Third Debt (Indebted #4)(63)

I would be thrown in an asylum—one I could never escape.

Needing fresh air, I threw down my pen and crossed my office.

There has to be another way.

“Fuck!” I hissed, stepping onto the Juliette balcony the same way I’d done countless of times before. The cool breeze whistled down my back, and the ache in my chest deepened.

Yet, unlike countless of times before, my heart f*cking shattered into a trillion pieces.

Below me, with her hair streaming behind her and the happiest, slightly terrified smile on her face was Nila.

She was a grey comet. A thundering silver-shooting star.

She couldn’t have been more majestic or sublime.

Moth’s elegant legs chewed up the lawn, heading toward the paddock I’d galloped over many times on my own.

Horse and rider merged in utmost perfection.

Only, she wasn’t alone.

The ring of male laughter came over the breeze as Kestrel shot past her on Black Plague, his hand in the air and a grin plastered to his motherf*cking face.

The picture they presented tore out my heart, turning it to dust.

All this time, I’d worked my ass off to protect Nila, Kes, and Jaz. All this time, I’d distanced myself and done what was required.

And how was I f*cking repaid?

By being forgotten.

Nila hunched further over Moth’s withers, galloping faster. Together, they tore off into the distance, leaving me stricken…hollow.

No amount of pills could stop me feeling the wave of crashing desolation.

The numbing fog couldn’t help me.

This was my breaking point.

My utter grief.

I’d wanted to experience that with her.

I’d wanted to make her smile and laugh and slide inside her in the dark, secretive world of the stables.

I’d wanted to grant her the gift better than any material thing.

But that’d been stolen from me.

By the one man I thought had my back forever.

Betrayer. Stealer. Forsaker.

I turned around and went back into my office.

But I returned empty.

My heart was left tagging along like a kite, its strings tied to Nila as she galloped further away beneath the cloud-filled sky.





IT WAS FINISHED.

The centrepiece of my Rainbow Diamond collection.

I stepped back to inspect the gown, making sure it hung just right.

The mannequin presented the crinoline dress as if I’d stepped through time and created something my great-great-grandmother would wear.

The hoop in the thick petticoats forced the rich grey dress to flare in an elegant bell-like swish. There were no layers or feathers or tulle—not like the corset highlight of my Fire and Coal show in Milan. This was understated and sleek—like a smoky waterfall shimmering with secrets and mystery.

Around the cuffs, I’d sewn cream lace that I’d found in a rusted-shut cupboard in my quarters. The lace held the W sigil. My ancestors must’ve painstakingly created it decades ago; it was fitting to adorn a gown such as this.

The bodice gleamed with panels of midnight silk, creating a prismatic effect. Tiny black beads decorated from décolletage to hem in a glittering asymmetrical pattern, just like the black diamond Jethro had shown me at the warehouse.

There were no rainbows on this dress.

Only darkness.

But it filled me with terrible pride, along with immense sadness. This might be the last headline piece I make before leaving this world.

Instead of becoming more optimistic as my time continued unmolested, I became less and less sure. Jethro couldn’t hide his frustration. Breakfast, he barely talked. Dinner, he barely ate. He watched Cut with a mixture of obedience and feral rage. But beneath it all was helplessness.

I’d bumped into Bonnie twice since being back. Each time she stretched thin red lips into a smile so cold my blood iced over. She hadn’t summoned me. She didn’t want anything to do with me. However, I had a horrible feeling that would soon change.

Moving away from the mannequin, I stretched my lower back. My hands were pinpricked and sore. My eyes achy and tired.

I’d worked nonstop for four days—ever since Kestrel took me for my first ride.

I still had bruises on my inner thighs from gripping so hard, but I hadn’t fallen off. I hadn’t had a vertigo attack. And I hadn’t thought of Jethro once as I soared over the fields and escaped everything that hounded me.

And that made me absolutely wretched.

I didn’t think of him. Not once.

Kestrel had given me so much that day, and I’d taken it with no thought as to how it would affect my relationship with Jethro. I was guilty, full of shame.

I felt as if I’d betrayed him.

And the longer he stayed away from me, the worse it became.



The next night, I entered the dining room and bumped into the firmest, most delectable chest in Hawksridge Hall.

The moment I touched him, I melted into his body. The tears and guilt I’d been storing inside sprung up to strangle me.

“Jethro…” My fingers swooped to bunch in his t-shirt. “God, it’s been days. Such long, awful days.”

I looked into his golden eyes, seeking the love I’d witnessed when I’d sneaked into his chambers. However, I recoiled at the angry agony glowing in them.

My skin prickled.