Scrambling backward, I put as much distance between Daniel’s next kick and myself as I could.
He placed his hands on his hips, laughing coldly. “Finally decided to play, huh? Took you long enough.”
Coughing, I held my bruised belly and forced myself to stand.
He didn’t approach me, giving me time to regroup. He enjoyed me fighting—he wanted me alive and screaming.
Bastard.
“I’ll kill you,” I whispered, wincing with every breath.
He chuckled, moving toward me. “What did you say?”
Standing taller, I locked eyes with him. My ribs bellowed from his kick, but steel entered my tone. “I said I’ll kill you.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair, smiling. The evil tainting his soul suffocated him—he wasn’t attractive even though outwardly he had good bones and sex appeal. To me, he was a troll, a stinking pile of excrement.
“I’d like to see you try.” He closed the distance between us one boot at a time.
I parried backward. “You won’t see it coming.”
“You won’t be able to get close enough to do it.” He winked smugly. “You’re nothing compared to me.”
I bared my teeth. “It’ll happen when you least expect it.”
“It will never happen.” He flexed his muscles. “I’m invincible.”
“You’re human.”
And that makes you killable.
Every word filled me with power. Conviction and confidence shoved aside my numbness and grief.
Jethro and Kes were dead. But it wasn’t the end for me. I had a purpose. I would complete that purpose.
“Want to know why I came back? Why I didn’t run or hide?” The snow in my veins made its way into my heart. “I came back to ruin you.” Spit pooled in my mouth. If I’d been braver, I would’ve spat it all over his face. “I came back for him, but that’s over now.”
I’ll avenge him, so help me, God. Kestrel, too. And myself. And my brother. And my mother and grandmother and generations of Weaver women.
This was the beginning of the end.
The Debt Inheritance was null and void—Cut had seen to that. It was time to slaughter the Hawks and extinguish a dynasty of torture. Every second made me stronger, filling me with a strange acceptance. Happiness wasn’t my life path—but destruction was. I would be that instrument of destruction.
Daniel shook his head, positively glowing with insanity. “You came back to watch him die? How thoughtful.”
“Wrong. I came back to end this.” Darkness settled around my soul, blotting out any remaining light.
He’s dead.
He’s dead.
But I’ll keep my promise.
I hadn’t been able to save Jethro, but I wouldn’t abandon him. “I made an oath to myself.” I narrowed my eyes, glad that they’d stopped watering—that I could look at him with strength rather than terror. “Want to know what that oath was?”
He stiffened. “Don’t want to know anything about you, Weaver.” He licked his lips. “Scratch that. I want to know three things and three things only.”
I shivered in disgust. “My oath was to destroy you. To end your father. To end you. No matter what you do—”
He shot forward and slapped a hand over my mouth. His palm silenced me, sending my heart chugging with hatred. “Ah, that’s fucking rude. You were meant to ask what three things I want to know, not spout ridiculous bullshit.” His golden eyes—so similar to Jethro’s and Kestrel’s—glittered. “Go on…ask me.”
His fingers pulsed on my cheeks as I shook my head. I couldn’t speak, but it didn’t stop me from screaming with every molecule.
Never!
His temper eddied around us. “Fine. Don’t need you to ask, ‘cause I’ll tell you anyway.” He crowded me, pressing his body against mine. “Three things, bitch. I want to know how your screams will sound in my ears.” His fingers dropped from my mouth, tracing my lips with his salty touch.
“I want to know how your tiny hands will feel fighting me off.” His palm drifted down my throat, over my diamond collar, to my breasts.
I closed my eyes as he kept going, lower and lower and lower.
My teeth clamped on my bottom lip as he cupped my core with rancid fingers. The thin knickers and t-shirt I wore from sharing Jethro’s bed left me vulnerable. “And I want to know how your pussy will taste on my tongue.” Without any warning, he plucked me from the carpet and threw me against a wall.
My shoulder slammed against a portrait of waxy fruit. I slithered to my knees. Pain flared, fear swelled, and vertigo did its best to steal me away.
He’s dead.
He’s dead.
Don’t you dare give in.
“I’ll show you that I get what I want. I’ll teach you to fucking respect me.” He towered over me, fists clenched. “Isn’t that what you think of me? That I’m some spoiled brat who was the ‘mistake’? That I was never good enough for this family or to have my own Weaver to torment?” His voice deepened with rage. “Saw the tampered video, Nila.”
I struggled to stand, never taking my eyes off his boots.
He stood poised, ready to kick. “Always knew Kes was a pillock, but I never took him for a fucking dreamer. Anyone could tell that wasn’t you with Cut. And it was a fucking mockery to believe I’d buy the badly spliced images of me with some whore. He couldn’t even overlay your face onto her body right. Not to mention the fact I remember the night I disfigured that bitch and Jethro tried to save her.”