I laughed. “I can’t see you fighting.”

Her cheeks warmed. “I’d say not. But just in case something should happen, every pack member was required to know how to fight. Much like it is here with the Wayfarers, there were people always practicing. But in the Irish pack, it isn’t such a to-do. Those of us who didn’t favor training were assigned classes every other week to make sure we stayed fit enough in case any of us faced a threat from the fey or whatever else might come about.” She sighed. “Well, that day Donovan was actually in the stronghold, so he came by sparring practice. I was fighting John—Donovan’s second—and I was doing pretty well at it, if I may say so.”

“Go you!”

She laughed, clutching her hand to her chest. “I’d been having a row with Theron over something idiotic.” Her laughter drained away, leaving heartbreak in its wake.

“Who’s Theron?” She never talked about her past. It was amazing to finally get some details.

“He was—” Ciara’s eyes welled before she blinked back the tears. “He was my mate. Or he should’ve been.” She cleared her throat, putting an end to that question.

I couldn’t let that go. “You had a mate?”

“Aye. I did. But he’s gone now.” I didn’t even have time to process that bit of information before she rushed on. “Anyhow, I was sparring with John when Donovan stepped in to help. He was correcting my form, standing behind me, guiding my movements. I didn’t think anything of it, and I don’t think Donovan did either, but I caught Vivian’s eye and I’d never seen such hate. It chilled me to the bone. Nothing was the same after that.”

“What do you mean nothing was the same? What happened?” I needed more than just vagueness. I had to be prepared for this woman and whatever was wrong with the Irish pack.

“It was just little things at first. Things that made me think I was losing my mind. My toothbrush would end up in my dresser. Or the book I was reading would go missing. Then, I found another woman’s pants in Theron’s room. We had it out, but he swore up and down that he hadn’t been with anyone else. Our ceremony was a week away, and I was so bloody upset. I stormed off.” She brushed away the tear rolling down her cheek. “It was the last time I saw him. Next thing I knew, my mother was comin’ ’round to tell me he’d jumped off a cliff.” She shook her head. “But it was madness. Made no sense. I was angry, sure. But a part of me knew—knew—he hadn’t been unfaithful. If I’d had more time, I’d have seen it. The pants didn’t have a scent on them. They were new. Not some leftover from a forbidden tryst. We would’ve made up. But it was already too late.”

“He jumped off a cliff?” That sounded ridiculous. It was one fight and didn’t sound like it was something he’d kill himself over.