the little thing. For a blissful six weeks, however, Niamh and Ronan had Siobhan’s undivided attention.

She was the best. And because she didn’t work, she could give them more attention than even Mam had.

The strange part was that in all that time, nothing weird happened with Niamh. It was like being in such a safe place made all the weird stuff stop. Ronan was over the moon.

Then Joe arrived to stay with them, too, but he was only thirteen months old, and as busy as he kept Siobhan, she still had time for them.

They’d started attending a really nice school, small classes, and the kids weren’t too bad. A few were a bit snobby, but nothing Niamh couldn’t handle. Ronan was two years ahead of her, and now that she wasn’t using any powers or getting any visions,