First Debt

So much so, my mouth watered at the barest thought of having him inside me again. My core grew wet at the slightest memory of what we’d done. And my heart fluttered at the very idea of conquering him.

Kes cupped my cheek. “Nila…talk to me. You okay? He didn’t hurt you again, did he? I know the First Debt needed to be paid, so I can’t get angry about that payment, but anything else outside what is owed is completely uncalled for.” Temper made his golden eyes boil with fire. “Tell me—what did he do?”

He made me doubt everything.

He owned me the second he kissed me.

He made me grow claws, and I like it.

“Nothing.” I smiled, laughing away the uncomfortableness. It wasn’t right to have Kes care so genuinely about my welfare, not when I didn’t know if it was true or fake.

If it wasn’t real, he was a fabulous actor. My heart raced at the concern in his face, reacting to the compassion in his eyes. It’d been a long time since anyone looked at me with…pity. V and Tex used it more than any other expression, keeping me in my place of uncertain, fumbling daughter.

Now, it just made me angry. So damn angry.

“Hey…” Kes leaned forward, gathering me in a hug. “It’s okay. Whatever he’s done, we can fix it.”

I stiffened in his embrace. Rage bubbled in my blood.

I felt…played.

What is he doing?

The longer he held me, the more my anger boiled, morphing into recklessness. Words tingled my tongue—words I shouldn’t say out loud.

What’s your purpose?

What do you get if I fall for your tricks?

Then guilt smothered my lividity. What if I had it all wrong and Kite/Kes was the one true person in this slithering cesspool of lies?

Perhaps Kes was right, and I should fear Jethro more.

Maybe I was totally wrong about everything.

I slouched in his arms, giving in to the pounding headache and questions.

Once again, Kes had the uncanny ability to make me doubt. Jethro gave me power, but with one hug, Kes took it all away.

I transformed into Nila—dutiful daughter and fumbling twin sister, not the fierce fighter I was when Jethro called me out to fight.

Even fucking each other had been a fight.

A delicious, incredible, insidious fight.

Kes’s arms tensed as he pulled back, holding me firm. My eyes widened as he leaned forward, pressing his dry lips against mine.

Whoa—what?

I locked in place as Kes closed his eyes, licking the seam of my mouth with a questing tongue.

What should I do?

I couldn’t move.

His taste slipped through my lips, bringing the richness of coffee and chocolate. His heat was nice but not consuming. His touch was gentle but not devouring. There were no fireworks, no detonation, just sweet…

I whimpered as his tongue speared into my mouth against my approval.

“Kestrel.”

My heart galloped at the barely muttered word.

We jumped apart.

Guilt saturated my lungs, even though I had nothing to be guilty about. After all, I’d been told I was to be passed around the Hawks.

So why did Jethro stand rigid and furious above us with his hands fisted by his side? “I see you did as I asked and found her but went against my orders and decided to keep her for yourself.”

Oh, shit.

Kes stood up, his body tensing against his brother’s wrath. “I could say the same thing about you the other night.”

My eyes whipped between the two men. How much did Kes know?

Jethro’s eyes flashed, looking over Kes’s shoulder directly into mine.

I saw a question and an answer.

Did you fucking tell him?

Because I didn’t.

My heart bucked against my ribcage. Subtly, I shook my head, giving him my oath that our secret was still safe.

Jethro relaxed just a little. His gaze landed back on his brother—the man he now saw as a rival.

“You can’t monopolise her all the time, Jet.” Kes spoke quietly, keeping his temper in check. I didn’t want to come between family, even if it was the worst family on earth who meant to exterminate mine.

Jethro balled his hands. “You’re forgetting I’m the firstborn son. She’s mine until I tire of her. Only then can she be chased. But until then…” He prowled forward, closing the distance. “She’s fucking off limits. Got it?”

Kes stood taller, his arms locked by his sides. He didn’t look like he would back down. Seconds ticked past, the late summer sky filling with throbbing testosterone.

I waited for the kindling of a fight to erupt, but Kes rolled his shoulders admitting defeat. “Fine. But I’m not waiting until you tire. Fair’s fair, brother. I’ll catch you around.” Prowling away, he turned to wave goodbye. “See you soon, Nila. Remember, my quarters are always open to you.”

The moment he’d disappeared, Jethro rounded on me.

I huddled on my lounger, wishing he wasn’t towering above and blotting out the sunshine like the devil incarnate.

If he wanted to berate me for what happened the other night, then so be it, but I wouldn’t take his temper without drawing blood of my own.

But just like Kes had shed his animosity, Jethro managed the same.

His face settled from rage into normalcy. Bowing, he held out his hand. “Come. There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

My jaw dropped to the floor.

I’d never seen anything so spectacular and perfect and inviting in my entire life.

Is this real? Or am I in a dream?

“What—what is this place?”

Is this what Kestrel meant when he said Jethro had something to show me?

Jethro placed his hand on the small of my back, pushing me forward. The double doors behind him closed. Leaning against them, he never took his eyes from my wonder-filled face.

“It’s yours. Your quarters. Your real quarters.”

“I—I don’t understand.”

He chuckled softly. “The buzzard room was a stupid idea I had to keep you in line. I’ve grown up a little since then.”

I had so much to ask, but all I could do was drift forward in awe.

The room was huge, completely open plan with arched walkways leading to a sitting room, dressing room, bathroom complete with huge shower and claw-foot bathtub, and a bedroom that looked straight from a Persian souk. Acres of divine beaded material hung in heavy swathes from the teak four-poster bed.

But it was the room we stood in that fascinated me.

It was better than any haberdashery I’d been in.

Far exceeding any priceless material market I’d travelled to with my father and brother on expeditions to find exclusive textiles.