Jethro #3
My heart raced as her hair fell to the hay, entwining gold with black. She shivered and hiccupped with teary breaths, but she didn’t stop me. If anything, her shoulders relaxed and she let me fix the agony my family had caused.
I took my time.
I stroked her like I would any broken filly, reminding her that I cared and adored and would never hurt her. The soft thickness of her hair slipped through my fingers, slicing into uniformity the more I tended.
Not only did I fix her hair, but I fixed her soul, too. I sensed her reforming, gluing her scattered pieces, slipping back into the Nila I knew and worshipped.
I fell in love with her even more at the strength it took to come back from the brink of losing herself.
And she did it for me.
Under my touch, she came alive.
Under my willpower, she breathed freely and with a smidgen of happiness.
It didn’t take long, working my way around her jaw, I combed the ebony strands. With a final snip, I sat back, drinking her in, reacquainting myself with this new woman who held my heart as surely as the one I’d left behind.
Cupping her face, I brushed aside the jaw-length hair and kissed her softly. “You’re somehow even more beautiful, Needle.”
She gasped.
The nickname I’d used in our texts slipped off my tongue effortlessly. The word symbolised everything I loved about her. Everything I’d grown to adore.
Her lips parted, welcoming me to kiss her deeper.
I groaned as I slinked my tongue into her mouth, licking her sadness and doing my best for her to see the truth.
I would never be free of her. Ever.
Silently, we lay on the hay, face-to-face, kissing gently. My fingers slipped into her hair, massaging her scalp, keeping her there in my arms instead of in her head with torment.
Time passed, and still, we kissed and existed. Silent and safe, falling in love all over again. We gave each other a sense of normalcy we’d never had before—pretending this was our world where nothing could ever touch us.
Finally, I pulled back, stroking her cheek with my knuckles. “I take it Bones delivered my message.”
“Bones?”
“The kestrel.”
Nila’s face lit up for the first time since I’d seen her. The pain of her shorn hair faded a little. “Yes. I had no idea birds of prey could be trained to do that.”
I flopped onto my back, hiding the wince of agony.
Fucking Nila standing up hadn’t exactly been recommended for a healing patient.
“They can do all manner of things.” My lips twitched, remembering what we’d done to Jasmine when we were younger.
I over animated to keep Nila entertained, doing my best to forget about her hair and enjoy our peace together.
“For example, Kes once trained a hawk to fly into Jasmine’s room and deliver dead voles every evening just to piss her off.
She’d screech and chase the bird all the way back to the mews. ”
“Mews?”
“Aviary.” I waved my hand in the direction of the kennels. “Last count, I think we had six raptors on the estate. They live in the converted loft of the kennels. The bird I sent you will have returned home after delivering its message.”
Nila played with a piece of hay, still quieter than normal. “First, I find out there are pigs hiding here and now birds. The longer I live at Hawksridge the more I realise how little I know.”
And do you want to know more?
As much as I hated my father’s hierarchy, I loved this estate. The Hall had no hold on me—it could be rubble for all I cared, but I loved the land. The acres of freedom and sanctuary and wildlife.
Eventually, when evil was eradicated, I hoped Nila would adopt this place as hers and make it as pure as she was.
Those are thoughts for after this is all over.
I frowned as I concentrated on the other part of her sentence. “Pigs?”
Her face tightened. “Forget it.”
I went to argue, but she arched her chin, dragging my eyes down her throat to the small stain on her nightgown.
A few crimson droplets soaked through the white cotton.
“What the hell is that?” I shot upright.
My own pain couldn’t stop myself from feeling hers.
I let my condition strengthen, searching for her secrets, trying to learn how she’d become injured.
I know how.
My fists clenched.
Nila immediately placed a hand over the cut on her breastbone. “It’s nothing.”
“Like fuck, it’s nothing.” Knocking her hand away, I glowered. “Who did that to you?” Cold rage settled over my soul. Her tension and secrets waked around me. “Who did it, Nila? Answer me.”
Her face contorted; she looked away. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter. You saw my hair...this was nothing compared to that.”
Catching her chin, I brought her eyes to mine. “It fucking matters to me. I need to know.” All I wanted to do was storm into Hawksridge and repeatedly stab my father in the motherfucking heart. I wanted him to feel the pain of dying. I wanted him to suffer forever. “Cut?”
She squeezed her eyes. More emotion washed from her—fear, sickness, weakness, guilt. What the fuck did she have to be guilty about?
Glancing at the two deep cuts marring her perfection, I knew Jasmine was right. The marks could’ve only been caused by one apparatus.
“That fucking cocksucker. He used the Heretic’s Fork.”
She flinched. “How did you—”
“What else have they done to you, Nila? Your hair, your skin.” I rubbed my face, unable to shed the self-loathing for leaving her in the hands of my father and brother. “You should’ve texted me, told me what they were doing.”
She sat up. “How did you guess about the Heretic’s Fork?”
I scowled. “At least one person tells me the truth rather than trying to hide it to make me feel better.”
She looked away, anger lighting her eyes. “Jasmine.”
“Yes, Jasmine.” Grabbing her wrist, I forced her to look at me. “The sister who I tasked to keep you safe. The woman you were supposed to trust and tell if you needed help or protection.” I wanted to shake her. “Yet you didn’t. You endured and lied to me that everything was fine—”
She snatched her hand out of my grip. “What was I supposed to do, Kite? I thought you were dead. I became someone I didn’t recognise. And then I heard you were alive and I made a promise to stay that way so we could end this together.”
Her eyes lowered, cutting me off. “Besides, I’ve lived through worse. I just had a weak moment before coming here tonight, that’s all.”
“That isn’t all and you know it.” I swallowed hard as her emotions shouted the obvious while her mouth refused to speak. “You’re on the edge, Nila. I sense it.” Grabbing her shoulders, I shook her. “Goddammit, you’re stronger than they are. Don’t let them win. Promise me.”
She’d lived through worse at my hands.
The ducking stool. The whipping.
But I’d hurt her the most by not being there for her.
“God, Nila.” I brought my knees up, caging myself in. This position had been preferred when I was a kid. Knees up, arms braced, head down—a little fortress from the overwhelming intensity I couldn’t switch off. “I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve done.”
My eyes pricked with fury at who I’d let myself become. For being so fucking weak.
Nila darted to her knees, snuggling against me. “Stop. You don’t need forgiveness. We’ve moved past that.”
“I’ll never move past that. Not as long as I live.” Looking into her black gaze, I vowed, “I’ll never stop making it up to you.”
She smiled sadly. “There’s nothing to make up.” Cupping my cheek, she ran her thumb over my bottom lip. “After what you just did for me—cutting my hair, giving me back what I’d lost—we’re even. You came back from the dead for me, Kite. You’ve proven yourself far more than words ever could.”
Lashing out, I wrapped an arm around her, hugging her fierce. “I can never again feel your pain. It fucking crippled me before, but it would murder me now.”
She shook her head. “The only pain I’ll ever feel from you, Jethro, is if you die again.” She snorted quietly, doing her best to lighten the mood. “So, promise you won’t do that and the rest will be fine.”
“The only pain I ever want to endure is pain endured protecting and deserving you.”
She stiffened. “What does that mean?”
It means I have a plan to end this but war has casualties on both sides.
“Nothing.” Brushing away her short hair, I nuzzled into her neck. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Silence fell between us. She wanted to ask more questions, the barbs of curiosity stuck into my skin like thorns, but she swallowed them back.
“You haven’t asked me how I escaped to come see you.” Wriggling out of my embrace, she lay on her back, patting the blanket beside her. “They keep my door locked now, so I couldn’t run through the Hall.”
Reclining again, I inconspicuously held my healing side, granting some pressure from the building discomfort. “How did you get out then?”
Her teeth flashed in the darkness. “I scaled the downpipe outside my bathroom and used the grass lattice on the turret to shimmy to the ground.”
I groaned. “Shit, Nila.” Hawksridge had evolved over the centuries—indoor plumbing being a new addition with unsightly pipes ruining the prettiness of the facade.
My ancestors had done their best to hide them with lattice grass, growing the patchwork up the building.
It would’ve been an easy climb, but not for someone with the inconvenience of vertigo. “That was stupid.”
If I had known she’d had to sneak and risk breaking her neck, I wouldn’t have summoned her.
Who are you kidding?
I would’ve gone after her if she hadn’t gotten my note. Being on the estate—being so close but so far—I couldn’t stand it. “You could’ve fallen.” I traced her pretty neck beneath the wreath of diamonds. “You could’ve hurt yourself for nothing.”
“Nothing? You’re hardly nothing.” She shivered under my touch. “I would’ve flown here with broken bones just to be with you.”
The air switched from stagnant to electric.