I killed the engine.
Chapter Fifteen
Nila
I WOKE TO a dangerous darkness.
My heart rate exploded the moment my eyes tore open.
He’s here.
I knew it as surely as I knew my name.
He’s in my room.
I couldn’t see him.
I couldn’t smell him.
But Isensedhim.
Coldness and anger and bite.
“Jethro—?”
I blinked, peering into dark corners.
He’s come for me.
I knew it stronger than anything.
It’s not over.
But this time...I had a plan. I wasn’t the victim. I wasn’t some stupid girl who’d been sheltered by her family. I’d stared death in the face—I’d been in its clutches—and I knew how to survive.
“Hello, Ms. Weaver.”
His silky, icy voice whispered beneath my sheets, hardening my nipples to rocks. My core clenched, feeding off his power, getting wet on the sheer deliciousness of having him near.
Oh, God.
After so much time apart, he was visceral, mystical,mythicalin his power over me.
He had a magic—a spell that softened me, even while fear percolated in my blood. I knew he wasn’t safe, knew that I ought to scream and stab him, rather than grow wet and want him.
But I’d made a pact.I will be the last Weaver.
I had the strength to stand up to Jethro and his family. He was mine. I just had to make him accept it.
“I told you I would come for you.”
The shadows twisted, revealing him as he stepped from the pitch black, moving closer toward my bed. He was dressed in leather and denim; an outfit I’d seen Cut and Daniel wear but never Jethro. He was no longer an aristocrat but a biker. The embroidery on his jacket glinted, and his large boots werewhisper-quiet on the carpet. He looked like the devil—a deliciously dark sinner who’d come to ravage and possess me.
Another ripple of desire shot through my belly.
The closer he came, the more the past month faded. The lostness, the incessant vertigo, the lack of conviction I’d suffered ever since leaving justdisappeared.
It was as if I’d never left Hawksridge. I couldn’t imagine why I would.
