She kneed me!
Over the stupefying pain, I barely noticed Nila encroaching on me. Her breath was ragged, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes blazed with an odd mixture of lust and hate. “Don’t touch me, Jethro Hawk. You might have been between my legs. I might’ve let you inside my body, but I will never let you inside my soul. Not now.”
I hissed between my teeth, riding the waves of torrid agony. I couldn’t stand straight.
Nila bent over to whisper in my ear. “I might not have fangs, but I do have a sharp knee.” With infinitesimal softness, she brushed away the hair that’d flopped over my forehead. Her touch was tender, loving, but beneath it lurked the truth.
Something was missing inside her.
Something that drew me to her and made me believe.
Once again, my family had destroyed any hope of me finding salvation by breaking the one woman who might’ve been strong enough to help me.
Nila murmured, “I don’t kiss men who I find abhorrent. Whatever happened between us is over.”
Gritting my teeth, I unfolded. “Quiet!”
She froze.
My outburst sliced through our bullshit, granting a smidgen of clarity. “Don’t lie to me. You will let me inside you. And you will let me own you.” Snatching her wrist, I jerked her close. “You will because we don’t have a choice. You’re inside me. Don’t you get it? You’re inside me. And it’s only fair that I’m inside you.”
Silence.
Breathing hard, I growled, “You know as well as I do the dangerous game we’re playing. I won’t retaliate from what you just did, but don’t push me any further. And don’t you dare fucking say it’s over.” Pressing my nose against hers, I hissed, “Because it’s not.”
Her eyes flared. “Believe me, it is over. I have no intention of ever touching you again.”
My temper boiled at the thought of her denying me more of this—whatever this was. I’d tasted her; I refused to believe we were through.
Cupping her jaw, I murmured, “The moment this morning is done, I’ll show you how wrong you are. I’ll show you how deep I am inside you. How fucked both of us are.” I pressed my lips against her cheekbone. “You want to win? What if I told you it would be better if you lost? Better for both of us if you submitted and stopped fighting for a change.”
She laughed. “Stop fighting? That’s all we have. Don’t you see? If I don’t fight you—then what am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to be okay with all of this?”
“Yes.”
She snorted, anger sharpening her features. “Delusional as well as insane.” Shoving me, she demanded, “Tell me why you’re here before I knee you in the balls again.”
God, I wanted to strike her.
I wanted to antagonise her to the point of giving in just so I could fuck her again. My blood was lava; my cock rock hard.
Trying to get myself under control, I snapped, “I forgot to complete a part of the First Debt. My father just reminded me.”
She stiffened. “Didn’t I pay enough for that monster? Twenty-one lashings complete with scars that will last a lifetime. Or did he find out you didn’t freeze me before making me bleed?”
Resentment radiated on her face.
How could I handle her like this? This belligerent?
“No matter what you think of me, I’m doing my best to protect you. I told you I would be in equal trouble for disobeying. I have no intention of explaining the truth.”
Despite herself, some of her temper dispersed, leaving resigned tolerance in her gaze. “If it’s not that…then what?”
My fingers curled tighter around her wrist. I winced as something sharp dug into my thumb. Holding up her arm, the glint of metal winked through the black fabric of her jumper. “Are there needles in your cuffs?”
She tried to jerk her arm away. Unsuccessfully.
“Hardly safe, don’t you think?”
She looked at the sharp pins as I pulled them free and dropped them onto a side table.
Her lips curled. “A hazard of the occupation. It’s convenient to have them there—I misplace them if I’m knee deep in material.” Her black eyes met mine. “Careful where you touch me, Jethro. You’ll never know if a needle will stab you to death.”
I froze. Everything she said came layered with hints and metaphors.
A chill scattered down my spine. “You’re beginning to piss me off, Ms. Weaver. If I didn’t know any better, I would take that as a threat.”
“Maybe you should.”
“Maybe you should say what you mean and be done with it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought I just did. I hate you. There, that blatant enough?”
Oh, my fucking God. This woman.
“You don’t hate me.”
She snarled. “Believe me. I do.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know more than I need and I don’t like what I know.”
My heart lurched. “You’re just like them. Judging me before you understand me.” The moment the words were free, I panicked. What the fuck?
My fingers twitched to wrap around her throat, to squeeze the knowledge of my secrets from her ears. She’d cut me out. She didn’t deserve to understand.
I moved forward, closing the distance between us, unable to ignore the twinges of cuts on my soles. “Stop punishing me for what happened yesterday.”
She laughed coldly. “Yesterday? You think my repulsion of you is from yesterday?”
I frowned. “Of course, it is. Before you saw what was on the moor, you liked me. You kissed me. You wrapped your legs around me while I fucked—”
“And you fell for it, didn’t you?” Her smile was nasty. “I made you kiss me. I made you fuck me to prove a point.”
The fire in my blood suddenly snuffed out, leaving my heart blackened and charred and eager for the creeping icicles in the dark. My voice dropped to an emotionless void. “What do you mean?”
You used me.
Same as them.
You lied to me.
Same as them.
“I told you to kiss me to prove you have a soul. You have one. I see that now. But I don’t like it.” She sucked in a breath, cocking her chin with a haughty dismissal. “I slept with you because I was weak and because I believed you were different. But you’re not different. You’ll toy with me, hurt me, and ultimately kill me. And then you’ll bury me with the rotting corpses of my slain family.”
Her blood pumped thickly beneath my touch. A headache brewed from nowhere. I’d only been here for ten minutes, yet it felt like an eternity. An eternity where all my dreams had just vanished, transforming into nightmares. “What do you want from me? An apology? A fucking—”
“That’s the thing. I don’t want anything from you. All I want is to have nothing to do with you or your bastard kin ever again. I intend to stay in my quarters until each debt must be repaid. I don’t care how long it takes or what you do to me, I’m done playing your stupid games.”
My muscles locked.
Stupid games?
She thought my texts were stupid games? She thought everything that I was going through was a fucking game?
Ice turned to sleet, raining upon my soul. “What are you saying?”
Her eyes glittered with cold-hearted conviction. “I was wrong to think I had any power in this fate. I’m done. Seeing those graves made me grow up.”
“So, you’re just going to lock yourself away and wait to die?”
She nodded. “Having free roam of this place, receiving gifts, and enjoying people’s company undermines my right to feel wronged. I won’t play along anymore. I’m a prisoner and I refuse to forget that.”
I wanted to slap her. I wanted to throw her onto the bed and fuck her. Whoever this woman was in front of me, she wasn’t the Nila who’d made me unravel.
She thought she couldn’t change my family? Maybe she was right. But she sure as fuck changed me.
“Everything you just said is bullshit.”
/>
She shrugged. “Believe what you want to believe.”
I searched her gaze, delving as deep as I could, trying to see the truth. Something about this entire exchange felt fake.
She stared right back, hinting at nothing.
We’d run out of time. Extracting the truth from her would have to come later.
“Enough melodramatics. We’re leaving,” I muttered. “Time to go.”
She scoffed. “Do what you have to do. I’m sure there’s a special place reserved for you Hawks in hell.”
“Goddammit, Nila!”
She flinched.
I didn’t have the strength to have another fight, especially when I needed to concentrate and get through what was about to happen. “Behave. Just once if your fucking life trust without having to understand.”
Yanking her forearm, I pulled her toward the exit.
In a magical twist, she somehow dislodged my grip and stalked to the door on her own.
My jaw locked as she threw me a cold glare and disappeared into the corridor.
Bloody woman.
Catching up to her, I captured her hand.
My heart skipped at the simple touch. Up until now, I’d always grabbed her elbow or arm—keeping our roles perfectly clear. So, what was I doing grabbing her hand like an equal?
Her fingers twitched then looped purposely through mine.
My cock hardened and I slammed to a halt. Christ, I wanted her.
Her nails were long and the tips suddenly sliced into the back of my hand.
I hissed between my teeth. The pinpricks of pain sent me reeling into a memory of her clutching my back as I thrust deep inside her.
Her fingers turned white as she tightened her grip. I didn’t jolt as two fingernails broke my skin and drew blood. This was a perfect example of her undoing. She didn’t understand me. Didn’t understand that she’d just given me a gift better than anything. With pain, came relief, and with relief, came snow.
My heart slowed its beat. My temper faded. Any remaining fire dwindled to nothing. “Thank you for reminding me of my role in your life, Ms. Weaver. What just happened won’t happen again.”
I won’t be so weak as to kiss you again.
I won’t be so stupid to believe you can see me.
She tilted her chin. “Good.”
I slipped into the dutiful firstborn son. “Kindly remove your claws.”
A coy smile played with her lips. “My claws?” She blinked innocently. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Lowering my head, I murmured, “You know exactly what I mean.”
Your claws around my fucking heart.
Untangling our fingers, I snagged her elbow. The throb where her nails had punctured helped me focus. I’d been blinded by her. Hypnotised by a promise of more—of a connection I never dared dream of.
It was a lie.
And I was sick of being used.
Striding down the corridor, dragging my prey through the house, I said, “No more, Ms. Weaver. No more games. We’re through.”
The solar.
A room hidden on the second floor located down twining corridors. Glass cases lined the hallways displaying ancient crochet and needlepoint. Black Diamond brothers and visitors were prohibited from this floor.
It was feminine territory—housing only my grandmother and sister, along with my father’s study and private rooms. His bedroom was up another level in one of the turrets. Fortified and armed, ready for a war that never came.
Nila didn’t speak as I guided her up the massive spiral stone staircase in the east wing. She’d gone peculiarly obedient but lagged behind me; I practically had to drag her.
“Where are you taking me?” Her eyes darted around the second floor as we stepped onto the landing.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Gritting my teeth, I pulled her forward.
“Did a Weaver do those?” she asked, jerking me to a stop to stare at an embroidery of Hawksridge Hall bathed in golden sunlight with wild horses prancing on the front lawn.
“No.”
Her eyes met mine. “Who did then?”
“No one you need to know about.” We moved in testy silence to the large double doors at the end.
“Is this where you sleep? Upstairs, I mean?”
My head whipped to face her. “You’re asking where my quarters are?” Dragging her close, I whispered hotly in her ear. “Why? So you can sneak inside and fuck me? Or perhaps murder is more on your mind.”
She vibrated with anger. “Like I would tell you.”
My palm itched to strike again. I’d never been a violent person, preferring to intimidate with winter rather than with fists, but goddammit, she made it hard to remember just who I was and what was expected of me.
I’d lost myself.
I’m fucking floundering.
“Stop asking questions.” Splaying my hand on the doors, I pushed them open.
Her gaze went wide, sweeping around the large space. The solar was masculine in both use and décor, and frankly, rather drab. Heavy oak panels, with carved hawks and feather wreaths, covered the ceiling. The walls were gold-gilded leather, oppressing the space with dark brown while the carpet was blood red.
Slouchy black couches rested in clusters, some by the huge fireplace, and others by the lead-light window. An oversize coffee table took centre place with thick glass imprisoning the bleached bones of my father’s old dog, Wrathbone.
A slow clap filled the space. Daniel smirked, his eyes locking onto Nila. “You didn’t get lost after all. Pity, I’d just volunteered to be the search party.”
My spine locked. Shit, not only had my father decided to be present for this, but he’d invited Kes and Daniel, too. The thought of Daniel seeing me around Nila both enraged and terrified.
He’d always seen how different I was and used my flaws to hurt me.
Nila subtly moved closer to me, never taking her gaze off my younger brother.
So, she hates me but still expects me to protect her.
I wanted to pull away and leave her on her own. She deserved it. But no matter what just happened, she was still mine and with ownership came responsibility. Her welfare was my concern.
“About time you two arrived.” Cut leaned against one of the embossed walls, his posture relaxed. In his hand was a tumbler of cognac. Not even midday and he had hard liquor in his belly. My father wasn’t a drunkard. He would never give up control enough to be under the influence. He just indulged in things he wanted, when he wanted them.
Cut’s gaze went to Nila. “Pleasure to see you, my dear. I heard you’ve recently relocated to the Weaver quarters. How are you finding your new accommodations?”
Her arm jerked beneath my hold, her fingers curling into a fist.
Nila sniffed. “I appreciate a place to work and equipment in which to do it, but if you think I’ll find happiness anywhere in your home, you’re mistaken.”
Cut laughed. “I would suggest you stop lying to yourself. I’ve seen you smiling. I’ve witnessed your contentedness these past few weeks.”
Nila growled low in her chest. “Yes, that was a mistake. And before I saw what I did yesterday.”
Cut pushed off from the wall, throwing back the rest of his cognac. “And what did you see yesterday?” His eyes flickered to mine, glowing with annoyance.
“Nothing to concern you about,” Nila snapped.
I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She could’ve told him about the graves. She could’ve told him all manner of things that I’d sworn her not to tell. If she wanted me punished, my father would ensure I would pay.
My heart thundered, waiting for her to announce my weakness. The secret of what it meant to both of us when I’d slipped inside her and felt her come around my cock.
She felt it, too.
I know it.
I sucked in a breath, holding on to the faint connection still between us—not ready to submit to our fight—to believe that whatever existed was gone
.
“Jethro, are you going to permit your charge to speak to her elders so disrespectfully?”
Shit.
My forehead furrowed at the challenge, the command.
If I was anything like the son Cut had taught me to be, I would force Nila to her knees and teach her better manners. I would hurt her, scold her, and deliver her heartbreak at his feet.
But if I did that, she might reveal my darkest secret. The fact that I’d fucked her. And that it’d destroyed me.
Cut grunted, “Jet—”
Embracing the cold, I shifted my hold on Nila and grabbed her around the back of the nape. My fingers dug into the tender column of muscle, holding her firm. “Be polite, Ms. Weaver. Drop the insolence and be grateful for all that my family has given you.”
She flinched but didn’t try to break my hold. Glaring at Cut, she said, “Forgive me, Mr. Hawk. What I meant to say was thank you for welcoming me so cordially into hell. I’m so happy to live so close to the devil.”
“Why you—” Cut grabbed a handful of Nila’s long black hair, jerking her from my grip. “I’ll make you pay for—”
“Gentlemen, surely there are more interesting things to be done than tormenting the poor little Weaver Whore?” Kestrel inched closer; his ability to guard his emotions and true feelings were a gift. He glowered in my direction, warning me not to move, to obey his unspoken help.
And like so many times in our past, I listened. I forced my heartbeat to regulate and latch onto the projection of calmness he oozed.
Nila hung in Cut’s grip. Her tiptoes kept her balanced, but her face screwed up in obvious pain. Despite her agony, she didn’t look away from my father’s challenge or cry out.
Kestrel sidled up to them. “Father, we have a shipment arriving today and one of the brothers said a rival MC plans to ambush us. Save your wrath for those who deserve it. Not a guest who will be here for a long time to come.”
My heart raced. My fists locked.
I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see my father holding my woman so possessively.
A moment ticked past. Sometimes Kestrel’s reasoning worked. Sometimes it didn’t. And if it didn’t, it only made Cut worse—making him feel manipulated and eager to prove dominance over his sons.