Nila

LIFE SETTLED INTO a temporary rhythm.

By day, I either sewed or spent it with the Black Diamond brothers learning all there was about carats and mining techniques. I was told where the mines were located. I memorized the wealth extracted from each location and the brand they laser cut onto every stone. By night, I shoved away infrequent vertigo waves and sketched new designs I might never create.

I learned that every few months, one Hawk brother would travel to Brazil or Africa or Thailand to inspect the mines and assess the managers left in charge. They would go with an entourage from their brotherhood, acting as support, discipline, and protection.

I was wrong when I thought the only brothers in the Black Diamonds were the ones who’d licked me at my welcome luncheon. There were factions all around the world—all controlling the empire that belonged to Bryan ‘Cut’ Hawk.

And soon Jethro.

After our night together, things had become strange between us. He avoided me as much as possible. He didn’t come to my quarters. He didn’t seek me out for my morning run. And when we met in the dining room with his family for breakfast, he would find subjects to discuss with his father and be detained far longer than I could wait.

His eyes, once glowing with lust and togetherness, became dead, lifeless. Every few hours, he would swallow a white pill and give me a smile that said a hundred things all at once.

Trust me.

Wait for me.

Don’t hate me.

The Black Diamond brothers continued to be kind and generous. If I came upon them in the library, we’d chat like old friends. If I bumped into one of them in the corridors, we’d discuss the weather and any titbit of interesting information.

I never went to visit Jasmine again, and my brother and father never ceased in their rally to get me to reply. I’d never been around so many people—all impacting my life in some small measure.

Whenever I moved around Hawksridge, I took my dirk—jammed in my waistband or hidden in the garter around my leg. I’d seen Daniel once on my own—it’d been around nine p.m. He’d caught me strolling back to my quarters after visiting the kitchen for some orange juice.

I knew then why Jethro was so livid that I’d hunted the house for his wing. The look in Daniel’s eyes reeked of rape and lawlessness. His hissed promise when the first tally was made came back in full volume. “The moment you’re alone...”

He’d come toward me, a sneer on his lips. I didn’t think, just reacted. I’d thrown my glass at his face, splashing citrus juice all over irreplaceable carpets and tore back to the kitchen.

And there I’d stayed until Flaw returned from a late night delivery and escorted me back to my chambers.

I didn’t tell Jethro what’d happened, but he must’ve seen it on the cameras, because the next day he found me and whispered that from now on his rooms would be locked. That there was no point in going to him because he wouldn’t let me in.

I knew he did it for my protection—to stop me recklessly patrolling the halls—but at the same time, it killed me to think the one chance we could be together had been taken away just like the rest.

The dynamics in Hawksridge Hall had changed. Cut had thawed considerably toward Jethro. I caught them laughing together one afternoon and Cut slapping Jethro on the back the next. The stronger the father and son bond grew, the more Kestrel faded into the background.

Daniel didn’t seem to notice or care about the alliance that’d sprung between firstborn and ruler. He carried on as if life was fine and dandy with no cares apart from which club bunny to screw that night.

Kes, on the other hand, stopped being his jovial self. He stopped smiling at me. Stopped smiling period.

And despite not knowing who he truly was, I missed him.

I missed the ease and togetherness I enjoyed when I’d first arrived. I missed having him as a friend—even if that friendship came with conditions and hidden motives.

One day, as I made my way outside for a run, I saw Kes disappear over the front garden dressed in a tweed jacket and woollen trousers with a shotgun cocked over his arm.

Where is he going?

Jogging down the portico steps, I zipped up my fleece and was glad I’d put on leggings as the wind howled in welcome.

Autumn was losing every day to winter. Summer was long since forgotten, and I craved the sunshine and greenery of the first few months that I’d arrived.

Kes looked up as I traversed the gravel.

His eyebrows rose. “Nila. What are you doing out here?” He peered at the sky. “It might rain...or snow, feels fucking cold enough.” His skin was white, but the tip of his nose was painted red. He’d had a haircut recently and it was trimmed and neat at the side with an unruly mess on top. He looked younger, sadder.

“I’m going for a run. Want to join me?”

I forced away the memory of running with Jethro and ultimately finding my ancestor’s graves. Jethro had wounded me too many times over the past few weeks. I wanted to hate him but couldn’t.

The way he’d begged me to trust him the last time we were together. The way he looked so close to crumbling under the weight he carried.

He had a plan. I had no choice but to trust him.

It took a strong conviction to trust someone who rarely talked to me and went out of his way to come across as a drug-induced robot.

I blew on my frostbitten fingers. My chill was partly due to the freezing cold day, but it was mainly thanks to living in a historic tomb. Hawksridge Hall was decadent and majestic, but it was damn cold when moving around cavernous corridors. Only the rooms were heated, and even then, the ceilings were so high it was never toasty.

“No, I don’t run.” Kes jostled the gun over his arm. “Thought I’d go for a hunt. Shoot a pheasant or two for dinner.”

We fell into step together. I wrapped my arms around myself, retaining the small amount of body heat I had. “I couldn’t think of anything worse—killing something.”

Will Jethro kill someone? Cut, Daniel...me?

Grey clouds and a faint dusting of mist dulled the vibrancy of the estate. It was magical as much as it was depressing.

Kes noticed my shivering. He stopped.

Holding out the gun, he waited until I took it, then shrugged out of his thick tweed.

The weapon was morbidly heavy. I was only too happy to trade it for the soft wool of his blazer. “You don’t have to—”

“I know.” He slung the tweed over my shoulders, encasing me in his masculine scent of musk and heather. “But I want to.”

“I can’t take it.” I tried to slip it off. “I won’t need it when I start running.”

“Fine.” He narrowed his eyes. “Only trying to be kind.” The pain flickering in his gaze made me keep it on and place an icy hand on his forearm.

His head snapped up.

“Kes...are you okay?”

He snorted, shoving aside his melancholy unsuccessfully. “Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

I looked back at the Hall. It sat ominous and frightening, casting shadows over the hibernating gardens. “You miss him, too. Don’t you?”

His nostrils flared. “We shouldn’t talk about it.”

“Why not? You said all secrets were mine to know.” I smiled, despite the awfulness of the circumstances. “I’m not going anywhere, and I have no one to tell. The world believes I’m marrying into your family. My brother’s reputation is ruined, and my father is a ghost of the man he used to be. What would be the harm in trusting me?”

“You have a point.” For a moment, he looked disgusted. With what? What his family had done to mine? Or that I had the audacity to ask him to trust me?

Finally, he sighed. “I wouldn’t say this in front of anyone else, but...” He inched closer, ducking to whisper in my ear, “I’m sorry. For everything that’s happened.”

For the tiniest moment, my heart fluttered. He was so uncomplicated compared to Jethro. He kept things hidden—his true agenda being one—but I felt as if he only had one layer beneath his exterior, not thousands.

I placed my hand over his, squeezing in gratitude. “That means a lot. Thank you.”

The moment stretched on for longer than it should; we both jumped away guiltily.

Clearing his throat, Kes asked, “I’m going to get the foxhounds. Want to come to the stables?”

Huddling deeper into his jacket, I nodded. “Why not? Perhaps it’s not a day for running, after all.”

“Well...if you’re not going for a run, I have a much better idea.”

Holding out his arm, he waited for me to loop mine with his. His smile was still tainted, but life sparked in his eyes. “Let’s go do something fun.”

* * * * *

Fun.

I envisioned a drink in a warm boudoir or hanging out with friends while playing a board game, or even watching a movie with popcorn.

But apparently, that wasn’t what Kes had in mind.

Entering the stables, he placed the shotgun in the tack room and motioned for me to follow. We headed into the long cobblestone-paved building where countless horses rested in cubicles. The floor was scattered with sweet smelling hay and the air temperature was warm and inviting. Scents weaved with the comforting aroma of horse and leather.

My tension dissolved, slipping down my spine and leaving my shoulders free from the choke of worry and deliberation.

Jethro said he would save me.

But Kes saved my mental state by reminding me normalcy still existed. Animals were still there to lick away my sorrows, and the sun still rose on days not so bleak.

I needed reminding of that.

Considering I’d never been around horses growing up, something about them tamed my anxiety, giving me a place to hide and regroup.

Kes smiled, moving between the stalls; horses watched with glossy gazes and pert ears. He stopped halfway down the aisle. A long, grey face and the gentlest black eyes popped over the railing. The horse nuzzled his pockets, nickering softly.

Moth.

I moved faster, still madly in love with the dapple grey that I’d travelled to the polo tournament with.

Kes grinned as Moth switched her attention to me. Her velvet nostrils huffed, seeking oats and other treats as I reached out to stroke her powerful neck. “Hey, girl.”

She pawed the ground, the metal of her shoe clinking against cobbles.

“Wait there.” Kes disappeared to the end of the stables, then came back holding a rosy apple. “Here you go.”

I took it.

Moth followed the fruit with sniper-like attention.

“I just feed it to her?”

Kes nodded. “Put it on your palm and keep your fingers flat. You don’t want her to bite you accidentally.”

Great.

I eyed Moth hesitantly. Her neck strained over the railing, trying to get at the apple. When I didn’t move, Kes chuckled.

“Don’t be afraid.” He stole my hand, bent my fingers till they were flat, then shoved me forward. “Can’t tease the poor girl.”

The second I was within biting distance, Moth pinched the apple from my hand. A loud crunching noise filled the stables. Every other horse pricked its ears, alerted to the sound of treats and the fact that they weren’t getting any.

Apple juice dripped from her lips, plopping onto the dusty floor.

Kes laughed. “She’ll do anything for sweets. She’s a nutcase for molasses.”

I raised my hand, patting between her eyes. Moth nudged closer, demanding more cuddles, telling me exactly how she wanted it.

“She’s lovely,” I said softly, imagining owning such a magnificent animal.

“She is, I agree.” Kes never took his eyes off me. His words hovered between us, not entirely innocent. Something stronger than friendship emitted from him.

I had the insane urge to wrap my arms around Moth and use her as a crutch in this suddenly precarious position.

“Kestrel...”

He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

We both stood awkwardly. I continued to stroke Moth and the yips of foxhounds in the kennel next door reminded me all over again of the first night I’d spent here and the kindness Squirrel had shown by licking my tears.

There was goodness in all of us. Human, equine...canine. We were all capable of good and bad. We were all redeemable—no matter what we did.

Kes rubbed his jaw. “You know...”

I looked up, waiting for him to continue. “Know what?” I prompted.

His gaze narrowed. He suddenly cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Eh, don’t worry about it.”

I frowned, scratching Moth around her ear, straining on tiptoes to reach. “Okay...”

A few seconds ticked past before he exploded. “You know what? Fuck it. It’s his fault he can’t bloody cope. I’m done with how he’s treated me and sick to fucking death of him reneging on everything we agreed.” He punched himself in the chest. “I was there for him from the beginning. I kept his bloody secrets. I deserve to know what the fuck is going on, but he’s cut me out.”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

Kes chuckled darkly. “It means, I’m done. That’s what. I’m sick of waiting for him to crawl back and apologise. I’m also sick of him threatening me to stay away from you—even though I know he’s ignoring you as much as me.”

What on earth happened between Kes and Jethro to warrant their relationship turning so sour?

He dragged a hand through his hair. “Jethro approached me after the polo game last month. He asked if I wanted a new horse.”

I gasped. “Oh, no! You can’t get rid of her.” I leaned into her, pressing my face against her neck. “She’s perfect. Don’t ever say such a thing.”

Kes smiled, patting the mare. “I know. She’s a great girl. She’s only eight years old, so she’s not going to the glue factory anytime soon.”

I grabbed Moth’s ears, squeezing tight. Speaking to the horse, I said, “Pretend you never heard of glue or factory. That will never happen to you. I won’t allow it.”

Even as I said it, I wanted to burst into insane tears. Moth would outlive me by decades. I was the one on the countdown to be put down, not her.

Unless Jethro figures out his plan.

Kes’s finger pressed against the underside of my chin, raising my eyes to his. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, because it just makes him look good all over again, but...he wanted to get me a new horse, so you could have Moth.”

My heart stopped. “Me?”

He nodded. “He was going to give her to you the night after the Second Debt. But of course...” He trailed off, both of us aware what happened the next day.

Kes gritted his jaw. “And if I’m completely honest, I’m glad he didn’t have the chance to give her to you.” A cloud fell over his face, twisting his features with anger. “She’s my horse. I should be the one to give her away if I choose.”

I stroked his arm, hoping to reassure him that no one was taking his horse. And even if Jethro had given me Moth, I couldn’t have taken her because she already belonged to Kes. “Don’t worry, Kestrel. She’s yours. No one—”

“I want you to have her.”

The air solidified.

Moth huffed, nudging me as I stood mute.

I spluttered, “I—I can’t.”

Even as I said it, the thought of owning this incredible beast blistered my heart. To have something of my own, while surrounded by things that could never be—it would be...wonderful.

Kes clamped strong hands on my shoulders, staring deep into my eyes. “She’s yours. She responds to you more than she does with me. You’re meant to have her, Nila.”

Gratefulness and overwhelming amazement filled me. “I—I don’t know what to say.”

Kes smiled. “Say nothing. It’s already done.” Squeezing my shoulders, he stepped back. “You’re the proud new owner of a dapple grey by the name of Warriors Don’t Cry.” Patting Moth on the neck, he grinned. “I’ll find the pedigree papers later, so you can keep them safe, but for now...let’s go for a ride.”

My eyes bugged out of my head. “I’ve never been on a horse before.”

Not counting with Jethro when he carted me back on Wings, of course.

Kes ignored me, heading toward the tack room. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll show you.”

* * * * *

An hour later, I sat atop my first ever horse.

I’m freaking.

I’m terrified.

I’m beyond exhilarated.

I couldn’t remember the last time something affected me so piercingly.

Even Jethro?

Well, apart from him.

It seemed the older I grew and more jaded by life I became, the more I lost the heightened extremes of newness. No longer enjoying the catapulting happiness or devastating lowness. These days my highs and lows were more hills and valleys rather than mountains and chasms.

But looking down and seeing the ground far below, feeling the unyielding metal stirrups beneath my borrowed boots, and the leather reins in my hands, I’d never been more alive. More joyous.

This was Christmas on crack.

This was birthdays all in one.

I own her.

I own this majestic animal.

I couldn’t sit still with excitement. Leaning forward, I patted Moth’s beautiful grey neck. From up here, I had full view between her ears at the rolling fields and sweeping dark forest.

Kes led his mount from the stables and swung his leg over an inky black horse. Its coat gleamed in the autumn gloom, its velveteen nostrils flaring with huge gusts of breath.

Before Kes could get his seat, the horse skittered sideways with a clatter of hooves.

“Whoa, you damn animal.” He jerked the reins, forcing the horse to submit.

“Who’s that?” I asked, clutching my own reins as Moth tossed her head at the fiery beast prancing beside her. Her flanks rippled with indignation.

Kes’s face pinched in concentration. He swatted the horse with his whip as it bucked and nickered. The horse’s ears flattened, eyes rolling in a mixture of hell-bound fury and eagerness.

“This is Black Plague. He’s technically my father’s horse, but he’s in-between purse races right now. He always gets like this if he isn’t trained every day.” He stroked the pitch-black pelt. “Don’t you, boy?”

“Rather you than me.”

“Plague definitely isn’t for beginners.” Raising his eyebrow, Kes pointed at my helmet. “Check that it’s on tight. I’m not a conventional teacher and need to make sure you’re protected.”

I laughed, forcing a finger beneath the strap below my chin, showing him that if it were any tighter, I’d choke. I also waved at the bracing corset he’d made me wear, along with the borrowed jodhpurs and boots. “Completely protected.”

I felt like royalty—an equestrian princess who knew exactly what she was doing.

I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.

For the past hour, Kes had taught me how to clean out Moth's hooves, curry her coat, saddle her, tighten a girth, and slip a bit into her mouth.

So much to do before going for a ride and so much more to do once we returned.

But every single thing I adored.

I didn’t think I’d ever been so happy than standing in the stall listening to Kes's deep voice as he joked and teased and congratulated me when I copied correctly.

He was patient and kind and we got along easily. Being with him made my heart weep for Vaughn. The ease in which we chatted reminded me of the relationship I’d had with my twin.

My heart also cried for another.

A rolling black cloud shaded me whenever I thought of Jethro.

He should’ve been the one teaching me.

He should’ve been the one laughing and joking and kissing me in the hay.

I hadn’t seen Jethro today, and the lovesickness I suffered whenever I thought of him became a constant sabre to my chest.

How could I love someone with so many demons?

How could I love someone who didn’t share those demons with me?

I don’t have a choice.

If I did—I would choose Kestrel. He was kind and sympathetic. He made me feel better about myself, rather than condemned me to fear.

“Who are you, Kestrel?” I asked before I had time to censor myself.

He stilled, his hands tightening around his reins. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you seem to have a gift at hiding whatever you’re thinking—just like your older brother. However, unlike him, you don’t seem afflicted. Jethro responds to you. He obeys you when there’s tension and looks to you for help.” I squinted beneath my helmet. “Why is that?”

Kes lost his smile, filling with seriousness. “Do you know what he is yet?”

His question slapped me.

I know about black diamonds and absorbing. I know about feelings and pain.

“I’m beginning to understand.” Moth shifted below me. “I don’t have a name for his condition, though. Do you?”

“I do, but it’s not my place to name it.” He laughed softly. “Come back to me when you’ve figured it out. When Jethro tells you what he is—I’ll tell you who I am. Fair?”

No, not fair. I doubt he’ll ever tell me.

Tipping his helmet in salute, he added coyly, “However, there really isn’t much to tell about me. I’m an open book.”

Kicking Black Plague, he moved forward. Moth automatically followed. The clip-clop of hooves echoed off the kennel as we left the stables behind.

The rocking of Moth and the sheer power of her muscles sent fear skittering down my spine. What if I had a vertigo attack and fell off? What if I didn’t steer properly and we ran into a tree?

“Uh, Kes...perhaps this isn’t such a good idea.” My legs trembled. “Maybe I should learn to ride on something smaller?”

Kes turned around, planting a hand on Black Plague’s rump. Ignoring my concerns, he said, “Remember how I said I’m not a conventional teacher?”

I nodded slowly, nervousness billowing in my chest. “Yes...”

“Well, here is your crash course in riding. Hold your reins tight but not too tight. Don’t jerk on her mouth. Pretend you have a twenty-pound note between your arse and the saddle and under no circumstances is it to fly free. Keep your heels down and back straight, and if you fall, roll away and don’t hold onto the reins.”

The more he spoke, the more my heart raced.

“Got it?”

Everything he just said went in one ear and out the other. “No. I don’t have it. Not at all.”

Kes threw me an evil grin. “Too bad.” Raising his whip, he kicked Black Plague and shot away as if this was the Championship Derby. “Hold on, Nila!”

I pulled on my reins as Moth bunched and collected beneath me. “No...you are not going to follow him, damn horse. I like my neck being attached to my body.”

Moth tossed her head, snatching the reins from my hands.

“No. Stop!”

A moment later, I went from standstill to full-blown gallop.

I became a blur of grey.

I became the girl from my past who believed in unicorns.

I became...free.