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He laughs softly and reaches for his glass on the coffee table, taking an unhurried sip. “You are the most powerful, lethal woman I have ever encountered,” he says as if it’s the simplest truth in the world. Pride surges in my chest on its own accord, though under his influence I feel more powerless than ever before. He may be even more insane than I am, and that alone is dangerous. “You interest me more than anyone ever has.”

He sets the glass down, finally meeting my eyes again. “So, if you are ever in danger, if you are ever on the brink of death… I will be there to heal you.” Only a lifetime of political training could make someone such an expert at deflecting questions.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” My gaze snaps to his, sharp as thrown daggers. “There will be places where I’ll be on the brink of death and you won’t reach me in time. You won’t even be able to find me.”

“If you’re still breathing,” he says calmly but with a harsh tone, “I’ll find you.” My stomach knots at the certainty in his voice. Again, I’m left wordless. Why do I believe him?

“In the meantime,” he adds with a smooth smirk, “you still owe me a life debt. And I’m very interested to see how you plan on fulfilling it.”

That’s my cue to leave. I rise carefully, never taking my eyes off him. My mind races. Shift or don’t shift? Raven, cat, or human? He knows the raven. The secret should feel dangerous in his hands—in anyone’s—but I simultaneously trust him to protect it. I glance toward the window, then toward the door, calculating the distances.

“Deciding how to get out undetected?” he asks, tracking every flicker of my eyes, every hesitation. “What’s it going to be?”

I move toward the window. From here, I could leap into the night, take flight, and be home in Magda within two days. If I leave through the door, it’ll take three shifts to get out, maybe more. I’d drain myself before I ever reached safety. I’ve already used a good amount of magic tonight.

“Can I really trust you?” I ask, turning back to face him, my eyes locking with that molten gold stare.

“Have I not proven myself enough already?”

“You will never stop needing to prove yourself,” I shoot back. I push open the floor-to-ceiling window. Cold night air rushes in, thick fog curling where there had been none moments ago, wrapping around my body. My cloak moves softly at the rush of air. Moonlight spills over the royal town below, casting silver veins through stone and shadow.

I pause and look over my shoulder, the wind tugging at my cloak. “I want in,” I say. The truth of my admission, rather than scaring me, thrills me.

“You want in?” he asks.

“Yes,” I mutter. “Maybe… maybe this revolution is how I pay my life debt. To you and to—” I swallow, stopping myself before I spill more secrets. He doesn’t get to know everything, at least not yet.

I hear him stand. His boots cross the room in soft thuds until I know he’s standing right behind me. The warmth of his body is close enough that I feel him everywhere despite the fact that he’s not even touching me. His presence is all consuming, like warm glowing hands wrapping around me.

He smells like heaven and hell, and gods help me it’s a hell I want to burn in. “I mean, it’s only right that you replace a leader you killed.” I turn, his face inches from mine. His eyes flare, little embers sparking within them as he looks down at me.

“You mean Silas?” I ask quickly, my heart dropping. The name tastes toxic on my tongue.

“Yes.” He tilts his head, trying to figure out what’s unraveling inside my mind. “Though he was becoming a problem for me. I would have had to end him eventually.” He shrugs. “He was getting erratic. It was just a little messy, him being my uncle and all. But he was a truly vile man. You took care of what I would have had to do.”

“I killed him for many reasons—”

“I know.” He cuts me off. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I have heard your name echoing through these walls for many years. You are the greatest slayer to ever come out of the Academy.” The reassurance in his voice makes me question all that he truly knows. He knows so much more about me than he’s letting on, and it pisses me off.

A great slayer wouldn’t hesitate to do what’s necessary and torture the answers out of him, but I don’t want to hurt him. In fact, I’m struck by the instinct to protect him, to stand beside him, something that usually takes years of trust. With Roman, it comes far too easily.

“If you feel like you belong with me,” he says quietly, “in a revolution you know nothing about… then I need you to promise me one thing.” His hand lifts, gentle as a question, brushing my tight curls away from my ear. He exposes the vulnerable line of my neck. Goosebumps race down my spine as the cold night air kisses my skin.

“And that is?” I ask.

“Stop flying all this way,” he murmurs. “You’re hurting yourself. I know you can feel your body draining.” His voice lowers, certain. “I will come to you.”

Then he pulls back. The absence is immediate. Jarring.

“No promises, prince,” I say. “I don’t wait for any man. Even one with healing hands.” I turn slightly, giving him a half smile. I step onto the windowsill and, for the very first time, I shift in front of someone who will live to remember it.

My body reshapes itself into the raw, untamed truth of what I really am. When I turn back, Roman is staring at me in pure awe with the same look Silas had on his face.

With that, I leap into the night, wings cutting through fog and moonlight as I set my course for Magda, carrying the thought of revolution with me, and a Cinder Prince I can’t seem to get off my mind.

Chapter twenty-four

Under Oath