Daniel hissed in my ear, “Time for some fun, little Weaver.”

My entire body prickled with heaving fury. I didn’t have time for fear anymore—not when the very thought of what would happen threatened to switch me from sane to insane.

Jethro’s nostrils flared, torment and misery quarrelling over his face. “Do you repent? Do you take ownership of your family’s sins and agree to pay the debt?”

I could barely stand up. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even think properly.

“Don’t make him repeat the question, Weaver,” Daniel muttered.

Jethro crossed his arms, looking as if he’d throw up any moment. “Say it, Nila.” His voice was so quiet but throbbed with such sorrow.

How was I supposed to speak when I was gagged?

Cut smiled. “The sooner you agree, the sooner it’s all over.” Standing, he came toward me. I’d never been so uncomfortable, sandwiched between Daniel and Cut, knowing that this time they were allowed to touch me. That Jethro couldn’t stop them from sharing because he was debt-bound to hand me over on a silver platter.

Cut stroked my cheek, his fingertips branding my skin. “Three places to violate you, my dear. And three men. We’ll draw straws to see who will claim your pussy, mouth, and arse.”

Vertigo plunged me into a rollercoaster roll, sending me stumbling into Cut.

He chuckled, holding me against his chest. “I never knew you were so eager.”

The moment I could see without the whitewash of nausea, I growled and fought to get free.

Cut let me go, smiling as I backed away only to end up in Daniel’s arms.

This can’t be happening!

A sob escaped through my gag. My heart was supersonic—a dying piece of muscle about to combust at any moment.

“Fuck, Nila. Agree to the damn debt!” Jethro suddenly exploded.

The room froze. More tears torrented. More pain imaginable cleaved me in two.

I narrowed my eyes, funnelling my disgust fully into his gaze. You want me raped by your fucking family? Fine.

Raising my chin, I hoped he saw just how badly he’d screwed up. I was prepared to forgive him everything. His ice. His lies. His closed off arctic behaviour.

Everything.

But not this.

Nothing could absolve this.

Ever.

You understand, Jethro Hawk? The love in my heart for you. It dies. Right now.

It’s over!

Jethro flinched, bumping into Kestrel.

Kes clutched his brother’s hand, squeezing it hard. Jethro wiped a hand over his mouth as if he could prevent any more monstrous things from escaping.

Kes’s voice was strained and sharp. “Do you consent, Nila Weaver? Answer the question.”

I never looked away from Jethro. I was the queen on this carpet chessboard. I was the most powerful player in the entire long-winded game, yet my king had just ended the game with one colossal mistake.

Tearing myself from Daniel’s arms, I moved forward to stand in the centre of Hawks. With my shoulders proud and body vibrating, I nodded.

One single nod.

Yes.

Yes, I’ll pay your sick and twisted debt, but I will never be the same. I will never be so soft and stupid. I will never let love convince me of goodness in others. I will be hatred personified, and I will fucking slaughter every single one of you when you’re done.

“That’s it, then.” Jethro swayed to the poker table. He moved like a soldier who’d been shot in battle—a warrior about to die. Snatching the lid off the cognac bottle, he angled the liquor and drank. His powerful throat contracted, guzzling fast, before he tore it away, slammed it down, and stormed to the exit.

In a moment, he was gone.

What?!

He wasn’t even going to be there to watch? To have his heart torn out witnessing the awfulness he’d befallen?

My tears dried up in complete shock.

I shut down.

Everything inside turned to ruins.

Kestrel sighed heavily. Silently, he retrieved the bottle Jethro had slammed on the table and poured three fingers into fresh glasses.

Daniel and Cut drifted forward as Kes held out each goblet. The men ignored me—knowing I would wait. That I couldn’t run. That I had nothing left.

With a grim smile, Kes held up a toast. “To paying debts and being worthy.”

“To debts,” Cut muttered.

“To fucking,” Daniel cackled.

All three clinked and slammed the liquor down. However, Kes was the last to drink. It was only a fraction of a second, but he watched Cut and Daniel finish first before tipping the amber liquid down his throat.

Tossing their empties on the poker table, the men once again pinned their attention on me.

I stiffened, fighting uselessly in my binds.

Kes was the first to move.

He came forward. I moved backward. We danced slowly around the large room.

He didn’t say a thing.

He didn’t have to.

Jethro wasn’t in control of this debt. He wasn’t even here.

This was Kestrel’s time to shine.

“Before you came here tonight, Nila, we had a bet. The opening round of poker was to secure the right for first choice.”

I bumped into a padded chair, changing directory to inch around the pool table.

Kes murmured, “Any idea who won that round?”

My heart thundered. I shook my head.

Something flashed in Kes’s eyes—too fast and swift to be understood. “It was me. I won. I get to choose.”

Charging forward, he caught me effortlessly and wrapped his bulky arms around me. In his embrace, I didn’t find friendship or liberation. I found a prison cell where the man who’d laughed and chased me over the paddocks on horseback became my rapist.