All I achieved was more pain and tiredness. Despite my bitterness and hatred, I’d become helpless. All I could do was sit there like a fucking arsehole while my father tortured Nila with anticipation.

The Fourth Debt.

Originally, the debt ensured ultimate pain and a quick delivery to the Final Debt. Not many would’ve survived for long—especially a few centuries ago when anaesthetic and disinfectant weren’t used. The Fourth Debt was the last to be claimed and the most barbaric.

Missing body parts.

I shuddered, breathing hard through my nose. My innards crawled with what would happen, what Nila would endure, what I would witness.

I have to find a way to stop it.

Thankfully, Nila wouldn’t be subjected to Cut’s surgery skills. Not in this day and age. The debt had evolved a little since then. But it would still be painful. It would still be brutal and cruel.

I twisted in the ropes, wishing for just a small loosening that I could use. But the twine only gathered tighter, rocking the chair legs against the floor as I writhed.

Cut glanced at me, his eyes narrowing. “I’d save your strength, Jethro. You have a new task, remember?”

I threw every inch of hate into my gaze. If only looks could kill. I would’ve ripped his motherfucking head off with one glance.

“Your fate is no longer death.” Cut came toward me, calm and collected. He acted as if this was a business meeting discussing new terms of the estate. “Your destiny is to stay alive, missing her when she’s gone. Forever alone with memories of her death.”

Nila swallowed a cry, her eyes darting to the exit. “That doesn’t have to be the case. He’s your son. I’m in love with him. Let us go and be a father rather than tormentor.” She could run, but her hands remained tied—without her fingers to open doors and arms to defend, she was as trapped as I was.

Cut ducked to my eye level. He hid so much of himself but throughout my childhood, I’d seen parts of him in direct contradiction to the man before me now. Was there any goodness left inside, or was he nothing but a black shadow, a grim reaper of Weaver souls?

Don’t hurt her!

Don’t do this.

He didn’t need words to understand what I begged. If the ropes didn’t lash me to the chair, I’d fall to my knees and plead. I’d give him anything—my life, my future—anything to save Nila from what he would do.

With a smile, he patted me on the head. “Keep your eyes open. Nila agreed to do a certain something for me back at Hawksridge. It’s time to see if she’ll obey.” Leaning closer, he whispered so Nila wouldn’t hear. “If she does it, it will rip out your fucking heart but she’ll remain intact. If she doesn’t, she’ll be loyal to you but will pay the price with pain.”

Taking a step back, he grinned. “Let’s see what she chooses, shall we?”

I looked directly at Nila. How could I tell her to behave and do whatever Cut asked? How could I tell her to choose between two horrendous things?

Her eyes widened, confusion settling on her face from my scattered questions.

Trying to calm down, I did my best to silently share a message. Do what he asks.

She flinched. Never.

Please.

Don’t ask me to do that.

Her emotions waked around the space, tainting the walls and air. I couldn’t turn my condition off, and I wouldn’t survive feeling Nila’s agony.

My muscles bunched as I struggled harder. I choked on saliva, sucking on the disgusting gag.

Cut placed himself in front of Nila with his back facing me.

I couldn't see.

I can’t see.

I strained to the side, seeking a better vantage, but I couldn’t see around Cut’s large frame.

“Now, you’ve heard the history, so let’s focus on the present.” Cut’s voice echoed in the cave. “But first, you owe me from the dice throw in Hawksridge. I won’t tell you what you’ll avoid if you obey, but I will tell you if you don’t, worse pain than you’ve endured so far will be delivered.”

His hand landed on her cheek, brushing aside glossy black hair. I hated his hands on her. I hated I couldn’t see Nila’s reaction or read her face. I hated, hated, hated he’d already stolen so much from her—her long hair, her happiness…her smile.

She looked nothing like the young seamstress from the runway show nor any hint of the sexy, shy nun in her first text messages.

Together, my father and I had stripped her of everything she’d been and created this new creature. A creature being led to the slaughter.

No!

I growled.

Cut looked over his shoulder, rolling his eyes. “A growl? That’s all you have to say?” His gaze landed on the duct tape over my mouth. “Like I said, Jet. Save your energy. All you need to do is watch.”

I’ll fucking watch.

I’ll watch wolves tear apart your carcass.

I’ll watch demons suck your soul into hell.

My breathing crescendoed until my ribs creaked and my head swam.

Nila trembled in place. Her emotions stuttered, fading a little as she locked down internally. I’d felt it happen to many people. When stress overloaded the system, a human’s natural response was to go quiet. To focus. To numb. To delete every distraction.

I’m here with you, Nila.

I’m with you every step.

Nila’s voice was a blade as she replied, “If I refuse, will you hurt Jethro?”

“No, my son isn’t going to participate in this next part.”