Page 3 of Ashborne Forged

“Voski, what are you afraid of?” she breathed.

My breath rushed out of me. I should have let her go, given her space. But I was as terrified of releasing her, as I was of losing her. There was no way through this but to tell her the truth. Yet I shied from that. Until the bond sang with pain once more, and I scrambled.

There was some I could tell her.

“The reason I knew what you needed after you took down that man in the alley, is because I’ve been through it,” I muttered, trying to measure my words in a reeling head, push back the veil of the shrieking fear.

But Grace frowned. “You’re a soldier. All soldiers have—”

“No, Grace.” God. I’d never told anyone about this except Kham. The words were right there. They hung on the edge of my vision every day. But I’d kept them tied down. Chained. Now that I wanted to pull them loose, to shake them free, they didn’t want to come.

The chains were heavy.

I swallowed hard. “My first kill was at fifteen years old,” I said hoarsely. “Before I met Kham, or any dragonfury. Before I’d even left home.” Her brows shot up. But I had to keep speaking, or I wouldn’t be able to drag these words free. “I was raised as a weapon. Taught to survive at the cost of others. But one night when I was still young, I used those skills and unraveled everything. I…” I blew out a breath and prayed for courage, heard Kham call for me in the distance. My heart raced. “I killed… a man. Then, later, I learned I had killed the wrong person. And it… it almost killed me.”

Her frown deepened. “Who? Who did you kill?”

“A noble,” I said through my teeth. “A noble who was wrong and…” It felt like tearing my leathers open, baring my chest, and offering her a knife to put through my heart. I’d never spoken about this out loud. “But Kham saved me. He saw that I was more than the events of that night. That I could be more. So, trust me, I know how it feels to be saved. I know how important it is. I also know I’m capable of hurting anyone. Be it with a knife or… other means.” There was so much more, but I’d already given her such a burden to carry. “I tied myself up to keep myself away from you because the bond is mighty. Grace, I still fear what I might do if I give in. I can’t lose control. Not with anyone, but especially not with you.”

‘This is what you’ve been hiding? Why you resisted her?’ Kham sighed in my head. ‘You should have spoken this. Brought the darkness to light.’

He wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t even want to think about this.

“Grace,” I croaked. “I didn’t resist because I didn’t want you. I resisted because I’m afraid I’ll destroy us both.”

She gave a breathless little huff, and I felt her shoulders drop a hair.

But I shook my head. “I’m not being noble. I’m not being stupid. I am a realist. I have hurt people, Grace. Terribly. And I’ve been hurt. You deserve someone who protects you—not danger you must protect yourself from. If I lost control and you were harmed… well, you’ve already seen what happens when I’m angry. Imagine if—”

“I would love you,” she whispered, then clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes flying wide in fear, staring at me—waiting for me to flee.

And she had reason to. Every time before that we’d been close, when she said loving words the two sides of my heart went to war. One half of my heart was a yawning chasm that ached for her—and was thrilled.

But the piece of me that was broken, and dark, and held memories of blood and screams and destruction, pulled at me to run.

‘Do. Not. Run,’ Kham growled.

‘I won’t.’

I couldn’t. It was too late. I was too weak. I’d been fighting too long. The irony of all this was that in trying to keep her safe, I’d hurt her further. And myself as well.

The bond I’d despised, resisted, been certain I could beat, was now a wound in my chest. My soul bled. It was too hard. I wouldn’t cut either of us again—I couldn’t. Now that she knew… shit. If I made her believe I ran because she wasn’t enough now, I might as well plunge my knife into her chest. Which would be akin to stabbing myself.

The moment she’d been willing to deny me, was the most terrifying and painful moment of my life—and not a hand had been laid on me. Thank God I’d stopped her from severing us completely. But where did that leave us now?

Mine.

The word echoed across memory, and in the link with Kham. It hung in the air in this precious place.

Mine.

Made for me.

And even though I hadn’t moved, her hands tightened on me.

She was afraid.

I’d made her afraid.