Her forehead furrowed as her hands fisted in her lap. “Don’t play coy in my domain, Nila Weaver. Don’t come in here and fish for information on my beloved brother in the hope to twist it into a weapon. I don’t hate you, but it doesn’t mean I won’t if you continue to torture him.”

Wow, what?

I held up my hands in surrender. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

Liar.

I wanted to hurt him by manipulating him to go against his family—to choose me above all others. Even his sister.

Did that make me a hateful person? To want to be the one person he loved more than anyone?

“I…I—” I have feelings for him.

The truth danced on my tongue, but I couldn’t admit it. I’d barely admitted it to myself, let alone a woman who looked at me with curiosity and disdain.

Jasmine waved away my fumble. “Regardless, you’ve already hurt him. And as much as I would like to stop you, it’s your burden now, as much as mine.”

“Burden?”

My mind raced, wishing I knew just what we were discussing.

“You’re the one who’s forced him to face an alternative to the way he’s been living. Thanks to you, the other method of coping is no longer working. It’s up to you to give him another.”

Anger took over my confusion. How dare she layer me with responsibility when I was nothing more than a captive in her home? “I think you’re forgetting one important fact. I’m a prisoner of your father’s. I’m a toy for your brother. I have no future thanks to your insane family and have no wish to help one of you.”

Lying again, Nila.

I just hoped she swallowed my fibs better than her brother did.

Jasmine leaned forward. It was only subtle, a gentle inclining bringing us closer together, yet I felt her encroachment in every cell. This woman rippled with indignation and righteousness when it came to Jethro. Her unwavering devotion was both humbling and terrifying. “Too late. You’re the one who coaxed him into your bed. He fought you. But, from woman to woman, he wasn’t strong enough for you. And that excites and upsets me.”

My shoulders slouched; her riddles made my head hurt. “What exactly is wrong with him? Why does he think he can only live if he surrounds himself in ice and removes himself from any emotion whatsoever?”

Jasmine sniffed. “That’s his secret to tell, and I will not break his trust. And you don’t understand—there is nothing wrong with him. He’s perfect. Just…not perfect for this family.”

“You’re of the same blood and seem very close. Are you saying you aren’t fit for this family, either?”

Jasmine smiled. “Smart. I suppose you could say that. Jethro and I are a different breed. Born and bred to the same parents but we inherited a different kind of madness than the rest of my relations.”

I didn’t want to hurt her, but I needed to know. In over a month that I’d been a ward of the Hawks, Jasmine was the first woman I’d come across, not counting the maids. Why was that?

“Does your mother live here, too?”

Jasmine pursed her lips. “My mother is of no consequence. Besides, I’m the protégé of Bonnie Hawk. I have more than enough maternal guidance.”

That was the second time I’d heard of Bonnie Hawk. Kes had told me she was in charge of the family’s expenses—his grandmother.

As much as I wanted to meet this elusive woman who held an entire family of men under her thumb, I wanted to stay under her notice for as long as possible.

We sat in silence for a time, before Jasmine said, “You should go. And don’t tell Jethro you came to see me. He wouldn’t handle that well.”

“Why?”

She stared for a long moment, as if deciding what to divulge. Finally, she said, “Because in his mind, we are both his. Both under his protection and both in our own little pockets of reality where he can cope. If he knew we’d met and discussed him, the pressure of keeping us protected would increase.”

I felt like a parrot as I asked again, “Why?”

“Because, Nila Weaver, he’s been raised having no one to protect him and living in a world where just the hint of being who he truly was meant he could be gone tomorrow. Ever since he could understand the differences between him and our father, he’s lived with the shadow of his own mortality. Cut wouldn’t hesitate, you see…”

She swallowed, a sudden flare of pain filling her gaze. “He’s lived twenty-nine years hiding, because if he didn’t, one day he’d be gone and he’d leave me all alone. Knowing that we had met would only give him something else to fear.”

My heart pounded with every word she spoke. “Fear?”

Jasmine hunched, her voice drifting to a fateful whisper. “Fear what we spoke about. Fear how much of his nature came to light. Fear just how much you knew, because ultimately, it’s not him who has the power to destroy you—but you who has the power to destroy him.”

By the time I crawled into my bed, my head hadn’t stopped spinning.

Jasmine was prickly and wise—an enigma who adored her brother and would do anything to protect him.

Her words were an invitation but also a threat to stay away.

Would she soften if she knew I’d fallen for him?

Would she help me understand him—grant me the help I needed to claim Jethro for my own?

She was as confusing as her brother.

And I knew our conversation hadn’t ended. I would return. Again and again.