Page 138 of Ashborne: Defiance

I’d been awful. A bully. Erratic. Raging.

I swallowed hard as she began to babble again, tripping over herself to explain—and accuse. The bundle she carried dropped to the ground, and she shook her hands as she shrilled at me.

“…never did anything to you, but you are convinced that I’m a villain, and I am not! I am not! I want to succeed. I will listen, and I will try. But I do not know this world and all I want is to be shown the way—”

“Grace,” I said softly.

But she’d screwed her eyes tightly shut and her hands were balled in frustration. “It was so frightening today, and so wonderful—and I would have failed worse if you hadn’t taught me—”

“You didn’t fail—”

“—And I was grateful. But you growl at me as if I have come to steal from you, and I haven’t! I didn’t ask for this, Voski, but I want it. And I won’t let you steal it from me! I won’t!”

She stopped then, blinking away tears, panting, her chest rising and falling under the clean cotton of her shirt because she’d left the leather jacket open.

She flinched when I lifted a hand to push my hair out of my eyes and I cursed.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

She blinked again and a V appeared between her brows. “Excuse me?”

I swallowed and raised my chin. Because she was right. And it wasn’t her fault. “I said, I’m sorry. I’ve been an ass. That isn’t your fault. I truly didn’t trust you when we met,” I said hurriedly. “But I know, you’re going to be an excellent Furyknight.”

The look in her eyes was so deeply confused, and shining with such tremulous hope, I wanted to growl.

I’d always refused to be the man who controlled others through shame and cruelty. And here I was, staring into the eyes of someone who saw me as precisely that. And she had reason to.

All Kham’s warnings came swimming back to mind.

Shit.

“I don’t understand,” she said softly.

I huffed humorlessly. “I know. I don’t either, honestly. But it’s the truth. I am reacting in ways that I am not proud of. For reasons that are out of your control. So, I’m sorry.”

She looked aside like she thought someone might jump out into the open and turn this into a prank. Then her throat bobbed. “Sorry for what?” she asked quietly.

“For being an ass.”

A tiny snort broke in her throat and she clapped a hand over her mouth, staring at me over her hand for a moment, before lowering it again and raising her chin. “Yes. You have been… that,” she said uncertainly.

I had to fight not to smile.

She didn’t swear.

Ever.

I gave it a month, tops, once my brothers noticed.

“Please, accept my apology,” I said through my teeth—because I was angry at myself. “I’ve been… not a gentleman. And you don’t deserve the brunt of my anger.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

We stared at each other for a moment and that space in my chest that was Kham, and Koa, and this thing that remained between us, swelled. I started to sweat.

“I regret my actions,” I said as humbly as I was able. “I regret frightening you. I wouldn’t ever have stopped you flying. You’ve already proven yourself, Grace. I am an ass, but I am not a sadist.”