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I calmly turned to face him—his hand still clutched in my mother’s because he’d opened the spell, though it would not close until I agreed, and we undertook the binding. So, I closed the space between us to speak right in his face—which reddened as I spoke, because he was forced to awkwardly face me over his extended arm, which was held fast in my mother’s grip.

“You are a despicable human being,” I hissed in his ear. “Weak, cowardly, and reliant on the strength and influence of others to bolster you. I don’t need spells to beat you. I would defeat you crawling on my hands and knees.”

“Then agree.”

“I do,” I spat, grasping for my mother’s free hand and repeating his words.

Mother was ecstatic as she took our words and made them law until this circle was broken. Then, as the ritual required, I thrust both hands forward, my fists clenched, and was the first to offer the final words to turn the key in the lock.

“For the honor of the Dominus, and until this Circle is complete, bind me—”

‘No! Voski! Do not invite the darkness to bind—’

‘I have no choice!’

“—by rote and ritual. Until the prize is taken, I am shackled.”

As Breckon muttered the final vow, a sensation not unlike being doused in cold water started at my scalp and rippled down my body, leaving me shivering.

I would have sworn just for the briefest second, a gold-and-black figure eight appeared in vapor around my wrists, but then faded in a blink.

Breckon shuddered as well—so he hadn’t fudged the binding either, thank God.

I was already beginning to sweat, because I tried to reach for the power, just to test. But felt nothing. As if it didn’t even exist. While that wouldn’t stop me winning this night, I was suddenly very aware of my vulnerability, surrounded by my mother, and other powerful Cruors. But every set of eyes was avid. Fervent. They hungered for the hunt to begin. For the power it would create.

“Go,” Mother said breathlessly, stepping back to give us space to push out, between the men who had offered their power to create this ritual. “Go. Find her.”

I turned my shoulders to dart between two of the nearest men and started running straight for the trees. But I was only half a dozen steps away when I almost tripped and fell. Because I reached for Kham and found nothing.

For a split second, I thought I’d entered the void and lost him again. A cry bubbled in my throat—but no… I could sense him. Still feel him. And he was furious.

The relief nearly took me off my feet, but I kept running. I had to get into the shadows of the wood and sink out of sight, then determine my course.

Except, in those moments, as Breckon trotted away and I slipped into the trees, no matter how I tried, I couldn’t reach my dragon. Not even to sense his direction.

My dragon, who was my compass to Grace.

Dropping the Veil

~ GRACE ~

“There’s the signal,” one of the guards muttered, turning away from the bright burst of sparkling, sizzling lights that rose in the distance, closer to the castle.

The other man turned, escorting me by the elbow, deeper into the forest.

But as I turned to take a step, my lungs went cold—then the rest of me. As if I’d inhaled ice, and it poured through my veins to chill the rest of me.

I stumbled and instinctively reached for Voski—but there was nothing.

For a split second, I thought he’d entered the void again—why would he take that risk?—until I realized, he was still there, in my chest. That space next to my heart was still shaped like him. The cord that linked us remained as if our souls were still tied. Yet, I couldn’t reach him. And that reflexive sense that turned me in his direction vanished.

And in the same moment the shrieks of the dragons rose, high in the sky above our heads.

Both men flinched and looked up fearfully.

‘Koa!’ I stumbled along with them, because they picked up the pace. ‘What’s happened? Why can’t I feel Voski—what have they done to him?’

‘The mate is… the link, Firebird! It is silenced! Even Kham cannot speak!’