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‘And what does he say?’

Voski’s eyes darted toward the window and he shrugged. ‘He says he sees me. That I wasn’t to blame when I was young. And I’ve rejected what I became when I was older.’

‘There, you see? It’s not just me. If you can’t trust me, trust him.’

His brows rose. ‘I trust you implicitly, Grace. I always have. It’s myself I don’t trust. I fear you and my dragon both may be too good—you believe in me too much.’

The sheer despair in him broke my heart. I leaned into his chest and hugged him until he closed his arms around me and held me even more tightly. ‘I love you,’ I breathed through the link. ‘I trust you. You aren’t evil, Voski. You fight evil. And evil is afraid of you. As it should be.’

A shudder rocked through him, but his arms around me tightened further. Then he sighed heavily and I felt some of him relax that had been braced for pain.

It was a start.

‘Dawn is coming. I have to get out of here before that bastard wakes up. Are you certain you won’t come with me?’

‘Not yet,’ I said, trying to keep my tone strong, though I desperately wished I could. ‘This only works if they believe you and Breckon hold power over me. I’m a pawn torn between both of you, remember?’

‘I remember.’ His tone was dark, but his hands gentle as we slowly pulled away from each other.

He would leave without Breckon ever learning he’d been here. He would surprise them all, laying claim to me and stepping into his birthright as they saw it.

He would beat Breckon first. Then his mother. And by taking her down, he’d also defeat the others, including the king. And I would be so proud of him.

But all of that was yet to come. It was so difficult to pull away, to let him go, knowing how dark his mind was, how little he believed in himself. Yet, dawn was nearly here, and though Breckon would likely sleep for hours yet, the servants would not.

He had to get out of here.

He kissed me softly, slowly, hesitantly.

I deepened it, pulling him down and holding him into the embrace. Then we parted and he slipped silently into the sitting room—and then into Breckon’s quarters. The only place that had access to the secret passages.

I didn’t move. Stood there, eyes closed, holding the link, feeling him.

I felt his fury spike when he was in Breckon’s presence—and grew nervous when it didn’t pass. When I couldn’t sense him pulling further away. Which meant he’d stopped in that room.

I felt his urge for revenge, his rage, and knew he stood in the next room, considering killing the man.

I also knew we’d never win this if he did.

‘Walk away. We made the right plan. It’s a good one,’ I sent.

He didn’t respond, wrestling with conflicting desires.

‘Perhaps I should come with you,’ I sent hurriedly, and even took a step toward the door.

‘No.’

The bond swelled with his love and sense of protection. But that awful, dark rage was still there. The yearning in him to unleash—not on me, but on Breckon. He still hadn’t moved, and my pulse sped with nerves as he remained.

Soon the windows would turn gray, and the servants would appear to set fires and clear pots. And still Voski was close.

‘Please,’ I begged him. ‘Please, leave him. He’s nothing.’

Finally, wordlessly, though he sent a rush of love and admiration in the bond, I sensed him drawing away. Finally, I could breathe, because even if Breckon woke now, or the servants appeared, none of them would know he’d been here.

I thanked God that he’d fought with the demon of vengeance, and won.

I kept hold of the link, feeding love and reassurance through it as my sense of him diluted, the further away he drew.