And Daniel.
He took after the fucking psychopath who’d been our uncle until my father killed him for almost exposing us all those years ago.
Not for the first time, I wondered if my entire family tree was bat-shit crazy.
In the end, none of it mattered. Not heritage, or destinies, or debts.
The moment Nila came on my tongue, she owed me. Not my family. Me.
The least she could do was reciprocate.
Shaking my head, I gathered up a saddlebag and stuffed everything I would need inside. With each item I picked up, my heart thawed then refroze. A blanket of snow grew thicker with every heartbeat. As ice glittered and crept over my soul, the silence from my colliding thoughts deepened until all weakness, ideas of running, and traitorous concepts of betraying my family disappeared.
I sighed in relief as I slipped back into my icicle-barred cage.
You’re tired, overworked, and dealing with a runaway. Keep your head in the game.
I knew what would happen if I lost control. I could not let that happen.
I checked my watch.
Twenty minutes.
Long enough. To her it would feel as if she’d run for miles. She would never know the difference.
Turning to go, I brushed past the shelf where my extra whips and spurs were stored. I grabbed one, sticking a whip through my belt.
It would come in handy if she disobeyed.
Taking a pair of sunglasses, I quickly traded my dress shoes for knee-high riding boots, and checked inventory. Pity I didn’t have time to change. Jeans were a bitch to ride in—terrible chafing on long excursions.
But this isn’t going to be a long ride.
A smile stretched my lips. No, it wasn’t going to be long. But it will be fun. And fun wasn’t something I got to indulge in very often.
Exiting the gloomy tack room, I squinted in the bright sunlight and slipped the silver-tinted aviators over my eyes. Wings stood obediently by his hobbling post, his equine coat gleaming like the rare black diamonds we mined.
The foxhounds barked and threaded around each other like an organism, never taking their eyes off me as I gathered my reins and placed a foot into the stirrup. Swinging my leg over the massive animal, the rush of being on something so powerful whipped through my bones.
Wings was eighteen hands of pure fucking muscle. He was the fastest horse the Hawks’ owned, excluding my father’s race horse, Black Plague, and he hadn’t been hunting in days.
He pranced in place, his large lungs huffing with anticipation.
The energy vibrating from his bulk infected me, reminding me who I was and the life of privilege I lived.
Twisting his head toward the open grounds of Hawksridge Hall, I dug my spurs into Wings’ side.
An insane surge of power detonated through the animal’s muscles. Wings went from stationary to flying, his hooves clattering with speed. With a sharp whistle, I summoned my canine companions.
The sharp scent of dug-up turf hit my nostrils as we tore across the grass.
I’m coming for you, Nila Weaver.
I’m coming.
Over the roar of galloping thunder, I commanded, “Chase her.”
MY LUNGS BURNED.