He huddled me close, pressing a kiss against my forehead. “His nickname is Kite...but I think—I think you’ve known that all along.”

I wanted to cry, but no tears came.

I wanted to rage, but no sound remained.

Him.

He’d not only stolen my body but my mind and fantasies, too.

He’d infiltrated me when I still believed in princes and fairy tales. He’d corrupted me before he’d come to steal me.

Kite.

Jethro.

Kite is Jethro.

A wail clawed up my throat.

Not only had I given my body to my mortal enemy, but I’d unlocked my heart for him, too.

He’d gotten under my skin. He’d heard my innermost desires.

He was playing me like a master of duplicity.

My ridiculous game at making him fall in love with me pulverised.

I had no chance at winning.

Not when faced with the proficient firstborn Hawk.

My salvation was now my damnation.

Jethro is Kite…

…

And he’d successfully trapped me in an aviary of deceit.