I’d break.
She rattled with the pieces of her broken heart, and just once, I wanted to give in to the benevolence that others enjoyed.
But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t stand there while she grieved.
It just wasn’t possible.
Not for a man like me.
Sighing, I said, “Fine. Stay. Pay your respects and worship the dead, but you’ll do it alone.”
You’ll do it alone, so I don’t lose the rest of my soul.
This wasn’t a good place for a Hawk, but in a way, it was home to a Weaver. She might find whatever she was missing by conversing with her past.
“I’ll—I’ll leave you alone.”
Nila balled her hands, looking as if she wanted to strike me. “Disappear, Mr. Hawk. Run like you always do. Good fucking riddance. Leave. Get the hell away from me and don’t come back!”
I paused for a fraction. I should do something about her outburst—teach her that I wouldn’t permit her to raise her voice, but I was done here.
Taking another step away, I said, “I’ll see you back at the Hall.”
She didn’t reply.
With a black-laced heart and thundering headache, I backed away, faster and faster. Her arms wrapped around her body and her hair danced in the turbulent breeze. She looked like a witch placing a curse upon my house. Then she collapsed at the base of her mother’s tombstone, bowing in the dirt. I left her with only ghosts for company, kneeling on the grave of her ancestors.
Shuddering once, I turned and didn’t look back.
Chapter Four
Nila
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I GOT MY wish.
My wish to become as cold and as merciless as Jethro came true as I huddled on my mother’s grave. My sweaty skin turned to ice with renewed hatred for the Hawks. I struggled with rage so damn strong I was sure the earth would crack beneath me and swallow me whole.
How could he?
How could they?
How could devils live so blatantly amongst us?
My teeth ached from clenching; my eyes bruised with unshed tears.
I breathed revenge. I ate vengeance. All I saw was hate.
I felt invincible with rage, as if I controlled the tectonic plates and had the power to summon a catastrophic earthquake to devour this disease-riddled place forever.
How could any goodness live inside me when all I wanted was four graves—one for each of the Hawk men? How could I believe in right and wrong when all I wanted was their blackened hearts bleeding at my feet?
Morning turned to noon.
Afternoon turned to dusk.
