The nickname I’d used in our texts slipped off my tongue effortlessly. The word symbolised everything I loved about her. Everything I’d grown to adore.
Her lips parted, welcoming me to kiss her deeper.
I groaned as I slinked my tongue into her mouth, licking her sadness and doing my best for her to see the truth.
I would never be free of her. Ever.
Silently, we lay on the hay, face-to-face, kissing gently. My fingers slipped into her hair, massaging her scalp, keeping her there in my arms instead of in her head with torment.
Time passed, and still, we kissed and existed. Silent and safe, falling in love all over again. We gave each other a sense of normalcy we’d never had before—pretending this was our world where nothing could ever touch us.
Finally, I pulled back, stroking her cheek with my knuckles. “I take it Bones delivered my message.”
“Bones?”
“The kestrel.”
Nila’s face lit up for the first time since I’d seen her. The pain of her shorn hair faded a little. “Yes. I had no idea birds of prey could be trained to do that.”
I flopped onto my back, hiding the wince of agony. Fucking Nila standing up hadn’t exactly been recommended for a healing patient. “They can do all manner of things.” My lips twitched, remembering what we’d done to Jasmine when we were younger. I over animated to keep Nila entertained, doing my best to forget about her hair and enjoy our peace together. “For example, Kes once trained a hawk to fly into Jasmine’s room and deliver dead voles every evening just to piss her off. She’d screech and chase the bird all the way back to the mews.”
“Mews?”
“Aviary.” I waved my hand in the direction of the kennels. “Last count, I think we had six raptors on the estate. They live in the converted loft of the kennels. The bird I sent you will have returned home after delivering its message.”
Nila played with a piece of hay, still quieter than normal. “First, I find out there are pigs hiding here and now birds. The longer I live at Hawksridge the more I realise how little I know.”
And do you want to know more?
As much as I hated my father’s hierarchy, I loved this estate. The Hall had no hold on me—it could be rubble for all I cared, but I loved the land. The acres of freedom and sanctuary and wildlife.
Eventually, when evil was eradicated, I hoped Nila would adopt this place as hers and make it as pure as she was.
Those are thoughts for after this is all over.
I frowned as I concentrated on the other part of her sentence. “Pigs?”
Her face tightened. “Forget it.”
I went to argue, but she arched her chin, dragging my eyes down her throat to the small stain on her nightgown. A few crimson droplets soaked through the white cotton. “What the hell is that?” I shot upright. My own paincouldn’t stop myself from feeling hers. I let my condition strengthen, searching for her secrets, trying to learn how she’d become injured.
I know how.
My fists clenched.
Nila immediately placed a hand over the cut on her breastbone. “It’s nothing.”
“Like fuck, it’s nothing.” Knocking her hand away, I glowered. “Who did that to you?” Cold rage settled over my soul. Her tension and secrets waked around me. “Who did it, Nila? Answer me.”
Her face contorted; she looked away. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter. You saw my hair...this was nothing compared to that.”
Catching her chin, I brought her eyes to mine. “It fucking matters to me. I need to know.” All I wanted to do was storm into Hawksridge and repeatedly stab my father in the motherfucking heart. I wanted him to feel the pain of dying. I wanted him to suffer forever. “Cut?”
She squeezed her eyes. More emotion washed from her—fear, sickness, weakness, guilt. What the fuck did she have to be guilty about?
Glancing at the two deep cuts marring her perfection, I knew Jasmine was right. The marks could’ve only been caused by one apparatus.
“That fucking cocksucker. He used the Heretic’s Fork.”
