Turning to face him again, the golden-light from the sun cast him with ghostly silhouette, blurring his outline, creating more than just a man. He looked as if he had one foot in this world and one in hell. A fallen angel who still burned with fire—yet it wasn’t purity he burned with but hate.
Jethro raised an eyebrow. “What’s it going to be?”
“I don’t know what you’re offering.”
“Yes you do.”
I did. I do.
Taking a small step toward me, he said, “You want to break the contract? You want to keep your brother and father safe? Fine. I’m giving you a one-time deal. Run. If you make it to the boundary, you’re free. Your family will never be hunted by the Hawks again. You make it, and this is all over. Every last debt and ounce of history—disappears.” His voice licked through the sunshine.
A small sparkle from my earlier orgasm rippled between my legs. “And if I don’t?”
Jethro frowned. “Pardon?”
“If I don’t run…what happens then?”
“You wouldn’t run? After I just offered you what you’ve wanted all along?”
I crossed my wrists over the junction of my thighs, hiding my pussy. “I didn’t say I wanted the chance to run naked through a thousand hectares. I said I wanted this to be over.”
Jethro smirked. “It’s not over until it’s over.” His eyes fell to my collar, glinting with darkness. “And we both know how it will be over.”
Moving closer, he said quietly, “There is no other option here, Ms. Weaver. I’m not giving you the choice to run. I’m telling you to run. You wanted it. You got it. One chance to save your family as well as your own life. One chance. You do not want to fuck it up by testing my patience.”
My mind stumbled with everything that’d happened. There was no denying chemistry flew between us—but Jethro didn’t respond. He was only interested in the chase. The hunt. The sport.
He stood so close, every time he breathed, his chest almost touched my naked nipples. He didn’t seem to care I was naked or offer clothing for this one and only chance I had at freedom. He would make me run unprotected through a forest full of brambles, predators, and trip-worthy roots.
His arm raised and I clamped every muscle from cringing as he cupped my cheek. His heady scent of woods and leather settled over me. Tracing the pad of his thumb over my cheekbone, he bowed his head. “Run, Ms. Weaver. Run. But one thing you should know before you go.”
Do not play his games. Do not rise to the bait.
My lips stayed pinched together. I stiffened in his hold.
His mouth tickled the soft skin below my ear. “While you’re running, I’ll be hunting. You not only have to get to the boundary but you have to do it before I catch you.”
The tingle and horrible promise of hope evaporated. Cruel. Vicious. Evil.
I’m to be hunted.
There wouldn’t be freedom. There would only be blood. Just like he said in the dining room.
Energy left my limbs. Who was I kidding? I hadn’t eaten since I was stolen. I’d barely had a decent sleep. I existed like a junkie on adrenaline and fear. It was no combination for a long distance run through thickets and bush.
Jethro pulled away, dropping his hands. He smiled. “Your head start begins now, Ms. Weaver. I’d leave if I were you.”
Now?
I backpeddled, heart bursting with terror. “How—how long do I have?”
Jethro carefully raised his cuff, looking sedately at the diamond and black watch on his wrist. “I’m a seasoned hunter. I have no doubt I’ll find you. And when I do…what those men did to you will be nothing.” Cocking his head, he said, “I think forty-five minutes is rather sporting, don’t you?”
My mind was no longer there. It was leaping and flying over leaves and dodging ancient trunks. Run. Go. Run.
“Make it and you’re no longer mine….”
Freedom taunted me, making me believe I had a chance. A slim, barely non-existent chance—but still a chance. The muscles in my legs reacted, already poised to take off. I had to trust my body. It knew how to flee.
I could make it. If I did, I would no longer be his pet to torture. But if I didn’t….
Don’t ask. Don’t ask.
“And if I don’t?”
Jethro lowered his head, glaring at me beneath his brow. His eyes were tight and dark, glinting with excitement at the upcoming hunt. “Don’t and the debt I’ll make you repay will make you wish you had made it to the boundary.” He stepped from the sun’s glare, his teeth sparkling like diamonds. “Now…run.”
…
…
I ran.
“You say I’ll never own you. If I win—you willingly give me that right. You sign not only the debt agreement, but another—one that makes me your master until your last breath is taken. You do that, and I’ll give you this.”
Nila Weaver’s family is indebted. Stolen, taken, and bound not by monsters but by an agreement written over six hundred years ago, she has no way out.
She belongs to Jethro as much as she denies it.
Jethro Hawk’s patience is running out. His inheritance gift tests, challenges, and surprises him—and not in good ways. He hasn’t leashed her but he thinks he might’ve found a way to bind her forever.
Debts are mounting. Payment waiting.
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