Gathering her close, the sweet smell of clean hay threaded around us. “I still am dead according to my father. Kes, too.”
My forehead furrowed thinking of my brother. He has to wake up. Being away from the hospital went against my desire to watch over him, but I had to trust that Doctor Louille knew what he was doing. That eventually, once Cut was dead and things had been dealt with, Kes would wake up and I could rib him for sleeping through all the hard work.
Wake up, brother. Don’t leave me when we’re so close.
“How is he?”
I glanced at Nila. The simplistic beauty of her onyx eyes and sexy lips twitched my cock again. “He’s still alive.” My voice hung in the stagnant quiet. No horses were hobbled tonight—the dogs slept across the yard, and the witching hour gave us our own seclusion from reality, hiding us from nightmares.
Nila plucked at the plaid blanket that I’d placed over the hay bale. “Will he remain that way?”
My heart clenched. I hope so. “He will if he knows what’s good for him.”
She smiled but didn’t laugh, too full of melancholy to lighten the mood. There was no lightening the mood—not when a brother and friend was dying.
Changing the subject, I looped my fingers with hers. “Can I ask you something?”
She nodded slowly. “Of course.”
“Can you take off the hood? I want to see you. You’re in too much shadow.”
Instantly, her emotions scrambled. Fear drenched, followed by despair. Sitting up, she shook her head. “I’d prefer to keep it on. I’m cold.” To add value to her lie, she gathered her coat tightly and hugged herself.
I soared upright. “Bullshit. I know when you’re lying. Just like I knew you were lying in most of the texts you sent.”
Her shoulders hunched. Her hands went to either side of her hood, keeping it tight around her face.
Moving in front of her, I tugged on the black material. “Nila…take off the hood.”
“No.”
“Nila…” My voice dropped to a growl. “What are you hiding from me?”
Tears glassed her eyes.
My heart splintered. “Nila, please. I can’t stand it when you don’t tell me the truth.” My hands pulled again, fighting against her hold.
A single tear slipped down her face. “Please…don’t make me.”
My heart stopped beating.
“What happened to you? When I first saw you, you were almost dead inside. I feel you coming back to life, but something’s changed.” My voice turned heavy. “Please, Nila. Let me fix this. Whatever happened; let me try to help.”
More tears ran silently down her face. She looked away. “I—I was weak. I gave in. I didn’t think I had anything left inside me.” Her breath caught. “But then I saw you, and I remembered why I was fighting. You gave me purpose again. You reminded me that I’m still cared for and it’s my duty. Not to stay alive for myself, but for you. You’ve already helped, more than you know.”
“Fuck…Nila…” My chest seized as her sadness crested over me. “What can I do to make this right?”
She smiled weakly. “You’ve already done it. I’m piecing myself back together. I’m better now. I’ve remembered who I am.” Her fingers tightened. “Just…please, don’t ask me to take off the hood.”
I couldn’t stand it. My temper thickened. “Take it off. I have to know.”
She shook her head.
“Don’t make me tear it off you. You have to show me. We’re in this together, remember? That means sharing our pain and telling the truth.”
Her shoulders hunched. She hesitated for too long. Finally, her head bowed. “Please…please don’t find me ugly.”
“What?” My air exploded. “Why would you ever ask such a thing?”
Sucking in a shaky breath, she let go of the hood.
My condition soaked up her thoughts—despair, pain, confliction, anger. But most of all, paralyzing hopelessness. My soul pulverised as I slowly slipped off the shadowy material and saw what she’d tried to hide.
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t think.
All I could do was stare and fill with such fury, such motherfucking hate, that tears sprang to my eyes.
She couldn’t look at me, her shoulders hunched dejectedly. “I—I—” She gave up, hiding her face in her hands and letting go of her sadness.
Her stunning hair had been replaced with multiple different lengths and shapes. The bedraggled strands cascaded over her hands.
They would pay. They will fucking pay for this.
Trembling with rage, I gathered her to me, crushing her in my arms. “Those fucking bastards.”
She turned in my embrace, wrapping her arms around me, crying silently into my neck. I stroked her back, her neck, the scruffy locks of hair. It felt so different, so strange.
That was what was so wrong. Why she felt so peculiar.
Her courage had been stripped, just like her beautiful hair.
I have to fix this.
I had no idea how, but I couldn’t let her suffer.
Letting her go, I stalked to the end of the stable and grabbed a pair of scissors from the tack room. Stalking back, I sat behind her on the hay bale and without a word, brushed out the tatty strands with my fingers and kissed her neck.
With silence heavy between us, I snipped the mismatched ends.
I poured my love and commitment into her with every cut, sacrificing myself for every strand I snipped.
My heart raced as her hair fell to the hay, entwining gold with black. She shivered and hiccupped with teary breaths, but she didn’t stop me. If anything, her shoulders relaxed and she let me fix the agony my family had caused.
I took my time.
I stroked her like I would any broken filly, reminding her that I cared and adored and would never hurt her. The soft thickness of her hair slipped through my fingers, slicing into uniformity the more I tended.
Not only did I fix her hair, but I fixed her soul, too. I sensed her reforming, gluing her scattered pieces, slipping back into the Nila I knew and worshipped.
I fell in love with her even more at the strength it took to come back from the brink of losing herself.
And she did it for me.
Under my touch, she came alive.
Under my willpower, she breathed freely and with a smidgen of happiness.
It didn’t take long, working my way around her jaw, I combed the ebony strands. With a final snip, I sat back, drinking her in, reacquainting myself with this new woman who held my heart as surely as the one I’d left behind.
Cupping her face, I brushed aside the jaw-length hair and kissed her softly. “You’re somehow even more beautiful, Needle.”
She gasped.
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?”