She’s asking me to let them win.
She’s asking me to die.
SLINGING A TOWEL around my waist, I exited my steamy bathroom and stalked across my bedroom to get the first aid kit.
My knuckles were torn, I could barely see out of my right eye, my lip was split, and countless bruises mottled my torso. But fuck, I felt better than I had in months.
I shook like a damn junkie needing another fix, but I relished the win and adrenaline of playing God over someone else for a change.
Passing the full-length mirror, I cringed at my reflection. It didn’t look like I’d been the victor, but I was still here and they weren’t.
Suck on that, assholes.
Grabbing the first aid kit from the 17th century dresser, I returned to my bed to begin repairs.
I didn’t need stitches or serious medical care, but I did need antibacterial cream and a few butterfly strips to hold the cut on my forehead together while it healed.
Damn fucking Cannibal cunts—thinking they could kill me when I was alone. Their president would have a nasty surprise tomorrow when the local farmer inspected his potato field and found three new varieties sprouting instead.
I’d left a calling card on each—a single worthless diamond. Courtesy of my family and our power over immortality.
There would be no retaliation. They were on our turf—fair and fucking simple.
My muscles ached, my head pounded, but my mind was blessedly clear. I could think straight—free from emotions and pressure. I hadn’t run into anyone since my arrival.
A new prescription for pills rested on my bedside table. As much as I loved this clarity, I couldn’t stomach it come morning. I made a note to take one the moment I’d finished patching myself up.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I popped the lid of the first aid kit and selected a tube of antiseptic.
My door flung wide.
Shit, I forgot to lock the damn thing.
I looked up, expecting to see Kes, my father, or even Daniel popping in for a three a.m. chat. Instead…Nila fucking Weaver stood frozen on the threshold.
I dropped the tube of cream.
She brandished her stolen dirk and a brass candlestick from one of the tables lining the halls. Her hair was untethered—a curtain of midnight—and her black camisole and shorts made my mouth instantly dry up.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
What the hell?
I stood up instantly.
The first aid kit slammed to the floor, spewing its gauze and bandages to all corners of the room.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” I stormed forward, ready to slam the door in her face. She couldn’t be here. Not with my appearance or condition.
“Oh, my God. I found you.”
I grabbed the doorknob. “Go back to your room, Ms. Weaver.”
“No, wait!” She darted inside before I could block her. Dashing to my bed, she ran around the large mattress, placing it between us and brandishing her weapons. “I’ve been looking for hours. I’ve tried every room on the ground floor. I almost gave up when I found a secret door in the parlour.”
She’d been running around all night? Alone? Shit, didn’t she know how fucking dangerous that was?
Daniel wouldn’t hesitate. My father wouldn’t, either.
“You’re a reckless, naïve little girl.” Slamming the door, I stalked toward her. “Do you have any idea what might’ve happened if you’d been seen?”
Her eyes skittered around my space, taking in the soaring high ceilings, old-fashioned priceless toys and artifacts, and Chinese woven carpets. “I have an idea.” She raised her chin. “But it was a risk I was prepared to take. After all, what else could I do?”
Tossing the candlestick onto the bed, she rolled her wrist from the weight. “You avoid me for days after telling me something cryptic about black diamonds and absorbing light. You tell me to stop feeling around you. You shut me out all while swallowing a drug you never took before. All of that brings me to one conclusion, Mr. Hawk.”
“Oh? And what conclusion is that?”
So, she did understand my half-assed attempt to make her understand.
Why couldn’t I just come out and tell her?
Why did I have to continue to hide?
“A conclusion that needs testing.” She sighed softly, “I have a theory, you see. And if I’m right…well, it means things are going to change between you and me.”
My heart tap-danced a crazy step.
You have no idea how much I want that.
“That will never happen.”
“You don’t even know my theory.”
“I know enough to ask you to leave.”
Before you destroy your own life and get me fucking killed in the process.
Having her here, in my space, with no fog to protect me, I tasted everything she felt like fine wine, expensive truffles, rich desserts. Anger, desire, fear…and most of all, love. Beneath her temper, she glowed with it. Vibrated with it.
It was all I could do to remain standing and not buckle under the waves of unconditional acceptance.
I groaned, “Nila, you have to leave.”
“No. Not until I find out what you are.”
I shivered, forgetting my bodily aches and pains and suffering emotional ones instead. She was breaking me—smashing the rules Cut had fashioned. If she could be so strong, why couldn’t I?
Couldn’t I indulge for just one night?
“You don’t understand.” I moved forward. “You can’t be here.”
“Tell me, then.” Placing the dirk on my bedside table, she dropped her hands. In a single move, she went from warrior to sacrifice, inviting me to take her. “Make me understand, Jethro.”
My head swam. I needed time to decide if I was stupid enough to put us both in danger. If I was going to give into her, it could only be for one night.
Inching closer, I murmured, “To find my room, you must’ve gone through my entire quarters.”
Her eyes narrowed at my subject change, but she nodded. “I did. Your room is the last one along the corridor.” Her body softened. “You have so many spaces. Game grottos, offices, a gym. I must’ve peeked into a dozen rooms after slipping through that secret door.”
A lot of space for a man who needed a lot of distance.
It looked like luxury; in reality, it was a gilded cage.
“And doesn’t that tell you something?”
She frowned. “Tell me what?”
“That this part of the Hall is private. I don’t want guests. I don’t want company. I keep my life removed from my family, even though we live in the same house.”
She trembled as I continued to close the distance between us. Each step I took, I fought to be strong enough to send her away. She would remain unhurt as long as I could fake the perfect heir.
The longer she stood in my quarters, the more I struggled to deny her.
Almost as if she followed my thoughts, she whispered, “It doesn’t matter. I’ve found you. Now I know where to come when you disappear and avoid me.”
My hands fisted as delectable thoughts filled my head: sneaking her into my quarters, sleeping beside her, fucking her without cameras reporting to Cut just how disobedient I was.
My jaw clenched. “There won’t be a next time, Nila.” Pointing at the door, I growled, “You have to leave.”
“Why? Give me one good reason and I might consider it.” Abandoning her position by my bed, she came toward me.
I sucked in a breath as her gaze danced over my body. Her fingers twitched as she took in my bleeding forehead and knuckles. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
She lingered over my split lip before her eyes drifted down my still-damp torso to the towel around my waist.
An image of us walking back from the springs dressed only in towels came swift and strong.
I’d never been so free. Never been so happy at the thought of telling her everything and finally admitting that Nila was it for me. That I might have a chance.
It was a pipe dream. And one that got us both into this mess.
“Fuck.” I couldn’t have her in here, and I definitely couldn’t have those thoughts.
I tried to grab her, but she darted away. Jumping onto my bed like fleeing prey, her tiny feet disappeared in the feather duvet as she pranced across the mattress. She leapt down, once again placing the bed between us.
A headache throbbed and the bruises on my ribcage smarted as I ran a hand through my wet hair. “I don’t want to play any more games.”
Never taking her eyes from mine, she placed her palms on my bed. “Neither do I. We’ve both established that.” Her voice lowered. “You’re hurt, Jethro. Let me help you.”
“No. You need to go.”
How many times do I need to tell you?
My eyes flashed to the pills on my bedside. If I took one, the numbness might give me enough reprieve to kick her out.
“Who did this to you?” she murmured, inching closer again, forgetting that her intention was to stay away from me, not comfort me.
Her concern was like a mink blanket, soothingly warm and so, so soft.
I wished she would stay away. Her concern might be a blanket, but her love… Shit, her love was a blade slicing me into pieces.