“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?”
Her face tightened. “Forget it.”
I went to argue, but she arched her chin, dragging my eyes down her throat to the small stain on her nightgown. A few crimson droplets soaked through the white cotton. “What the hell is that?” I shot upright. My own pain couldn’t stop myself from feeling hers. I let my condition strengthen, searching for her secrets, trying to learn how she’d become injured.
I know how.
My fists clenched.
Nila immediately placed a hand over the cut on her breastbone. “It’s nothing.”
“Like fuck, it’s nothing.” Knocking her hand away, I glowered. “Who did that to you?” Cold rage settled over my soul. Her tension and secrets waked around me. “Who did it, Nila? Answer me.”
Her face contorted; she looked away. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter. You saw my hair…this was nothing compared to that.”
Catching her chin, I brought her eyes to mine. “It fucking matters to me. I need to know.” All I wanted to do was storm into Hawksridge and repeatedly stab my father in the motherfucking heart. I wanted him to feel the pain of dying. I wanted him to suffer forever. “Cut?”
She squeezed her eyes. More emotion washed from her—fear, sickness, weakness, guilt. What the fuck did she have to be guilty about?
Glancing at the two deep cuts marring her perfection, I knew Jasmine was right. The marks could’ve only been caused by one apparatus.
“That fucking cocksucker. He used the Heretic’s Fork.”
She flinched. “How did you—”
“What else have they done to you, Nila? Your hair, your skin.” I rubbed my face, unable to shed the self-loathing for leaving her in the hands of my father and brother. “You should’ve texted me, told me what they were doing.”
She sat up. “How did you guess about the Heretic’s Fork?”
I scowled. “At least one person tells me the truth rather than trying to hide it to make me feel better.”
She looked away, anger lighting her eyes. “Jasmine.”
“Yes, Jasmine.” Grabbing her wrist, I forced her to look at me. “The sister who I tasked to keep you safe. The woman you were supposed to trust and tell if you needed help or protection.” I wanted to shake her. “Yet you didn’t. You endured and lied to me that everything was fine—”
She snatched her hand out of my grip. “What was I supposed to do, Kite? I thought you were dead. I became someone I didn’t recognise. And then I heard you were alive and I made a promise to stay that way so we could end this together.”
Her eyes lowered, cutting me off. “Besides, I’ve lived through worse. I just had a weak moment before coming here tonight, that’s all.”
“That isn’t all and you know it.” I swallowed hard as her emotions shouted the obvious while her mouth refused to speak. “You’re on the edge, Nila. I sense it.” Grabbing her shoulders, I shook her. “Goddammit, you’re stronger than they are. Don’t let them win. Promise me.”
She’d lived through worse at my hands.
The ducking stool. The whipping.