“Fix me?” My voice came out scratching and sore from previous screaming. “You can’t fix me.”
He didn’t reply.
Instead, he dipped a soft white cloth into the bowl of clear brown liquid and wrung it out.
His eyes met mine then locked onto the mess that was my back. The moment he pressed the warm dampness against a cut, I burst into tears. The lashes roared with everlasting brimstone. “Stop! Ah, it hurts.”
His other hand held me down, petting my head as if I would endanger myself further. “I know it hurts, but I have to clean your wounds before I can bandage them.”
My mind twisted, trying to make sense of this. “Why—why are you the one tending to me?”
He took a while to reply, dipping the now hated rag into the disinfectant concoction and once again searing my skin with purgatory.
“Because you’re mine.”
I hated that reason. “I’m not yours.”
His voice came softly. “There are a lot worse things than being mine, Ms. Weaver. Being under my control means I’ll do anything to keep you safe. Keep you from other’s cruelty. Don’t throw my offer in my face without fully realising what I’m giving you.”
His touch dropped lower, gently dabbing my open sores.
My hands fisted the sheet, breathing hard through my nose. My head ached from tensing, and tears leaked unbidden from my eyes.
“I do know what you’re offering, and I don’t want it.”
The moment I said it, I wanted to snatch the words back.
Iwantedhim on my side.
I wanted him to care for me, so I could use him to exterminate his family like vermin.
“Are you sure?” he murmured. “Are you sure you want to throw away whatever’s building between us?”
I flinched, bracing myself to deny it.There’s nothing building between us.
You always were a hopeless liar, Nila.
How could I admit to an emerging connection between hunter and prey?
Jethro caressed my hair again. “I know what you’re thinking—I know you feel it, too.” He dropped his voice, whispering, “Don’t lie, Ms. Weaver. Not when we both know the truth. Do you deny we’re drawn to each other? Fighting more with ourselves than what we know we shouldn’t feel?”
Silence.
I had no reply. Nothing that wouldn’t give me away.
Jethro continued to rinse and dab, slowly but tenderly cleaning my smarting back.
“You’re strong. Stronger than anyone I’ve met. But still so naïve, which makes you incredibly dangerous.” His touch pulled me deeper into his icy charm.
“What are you trying to do?” I pinched my lips together as a particular sharp lance of pain caught me by surprise. “Why are you saying all of this?”
A minute ticked past.
For the longest moment, I worried he would never reply, just like so many of my questions.
“I don’t know.” His answer ached with confession, cleaving open my chest.
Memories of what happened at the end of the debt repayment took my mind prisoner. “How could you do that? How could you come after hurting me so much?” I pressed my cheek harder against the bed as agony bonfired down my spine. “To get off on drawing blood makes you sadistic. It makes you twisted.”
