Jasmine pursed her lips. “My mother is of no consequence. Besides, I’m the protégé of Bonnie Hawk. I have more than enough maternal guidance.”
That was the second time I’d heard of Bonnie Hawk. Kes had told me she was in charge of the family’s expenses—his grandmother.
As much as I wanted to meet this elusive woman who held an entire family of men under her thumb, I wanted to stay under her notice for as long as possible.
We sat in silence for a time, before Jasmine said, “You should go. And don’t tell Jethro you came to see me. He wouldn’t handle that well.”
“Why?”
She stared for a long moment, as if deciding what to divulge. Finally, she said, “Because in his mind, we are both his. Both under his protection and both in our own little pockets of reality where he can cope. If he knew we’d met and discussed him, the pressure of keeping us protected would increase.”
I felt like a parrot as I asked again, “Why?”
“Because, Nila Weaver, he’s been raised having no one to protecthim and living in a world where just the hint of being who he truly was meant he could be gone tomorrow. Ever since he could understand the differences between him and our father, he’s lived with the shadow of his own mortality. Cut wouldn’t hesitate, you see...”
She swallowed, a sudden flare of pain filling her gaze. “He’s lived twenty-nine years hiding, because if he didn’t, one day he’d be gone and he’d leave me all alone. Knowing that we had met would only give him something else to fear.”
My heart pounded with every word she spoke. “Fear?”
Jasmine hunched, her voice drifting to a fateful whisper. “Fear what we spoke about. Fear how much of his nature came to light. Fear just how much you knew, because ultimately, it’s not him who has the power to destroy you—but you who has the power to destroy him.”
* * * * *
By the time I crawled into my bed, my head hadn’t stopped spinning.
Jasmine was prickly and wise—an enigma who adored her brother and would do anything to protect him.
Her words were an invitation but also a threat to stay away.
Would she soften if she knew I’d fallen for him?
Would she help me understand him—grant me the help I needed to claim Jethro for my own?
She was as confusing as her brother.
And I knew our conversation hadn’t ended. I would return. Again and again.
Until I learned the truth.
But I also had other questions—many, many questions.
It hadn’t escaped my notice that she sewed. There’d been an in-progress cross-stitch on her bed, along with a paper chart folded haphazardly. Was she like me and enjoyed the simple creation...or...was it more sinister?
Could she be more Weaver than Hawk?
And if she was...what did that mean?
I tossed and turned, unable to shut off the voices inside my head forming outlandish conclusions.
Just as the dawn stole the stars, sleep finally crept over me.
But it wasn’t restful.
Yet more questions chased me into dreamland.
Why did Jasmine never come down from her room?
And who truly wielded the power of the Hawks?
