If I could move, I’d cuddle him back but I had nothing left. I was drained beyond all comprehension.

“Thank you.” Jethro kissed my hair. “Thank you for letting me in.” His arms squeezed tighter, giving me gratitude in both actions and words.

I yawned, snuggling into him.

“Was it hard?” he asked quietly. “Was it painful to look inside yourself?”

I shook my head, unable to keep my eyes from closing. “No. To be honest, it was scarily easy.”

“It’s not hard to let go when you trust the person you’re with.”

I nodded. “You made it right, Jethro. You made it perfect.”

A few minutes passed. Sleep settled heavier on the outskirts of my thoughts.

Jethro sighed. “I want to do more with you. Fall deeper into you. Would you let me do that?”

The moment hovered. I could pretend to be asleep. I didn’t have to answer. The thought of stripping myself even further scared but also excited.

“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, I would.” My voice was soft and full of love.

He hugged me hard. “I love you, Nila.” Pressing a kiss on my cheek, he said, “I’ve only just started. I have so many ways to show you the depth of my feelings.”

My eyes flared. Did he want more today? There was no way I had the stamina or strength. I was utterly spent.

“You can do whatever you want with me. But first, I have to sleep.” With his body heat and legs tangled in mine, I’d never felt so safe.

Jethro chuckled. “I want more—so much more. More than you can possibly imagine. But I’m patient. I’ve waited this long for you. I can wait another hour or two.” Kissing me again, he murmured, “Sleep, Ms. Weaver. Dream of me. And then I’ll steal you away.”

He gathered me closer.

Together, we drifted from this world into dreams.

LIFE WAS PERFECT.

The most perfect it’d ever been.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this happy or this uncaring about my fate.

Nila was mine. I’d found my one true place.

I should’ve known a man like me would never be worthy of such a gift. I should’ve known that death was around the corner. I should’ve seen the devil rubbing his hands together, waiting.

I didn’t deserve peace or togetherness or a future I wanted more than fucking anything.

There was nothing good left for me.

Only death.

No matter that I’d lived my entire life beneath death’s shadow, no matter that I’d expected it around every trial, and feared it every time I closed my eyes to sleep, I still wasn’t prepared for when it finally came for me.

It was quick.

It was painful.

It was over.

I’M SO LUCKY.

I looked over the balcony. Below me, bright lights and camera flashes immortalized my newest collection. The grey dress I’d made before paying the Third Debt caused a standing ovation among critics and fashionistas alike.

“You did so well, wife.”

I swayed into my husband’s arms. Jethro’s hair caught the lights, making him seem like some fantasy knight come to life. We’d eloped two weeks ago. We’d barely left the bedroom since.

My pussy clenched just thinking about what we would do when we returned home after the show.

Something cold and sticky splashed against my silver ball gown. Time turned to slow motion as I looked down in horror.

Blood.

Gallons upon gallons of blood.

It stained my bodice, train, hands…everything.

The audience below no longer watched the show but looked up at us. At me specifically. “What?” I screeched. “What did I ever do to you?”

Then, I heard the most dreadful sound in the world. The symphony of dying. The excruciating noise of ending life.

“Get up, you filthy fucking whore!”

My eyes wrenched open. My heart lurched into my mouth. Warmth and cocooned-safety was traded for biting fingers and hard floor as Cut wrenched me out of bed and threw me across the room.

“Wh—no!” I landed on my wrist, screaming in agony.

“What the—” Jethro's sleepy voice rang out but was sliced short by a punch to his face.

“You motherfucking backstabbing son of a fucking bitch.” Cut rammed his fist into Jethro’s jaw again, drawing blood, crunching cheekbones. “Get up.” He tore off the sheets, jerking him from his bed.

Jethro groaned, falling into a pile of limbs at his father’s feet.

“No, wait!” I crawled forward, flinching at my wrist.

Daniel appeared, blocking me with his hands on his hips. “Ah, ah, ah, little Weaver. You can no longer interfere with family matters.”

Through the barricade of his legs, I watched Cut kick Jethro repeatedly in the stomach, screaming obscenities, puce with fury. “Did I not give you every fucking chance? Did I not respect you and trust in you as my fucking son!” He kicked him again. “Goddammit, you leave me no choice!”

This can’t be real.

It had to be a dream…a nightmare.

Please, don’t let this be real.

Cut turned his back on Jethro, storming toward me with throbbing anger. “And you! You’re done meddling with my fucking family, girl. You’re through. Both of you!”

Grabbing my hair, he jerked me to my feet.

He strength was insane—no residue of the drugs Jethro had used. No hint that he’d been unnaturally asleep for hours. He was a demon.