Final Debt

The minute Cut looked away, my attention switched to the space around me.

I gasped.

The pristine ballroom had turned into a warzone. Blood spilled and broken men decorated the pretty floor. Men dressed in black and Black Diamond brothers both moaned and held their multiple wounds.

What the hell happened?

Who were these men?

Flaw came forward with Jasmine at his side. He gave me a tight smile as Jethro gripped my upper arms. “Are you okay?”

I flinched, drinking him in.

Was I in shock? A dream?

I couldn’t make sense of how calmly I accepted that I was about to die and now…wasn’t. I’d been granted a second life…and all I could do was nod in a daze and blink in a stupor.

“Fuck, Nila.” Jethro crushed me to him. My broken arm wailed, but I didn’t care at all. All I cared about was him.

I hugged him back, squeezing as hard as I could. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.”

“You saved me.”

“You saved me first.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“It’s over.” He pulled back, kissing my lips with the softest flutter.

“Is it truly?”

Jethro smiled with the wattage of a thousand moons. “It’s done.”

My heart unfurled, and for the first time, I believed that.

The Final Debt would never be paid.

The Hawks had lost.

The Weavers were free.

The Debt Inheritance would never claim another victim.

“NO, FOR THE final time, you’re not coming.” I pushed Nila aside. “You’re not going to be there when I do what needs to be done.”

Her mouth opened to argue, her uninjured arm hugging her broken one. “But—”

“No buts. You’re not coming. No matter what you say. You. Are. Not. Coming.” A sliver of the old me—the arsehole who’d collected her that first night—came back. That shell had long since broken, but it rapidly reformed.

And I let it.

I let it because what I was about to do would test every inch of my condition. It would kill me as much as it would kill Cut because I would feel everything my father would go through. I wouldn’t be able to shut off his emotional screams nor freeze myself from ignoring his thoughts.

I would be with him for every lash.

Nila tried to grab my arm. “Jet—”

Dodging her hold, I pointed a finger in her face. “No, Nila. You’re to stay. Obey for once. Don’t make me ask again.”

“You’re not asking, you’re telling.”

“Goddammit.” I swallowed hard, running a hand through my hair. I hadn’t slept in days, my body hurt all over, and my mind barely functioned from dealing with so much death and agony in the ballroom. Seeing her on her knees with the hood on her face and guillotine above her head—it’d fucking crippled me.

I’d hurt so many people for her. I wore their souls like badges of worthless honour. And yet, she still argued.

I can’t do this.

You have to.

I couldn’t falter now. Not when the end was so close.

All I wanted to do was drag Nila to her quarters, tend to her arm, and fall asleep. I wanted today to be over so tomorrow could banish the past.

But I couldn’t.

I had things to do, and I would not—no matter how much she fucking argued—let Nila be a part of them.

I looked at my sister as she wheeled closer. My eyes shot two messages: Help and don’t argue. My voice sounded like I’d been smoking for decades. “Take Nila to her quarters.”

Jasmine nodded slightly, understanding better than anyone what I was about to do and why I had to do it. Her fingers slinked around Nila’s unbroken wrist.

Nila jerked, trying to free herself. “What? No way.” Managing to shake Jasmine off, she planted one hand on her hip; the other she let hover by her waist, protected by her body.

Her gaze darted between Cut and me. “He’s not worth it. Can’t you see that? He isn’t worth what you’re about to—”

I grabbed her cheeks, rubbing my thumbs over her face. “Nila…shush. I need you to let me do this.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. The diamond collar he’d almost extracted glittered in the false light of the chandeliers.

I forced myself to hide my nerves, soothing her with whispered confidence. “Don’t ask me to stop. It’s what I need to do to fix my family and yours—our very history.”

Tears trickled over my thumbs as she fought my decision. “But—”

“There are no buts, Needle.” Looking at Cut, I hardened my heart toward him. He’d done the right thing in the end. He’d let her go. Nothing had stopped him from killing Nila in front of me. Only his decency and lingering affection for Emma.

When Nila had forgiven him, I thought for sure he would pull the lever. He’d never been good at accepting charity.

But for once, he went against the actions of the man who’d raised me and became a hero. He deserved a fragment of respect for that gallant move.

But he also deserved to pay a very painful toll for every other sin he’d committed.

That was his fate.

And it was my fate to deliver it.

Nila pressed her cheek into my palm, her skin warm beneath my touch. “Kite…I—”

I understood her knotted thoughts and scrambled conclusions. “I know.” My voice was a breath as I kissed her. “I understand your fear, but you have to trust me.”