I’D TAKEN HER, but
ultimately, she’d taken me.
I’d tried to destroy her,
but serendipitously, she’d destroyed me.
This was the beginning of
the end.
Not the end of my feelings
for her but the way of my life, my world.
Something would have to
change.
Something would have to
give.
Someone would have to die.
I EXISTED WITH a brain full of betrayal,
schemes, and plotting.
Living with the Hawks was utterly
exhausting. Every day was a challenge to figure out the truths from the lies.
But no matter how hard I worked, I could never seem to unravel reality from
fiction.
He’d won.
And with a winner came a loser. One triumphant
and one depressed. A trophy over misery.
Two days had passed since Kestrel had
granted the truth to one huge mystery. Two days in which I hadn’t been able to
think of anything else.
I wanted to hate Jethro for duping me—for
stringing me along like an idiot.
But whenever my anger boiled over,
needing desperately to confront him, I remembered one thing.
One important, vital thing.
He’d initiated contact before he was
told.
He’d communicated with me almost as if it
were a cry for help, rather than a plot to deceive.
If this were another trick, then so help
him, I’d find a way to castrate him.
But, somehow, I didn’t think it was.
I had a horrible feeling this was the one
way that he would let me in. An avenue of truths that he felt comfortable
enough to continue, because a silent written word didn’t have as much weight as
a loudly spoken one.
Which brought me back to my vitally important
conclusion:
Jethro wants to be honest.
He wanted to stop playing charades and show me everything he kept hidden.
He wanted to talk to someone. Perhaps, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t satisfied with the hand life dealt him and…
Stop fabricating excuses.
All day, I’d been coming up with theories on why he was how he was and reading too far into things that he’d done.
It could be as simple as: he’d been told to get in touch. Told to initiate contact in a way that could potentially mould me into a more submissive captive, especially if I were to believe he was on my side.
I wanted to believe he’d acted against his father. But no matter how much I wished it, it didn’t make it was true.
How do you explain the knowing then?
I slouched against my pillows in bed. That was true. A part of me just seemed to know. Call it either sheer idiocy or feminine intuition. I believed he’d texted me because I was the first outsider permitted into his world—the only one not a Hawk.
My brain hurt.
When we were alone, when we weren’t arguing or fighting, there was an enchanting calmness. A connection.
Closing my eyes, I let my mind skip back to Kes’s unwilling promise. The way his eyes had darkened with secrets as I’d collapsed into his arms from the vertigo spell two days ago.
“Nila?”
A crushing headache appeared from nowhere. It was the most I could do to stay present and not permit my mind to relive every text Jethro had sent to see the hidden agendas now that I knew it was him.
“I’m—I’m okay. You can let me go.” I struggled out of Kes’s embrace, my skin humming from his touch. I needed some space. I needed a world full of space to get over the treachery and lies.
“You didn’t know? You hadn’t guessed?” Kes crossed his arms, never taking his golden eyes from mine.
I glowered. “How could I know? I thought the messages were from you!”
He flinched. “Yes, that was the plan. To make you believe it was me, so he could continue on with whatever little mind games he was playing.” Leaning closer, he added, “I haven’t been privy to any of the messages he sent you or you sent him—so don’t feel like I’ve intruded on details that I shouldn’t.”
Anger infused my blood. “If you were both in on it—why didn’t he show you the messages? Why were you so nice to me? What does all of this mean?”
Kes moved away, reclining against a sapling. “I was nice because that’s just who I am. Yes, I come from a family with twisted up morals and I’m loyal to those twisted up morals, but I also did it out of loyalty to my brother. If you’re pissed, direct it all on him. Not me.”
“Oh, believe me. I’m pissed. Beyond pissed.” My hands balled as my mind filled with crazy ideas of retribution and revenge. I would make him pay.
“I’d cool down before you spring it on him. Best to keep it quiet. Cut doesn’t know. It was just me who knew Jet had been in touch with you before he was given the go-ahead to collect you in Milan.”
I froze. “Why did he initiate conversation with me almost five weeks before he could claim me?”
Kes shook his head. “The day I understand my brother is the day I’ll gamble my entire inheritance on the stock market. I can’t work him out. The only thing I can do is be there for him. And I only found out ‘cause he changed pretty much around the same time he started messaging you. Something was different—we’re close. So, I saw it before the others.”
My brain throbbed trying to figure out just what had changed in Jethro. He’d seemed the perfect Hawk when he’d come to collect me. Cold as ice and deadly as a sword.
Now that I knew his secret, I had power. And I had no intention of giving that power back. Jethro had been playing me for far too long. He’d successfully screwed with my head. It was time for payback. “Don’t tell him that I know.”
Kes’s eyes popped wide. “Pardon?”
“You heard me. Don’t tell Jethro about today. Let him continue to think I’m clueless.” My heart frothed with rage and unhappiness. I was so stupid to believe I’d gotten through to him on some level. The sex between us left both of us stripped bare. Something more than family feuds and hatred existed when he slid inside me and sent both of us shattering into dust.
I’d let him inside me. In so many ways. It was my turn to do the same.
“You know I can’t do that, Nila. As welcome as you are in our household, and as much as I like hanging out with you, I can’t betray Jet. Not after everything he’s been through.”
I pounced on the small thread of truth about my tormentor. “What has he been through, Kes? Tell me and I’ll march back to the Hall right now and tell him myself.”
Kes shifted uncomfortably, refusing to meet my eyes. “Slip of the tongue. Forget it.”
Crossing my arms, I hissed, “Fine. Seeing as you’re so capable of keeping secrets, keep this one for me.”
Kes scowled. “Keeping my own flesh and blood’s issues hidden isn’t the same thing as helping out a Weaver.”
My heart raced. If Jethro hadn’t taught me how to stand up for myself, I would’ve cowered at the thought of being so pushy with a full-grown man all alone in a forest. Now, I was raging and fully intended to get my own way. “Give me two
weeks. Two weeks before you tell him that I know. Do that and I’ll be forever
grateful.”
His
shoulders slumped in defeat. “How can you be forever grateful when forever
isn’t something anyone has.”
Especially
me, seeing as my lifespan was destined to be significantly shorter than his.
“Just…please,
Kestrel. One favour.”
It took
him a while to give in. His allegiance to his brother was strong.
Finally,
he huffed. “Fine. But it won’t save you from his temper when he finds out.”
However, I had no intention of suffering
Jethro’s wrath. I had every right to deceive him after he did it to me. My
revelations were safe—for now. I trusted that Kes wouldn’t say anything. I
didn’t know why, but on some level I did
trust Kes—just enough to use him in my plans. And I was fully committed to
tripping Jethro up.
It was his turn to divulge things he
might not have if he’d known the truth. Hiding behind the pretence that Kite
was Kes had made him softer the past few weeks. I would use that chink to make
the crevice I’d been trying to form since I gave him a blowjob after hunting me
down.
I couldn’t think about anything else. I
couldn’t focus on sketching, sewing, reading.
Nothing.
My brain was a whirly-gig of Jethro.
Kite. Jethro. Kite.
And I’d had enough.
Throwing myself out of bed after another
sleepless night, I wrenched back the curtains and glowered at the dismal
weather.
The watery dawn did nothing to inspire
either anger or contentment. The sky was grey. Fog looked like haunting ghosts,
threading its ghoulish tentacles over the lower woodland of the estate. No
birds chirped or sun shone.
Summer had truly abandoned us. The bite
in the air shouted ‘go back to bed where it’s warm’ but my brain had no such
intention.
I hadn’t relaxed for two days. I’d stared
at my phone, determined to text Jethro and trip him into revealing everything
he kept secret, only to stare blankly at an empty message.
Now that I knew it was him, my
willingness to show so much had gone. Knowledge was power and he had too much
of mine already. How could I dig deeper into his mystery while maintaining all
of mine?
The answer—I couldn’t. And that made me
incredibly nervous. To find out who he truly was, I had to show everything that
made me real. And despite the emotional growth spurt I’d endured at the hands
of the Hawks, I wasn’t ready to evolve again. I’d lost so much of myself
already—how much was I prepared to leave behind before I became a perfect
stranger?
“Ah!” I dug my fingers into my hair. I
needed a reprieve from my racing thoughts, and I knew exactly how to do it.
Mother Nature’s sudden urge to switch
seasons from summer to winter couldn’t stop my itch.
I needed fresh air, and I needed it now.
Racing around my room in the new Weaver
quarters where Jethro had made me beg and come apart with his cock deep inside
me, I found my black spandex shorts and highlighter pink sports bra. Pulling
the clothing on, followed by my sneakers, I quickly smoothed my hair into a
bun, and shot from the room.
I hadn’t worn my exercise gear since the
morning of the Milan runway show. I’d sprinted until I’d collapsed off the
treadmill at the hotel, hoping I could dispel my anxiety enough to hide my
stupid nerves and prevent a vertigo spell in front of the press.
It had worked—mainly. Until Jethro
arrived, of course.
The moment when I’d set eyes upon him,
I’d been done for. He’d been so dashing with his suit, tie, and diamond pin. So
perfectly refined with his elegant haircut, chiselled physique, and sculptured
lips. Even though his soul was dark, his body had summoned me.
He’d called to me, and like the stupid
Weaver I was, I’d followed him blindly.
Now, it’s
his turn to follow my whims, my rules.
Jogging down the corridor, my racing mind
and temper eased, already reacting to the stress relief I’d sought all my life.
I need
him out.
It wasn’t fair. I was supposed to seduce
him and make him care for me—not the
other way around. I wasn’t supposed to fall for my own games.
Lust was as dangerous as love. Only it
was worse because it had the power to make even the worst ideas seem
plausible—and even recommended—when a sexual reward was given.
The moment Jethro gave in and kissed me,
I’d betrayed more than just myself. I’d betrayed my entire family line and all
the Weaver women who’d died before me.
I had feelings for him.
A dangerous softness toward my
would-be-killer.
It has to
end.
I had to find a way to seduce him…to make
him love me, all while I kept my heart frigid and locked away in an ice
fortress.
I laughed under my breath. You sound just like him. I wanted to
turn into the female equivalent of his glacial shell.
Only, ice wasn’t impervious. Ice melted
and succumbed to fire.
I’d proven that over the past month.
The house breathed around me with gentle
heartbeats only ancient dwellings could have. Spirits of past generations lived
in its walls, revenants danced in the drapery, and figments of long forgotten
lovers floated through the tapestries.
A grandfather clock tick-tocked as I
jogged past, showing the time at six thirty a.m.
After being privy to the business
meetings with Kes and the Black Diamonds, I knew the men never got up this
early. They worked late, dealing with shipments and the transportation of
stones worth more than any dress I could sew. Darkness was their asset, the sun
their foe.
At least I could run and be back before
anyone tried to stop me.
I didn’t want them to draw the wrong
conclusion that I was trying to escape again. I blinked as I ran head first
into a horrendous conclusion.
Even if
you found the boundary this morning, you wouldn’t leave.
My heart thumped harder at the tangled
web I lived.
Freedom was something I wanted more than
anything. But even if I escaped the Hawks, I would only run back into the trap
of pity and vertigo. I wanted more than that. I deserved more than that.
If I found the estate edge, I wouldn’t
disappear. I couldn’t.
My captivity wasn’t just about me
anymore. It was about the future. It was about Jethro.
Admit it…
It was about living.
The passion, the intensity, the blazing
ferocity of existing with enemies and plotting beneath their noses was a much
worthier cause than sitting at home sewing for the masses.
This was about me. Me standing up for
myself, and for a future I wanted, not a future already planned for me.
This was about so many twisted things.
I wrenched open the French doors at the
end of the corridor and stumbled into the foggy dawn. Fresh air welcomed me and
I found a reprieve from my scrambled thoughts.
I can’t
forget my ultimate plan.
No matter how Jethro endeared himself to
me—giving me glimpses of someone barely coping inside his wintry armor—I wasn’t
going to forget my goal.
Freedom.
Not just for myself, but for the rest of
my legacy. My children and their children and their children’s children would
never have to go through this. I intended to be the last Weaver stolen.
It’s time
for a new debt—one that owes us life, not death.
Sucking in lungfuls of crisp air, I
steeled myself in what I had to do. In order to win, I had to guard my soul. I
had to play along with Jethro’s mind games and hope to God I won first.
A cool breeze whistled through the trees,
sounding like haunted laments. I shivered, wishing I’d brought a jacket.
You’ll be
sweating in ten minutes. Ignore it.
Gritting my teeth against the cold, I
bent over and stretched my quads. The tug and slow release of muscles was
heaven after the stress of the past few days.
My body hummed with the knowledge it was
about to run.
And run.
And run.
For fun this time, not for survival.
Bouncing on the spot, I rolled my
shoulders, eyeing up the sweeping lawn before me. If I went right, I’d loop
around the stables. If I went left, I’d cut through the sprawling rose garden
and orchards.
Go
straight.
Down the meandering path that disappeared
over the horizon.
I switched from bouncing to jogging.
“And just where do you think you’re
going?” a cool voice whispered through the silver fog.
I wrenched to a stop, peering behind me.
No one.
“I thought you’d realised running wasn’t
a viable option, Ms. Weaver.”
His icy voice sent a strange mixture of
hot and cold desire down my spine. Jethro morphed into being, seeming to
solidify from the mist like a terrible poltergeist. He leaned against one of
the pillars holding up the portico, crossing his arms.
My heart collapsed, unable to untangle
the maze of hypocrisy between us. My skin begged for his touch. My lips tingled
for his. Every inch of me craved what
he could deliver.
Heat. Passion. An eruption that I felt in
every cell.
But none of that was real.
And I refused to believe in trickery any
longer.
Mirroring his body language, I crossed my
arms. “I realise escaping isn’t a
viable option. But I’m not escaping. I’m running. Running is my only option to escape the mess you’ve
made.”
His jaw clenched. “The mess I’ve made?”
“Yes.” I took a step backward as he
advanced. “You’re messing me up, and I’m done playing whatever it is that
you’re doing.” I sucked in courage and embraced honesty. It seemed to work
around him, and I needed him to see how serious I was. How hurt I was with his
deception.
He’s
Kite.
Bastard.
Baring my teeth, I said, “It seems I have
a weakness for you, but I changed my mind. I don’t—”
A low growl escaped him. “A weakness? You
call what happened between us a fucking weakness?”
My breathing ratcheted as if I’d already
run two miles. “The worst kind of weakness.”
He smiled, but no mirth entered his gaze.
If anything, his golden eyes were luminous with anger. “You’re the one who started
it…Nila.”
I gasped at the delicious decadence of my
name on his lips. The sound echoed in his mouth, shooting straight to my core.
Shit.
Jethro advanced again, his body trembling
with barely veiled lust. “You’re the
one who created this problem.” His hand came up, fingers slinking through my
tied-up hair, tightening around the back of my skull. “I can’t hear the name
Weaver without getting fucking hard. I can’t even think of you without boiling
with need.”
His nose brushed against mine, his lips
so damn close to stealing all my scrambled plans and sending me headfirst into
a life of debauchery.
“You should never have said those two
words, Ms. Weaver. I told you. We’re both fucked now.”
My mind was blank, every synapse focusing
on his fingers in my hair and his mouth only millimetres from mine. “What two
words?”
He chuckled. The sound was
self-deprecating and almost morbid with dark intensity. “Kiss me.”
I shivered in his hold. “You’re reminding
me of what started this mess, or you’re asking me to kiss you?”
Ask me.
And I will. God, how I will.
I’d kiss him until I’d stripped him of
his arctic armor and destroyed it, I’d lick him until I tasted his truth, and
I’d bite him until I’d eaten every morsel of his soul.
I’d do all that so he had nowhere left to
hide.
We stood wrapped in foggy silence. The
drawn out anticipation of a kiss turned my legs to jelly. If he pressed his
mouth to mine, I wouldn’t be going for my run. I would climb his body and
impale myself on his cock.
Fakery be damned.
Kite’s messages and deceit be damned.
I just wanted a raw connection—with this
man, who made my soul whimper for wrongness.
Jethro’s tongue slipped between his lips,
hypnotising me. Then…he let me go. “No, I’m not asking you to kiss me. I won’t
ever ask anything from you.”
I flinched as if he’d slapped me. “Why
not?”
“Because I own you. Everything I want
will be given, not requested.”
Double
shit.
I should hate him. I should smite him.
So, why did his every word seduce me, even while I knew his morals were
chauvinistic and heartless?
Forcing my body to obey, I shoved the
weakness I had for him as far away as possible. My eyes trailed down his front.
He wore tan jodhpurs, black riding boots, and a tweed jacket. The bulge between
his legs looked heavy and far too dangerous to be legal.
“You’ve been riding.”
A gentle gust of early morning air blew
his scent directly into my nose. I inhaled, soaking my lungs in hay, horse, and
all things Jethro.
He nodded, crossing his arms once again.
“You run. I ride. Seems we have something else in common.”
Something
other than being forced into this debt and finding each other irresistible, you
mean?
“Oh, what’s that?”
Jethro stepped closer, seeming to bring
shadows into the smoky light of dawn. “We both need time alone to hide from the
things that chase us.” He stiffened, his eyes churning with things he refused
to voice. A five o’ clock shadow decorated his strong jaw, his lips parted
while his gaze was pure brimstone.
Swiftly, he cupped my cheek.
Oh, God.
Electricity instantly sparked beneath his
fingertips.
Would I always suffer the rhapsody of his
touch?
My skin smouldered; pinpricks of light, of
fire, of hell, all burnished beneath his hold. I swayed, pressing my face
harder into his palm.
He sucked in a breath, his fingers
digging harder against my cheekbone.
The chemistry and need to devour each
other thickened with every heartbeat.
One beat.
Two beat.
Three.
We stood there, frozen on the stoop of
Hawksridge Hall just waiting for the other to move. The moment we did, our
clothes would disintegrate and I would willingly let him drag me into a bush
and fuck me.
Lust and tension swirled.
I had so many questions and doubts; so
many reasons to hate and fear him. But when he touched me…poof.
I no longer remembered, nor cared.
We swayed closer, drawn against our will
to close the aching distance.
I couldn’t breathe.
Kiss me.
Please, kiss me.
The moment stretched until it hummed with
overwhelming possibilities.
Then, it snapped.
Loudly.
Painfully.
Shattering around our feet.
“You’re too fucking dangerous,” Jethro
muttered, removing his touch and stepping away. Dragging his hand through his
hair, he commanded, “Wait here. Don’t go anywhere.” His hands went to his
jacket buttons, undoing them with nimble fingers.
I blinked, struggling to shed myself of
heavy need and focus on the true reason why I stood barely dressed in the
freezing morning. “I’m not escaping. I’ll be back in forty minutes or so.”
He shook his head, slipping out of his
tweed and revealing a black long-sleeved jumper.
My mouth went dry. Even in clothing, I
could make out every ridge of muscle in his stomach, every ripple of energy as
he breathed in and out. He was designed straight from my fantasies, and I hated
him for being so splendid.
My core clenched, sending flutters of
wetness between my legs.
I hadn’t seen him in two days, yet I’d
panted after him as if he’d been missing my entire life.
If he suspected I knew that he was Kite,
he hadn’t let on. After Kes had told me the truth, I’d waited for Jethro to
barge into my room and swear me to secrecy.
But he hadn’t.
He didn’t look at me any differently; he
gave no outward sign that his lies had begun to unravel. As much as he
confounded and frustrated me, I couldn’t help admiring his perfection at
hiding.
I wanted to be like him. I wanted to
protect my secrets so damn well that whatever I did next would come as a
surprise.
I wanted to rule him.
“I’m coming with you. Don’t leave.” He
disappeared into the house, leaving me abandoned and covered in chills from
both the morning air and his departure
Jogging on the spot, I deliberated
ignoring him and leaving.
Just go.
What was the worst that could happen?
He’d have to chase me again. My tummy coiled at the thought. I liked that idea
way too much. I liked the thought of what would happen after he found me.
The power I’d felt giving him that
blowjob. The awe and attraction that’d glowed in his eyes.
I want
that again.
Screw waiting like a good little captive.
Make him
hunt.
And then I would make him explode.
I bolted.
Pre-Order
AVAILABLE
Release
Date: January 26th
Blurb
“I tried to play a game. I tried to wield deceit as
perfectly as the Hawks. But when I thought I was winning, I wasn’t. Jethro
isn’t what he seems—he’s the master of duplicity. However, I refuse to let him
annihilate me further.”
Nila Weaver has grown from naïve seamstress to full-blown
fighter. Every humdrum object is her arsenal, and sex…sex is her greatest
weapon of all.
She’s paid the First Debt. She’ll probably pay more.
But she has no intention of letting the Hawks win.
Jethro Hawk has found more than a worthy adversary in
Nila—he’s found the woman who could destroy him. There’s a fine line between
hatred and love, and an even finer path between fear and respect.
Series Reading Order
Debt
Interitance (Indebted #1) ONLY $0.99
First Debt
(Indebted #2)
Second Debt
(Indebted #3) January 26th:
Amazon: TBD
Nook: TBD
About
the Author:
Pepper
Winters wears many roles. Some of them include writer, reader, sometimes wife.
She loves dark, taboo stories that twist with your head. The more tortured the
hero, the better, and she constantly thinks up ways to break and fix her
characters. Oh, and sex... her books have sex.
She loves
to travel and has an amazing, fabulous hubby who puts up with her love affair
with her book boyfriends.
Her Dark
Erotica books include:
Tears of
Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)
Quintessentially
Q (Monsters in the Dark #2)
Her Grey
Romance books include:
Destroyed
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