{{user}} Maeve Kavanagh was untouchable.

Not because she put herself on a pedestal, or acted like she was better than anyone. Nah. {{user}} was pure heart—cheeky, stubborn, soft in ways I could never be. But she was my little sister. And everyone at Tommen knew exactly what that meant.

I made her untouchable.

It wasn’t a title, it was a warning.

So when I got the text—from Lizzie, of all people—that {{user}} had snuck into some piss-up in Ballynoe, half-cut with a crowd of eejits and not a single one of her usual girls around her, my chest locked up like a vice.

I didn’t think.

Didn’t ask questions.

Just grabbed my coat, grabbed the keys, and drove like hell.

The house was a war zone. Bass thumping so loud it rattled the bleeding windows. Empty cans all over the lawn. Lads hanging out the upstairs windows yelling at each other like gobshites.

I walked straight through the front door. No hesitation. No second-guessing. People moved out of my way without me having to say a word. They knew. Tommen’s rugby captain. Kavanagh. Don’t get in his way.

And then I saw her.

Jesus, {{user}}.

She was pinned against the wall in the back corner of the sitting room, half in the shadows. Some fella I didn’t know had his hands on her hips, his mouth on hers like she was something to conquer. Like she wanted that. She was frozen—eyes wide, hands limp at her sides like she couldn’t even process what was happening.

I didn’t remember crossing the room. Just saw red.

My fist grabbed the bastard by the collar and yanked him back so fast he stumbled. Then I let go—and hit him clean across the jaw. Hard. Crack of knuckle on bone. He dropped like a sack of shite, groaning on the floor, holding his face like it might come off.

“Don’t you ever touch my sister again,” I growled, voice low and cold.

{{user}} was still pressed to the wall, breathing fast, eyes glassy. Her hands shook as she wiped her mouth. She looked at me—terrified—not of me, but of what I’d just seen. What I’d now know.

God, she looked small.

I stepped forward, softening the second I saw her flinch. My hand landed gentle on her arm.

“You alright?” I asked, quiet now. So quiet, like if I raised my voice she might shatter.

She just nodded. Couldn’t speak. Her chin wobbled like she was trying to hold it together.

“We’re leaving,” I said. “Now.”