A noise sounded inside the tent. A gentle thud followed by a female moan.
Nila!
I couldn’t wait any longer.
Surprise would be on my side, but I hoped righteousness and fate would be, too.
Ducking beneath the entrance canopy, I charged inside.
My heart stopped.
My mouth fell open.
It couldn’t be.
“Nila…”
Her head shot up. She looked as wild as the animals of this country. She crouched beside my brother, her hands covered in blood, her hoodie hanging off one shoulder, and her legs bare and exposed. Bruises marred her porcelain skin, scratches and blemishes hinting at a fight I was too late to stop.
She jerked to the side, wielding a long red weapon. “Don’t—” Her eyes focused, then love poured from her. “Jethro? It can’t…it can’t be true.”
I staggered toward her, glancing between my half-naked woman and my dead brother. His cock was still hard on his belly. My skin crawled even as my heart stopped beating. “How…how did this happen?”
Her skin was white as milk, her frame shaking with adrenaline. My eyes drifted to her naked pussy and rage unfurled inside me.
“Did he rape you?” My hands curled as I stood over my brother’s corpse. “Did that motherfucker touch you?”
She shook her head, throwing down her weapon and wiping bloody hands on her hoodie. Her eyes flashed, hiding the truth she didn’t want me to see. “No.” Standing, she huddled into me.
My arms automatically wrapped around her, protecting her, even though I begged her to be honest with me.
He’d touched her.
That motherfucking animal touched what wasn’t his.
My embrace became shackles as I dropped my head in despair. Inhaling the softness of her scent and sharpness of spilled blood, I trembled with rage.
Nila let me hold her, her arms returning the furious hug.
I’m sorry.
So fucking sorry.
Her emotions collided with pride and purgatory. She’d killed him and hadn’t processed what his death would mean.
I hugged her harder.
I’m here.
Her voice whispered into my shirt. “He didn’t rape me, Jethro. I swear. I’m sorry…sorry…so sorry.”
Liar.
I understood why she’d lied. Even now, even with death on her hands and fear in her heart, she still tried to save me.
I was the one who’d let her down.
I was the one who made her return to the Hall.
This was my fault. “I did this.”
Her quaking arms wrapped tighter, hurting my unhealed side. “No. Don’t blame—”
“If I don’t blame myself, who can I?” I pressed my face into her throat, the short ends of her hair tickling my cheeks. “I sent you back. I fucking sent you back to be raped and—”
She struggled in my arms. “He didn’t—”
I pulled back, anger cresting. “Don’t lie to me! You can’t lie to me, remember?”
Her lips pursed; she battled between looking at the floor for privacy and fighting me like she’d fought my brother. “Don’t. Don’t get mad. I’m only trying to save—”
I bared my teeth. “Save me? That’s my fucking job, Nila. Not yours. Don’t you get it? I should’ve been the one to protect you. Not the other way around.”
She didn’t reply, her eyes burning black holes into my soul. There was no judgement in her gaze, only forgiveness for making her leave when she’d begged me to reconsider.
“Fuck.” My back rolled, and I grabbed her close again. “I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry.”
Her arms twined around me, her love giving me somewhere to hide from my own fucked-up emotions. “I know. It’s okay.”
It wasn’t okay. None of this was okay. But I wouldn’t press it further. Not here. Not now.
Whatever had happened before my arrival spilled out of her, lapping around our feet.
Her fingers dug into my spine, reliving what she’d done. “I wanted to kill him. But now…now, maybe…I didn’t. God, I killed him, Kite. I—I took a life.” She hugged me impossibly harder as she lost herself to tangled thoughts. An odd overtone layered her emotions the longer I held her. The sensation of need and desire so strong it superseded her misery at killing.
I winced at her strength but didn’t care about the pain. All I cared about was her. About taking her far away from here and protecting her like I should’ve done from the start.
I crushed her in my embrace, holding her so fucking close. “It’s over now. Whatever happened, it’s over.” I kissed the top of her head, her brow, her eyes. “Are you okay? Don’t lie to me. I need to know you aren’t hurting.” My eyes trailed over her injuries. Daniel had done more than touch her, he’d hit her, possibly kicked her.
Her hair stuck up in places, and her cheek flamed red from a slap. She’d been to hell and back, but she’d left my brother in damnation.
I’m so fucking proud of her.
She nodded, breathless and broken. Tears washed down her face. I’d never seen her so primitive, focused only on survival and death. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I am. Truly. I’ll be okay.” The same shadow of lust tainted her voice. I could understand sudden joy at winning over an enemy, but lust?
Taking a few steps back, I pulled her away from Daniel. He lay on his back, blood clotting on his side, a blue tinge already creeping over his lips.