Nila sighed, a small hiccup jolted her frame. “How bad are they?”
I struck her. Short and fast. The noise was worse that the bite. I knew. I’d been on the receiving end myself.
“They start easy. Simple really.”
She sucked in a breath, already knowing what I would add.
“Then they get worse.”
I struck her again, loving the bloom of red and the way every muscle in her sinewy body twitched. Throwing the whip to the ground, I murmured, “One more. Don’t be shy.”
Her breath was ragged. “Will—will you ever be nice to me?”
The question hung between us, so at odds to the scene of her on her hands and knees and me positioned behind her. It wrapped around us with sadness, digging the newly placed dagger deeper into my heart.
“I am nice. Once you get to know me.”
Her small laugh surprised both of us. “You’re a lot of things, but nice is not one of them.”
Anger boiled in my stomach. “You pissed me off before I had the opportunity to be nice. Didn’t I say you deserved to be rewarded after this afternoon? I have many things to lavish you with, Ms. Weaver. You only have to give in. Grant me the power. Give up and stop fighting me.” I stroked her spine, gritting my teeth against the ripple of pre-cum shooting up my cock. Goddammit, she was too delicious. Too strong. Too much.
She’s a Weaver.
I shook my head, dispelling everything until only silence remained.
“You must know I can’t do that. I’ve given up power to men all my life. I stupidly let my father control me, believing he knew what was best for me. And you know what that got me? A one-way ticket to hell to play with a devil I never knew existed.” She looked over her shoulder, making eye contact. “Why should I give you that courtesy? Why should I let you rule the remaining shortness of my sad, little life?”
For once, I was speechless.
Nila murmured, “You can’t reply, because you know this is wrong. On some level, you know the only right thing to do is to let me go and forget about this madness, but you won’t. Just like I won’t give you the power you seek. Just like I will never stop fighting you.”
She suddenly shot forward, breaking my hold on her hips.
My heart raced at the thought of her running again, but she turned to face me, kneeling upright so we were eye-to-eye. The muscles in her stomach shadowed in the rapidly gathering darkness, her white skin glowing with interspersed cuts and bruises.
“You said I owe you. I agree. You gave me something in thatdining room. As much as you think you were only helping save my mental state, you showed me more than you probably wanted. Iseeyou, Jethro Hawk. I see what you’re trying to hide, so don’t delude yourself into thinking I buy your hypocritical bullshit.”
Crawling forward, her tiny hands landed on my belt, releasing the button and zipper in one short second. It was my turn to blink in shock.
She’s a seamstress, idiot.
She dealt with buttons and zippers every day—they were her forte. Dealing with what lived behind them however was entirely another.
I hated, positively hated, that she’d stolen my power again. She’d drugged me with her witch potion, making me think only with my dick.
Fisting her hair, I growled, “You’re on thin ground, Ms. Weaver.”
Her temper exploded like a firework. She snarled, “Wrong. I’m on Hawk ground, and I’m still standing. You want me to pay you back? Fine. Tell me what to do, then feed me and take me back to your vile home. I’m ready for this day to end.”
My mind went numb as her hand disappeared into my jeans, cupping me boldly.
“Or better yet, take what I damn well give you.”
Chapter Five
Nila
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