My response is a warning to Grayson about trust, but I’m not sure if he will hear it. “That’s how much Howl hurt everyone around him during his quest for power.”
Indira stops directly in front of Grayson. “I expected a little more hospitality,” she says, holding out her hand while Baelen takes his time joining her.
He’s assessing every part of the room and its occupants. Priscilla’s presence at one of the tables makes him narrow his eyes. He will be able to sense her sorcery. She takes on a casual pose, remaining where she is for now. If the way Grayson is holding me bothers her, she’s hiding it. But her response to Baelen is unmistakable despite her casual posture: she’s afraid of him.
“I thought there would be dancing.” Indira bats her eyelashes at Grayson. Her goal is clear—give Baelen and me space. She shrugs in my direction. “It’s not like Marbella is going anywhere.”
She reaches for his hand but at the last minute my senses go haywire. He isn’t cloaked! I can’t let her die. Not her—and not the babies she’s carrying.
“Indira, don’t touch him!”
She withdraws at my shout. Grayson slides both his arms around me, leveraging me so he’s standing behind me. He nuzzles my ear. “Aw, Marbella, no need to get possessive. She just wants to dance with me.”
“Grayson, please…”
“I promise I won’t bed her.” His hands splay across my hips, making me freeze. My stomach sinks with every moment that he continues to touch me. It’s obviously all for Baelen’s benefit.
Baelen is frozen again. I don’t have to read his mind to know his thoughts: if Grayson keeps touching me like that, he’s not going to have any fingers left by the time Baelen is done with him. If Grayson were an ordinary male, it would be true.
But Grayson is not ordinary and we all know it.
I sense Grayson’s cloaking spell go up a second before he lets me go. He catches Indira’s hand and spins her a few paces away. The music starts up again.
I don’t wait.
“Baelen.” I run to him as fast as I can, not knowing whether Grayson will jolt me backward and keep us apart. It’s likely that he’ll give us moments and then deliberately tear me away to demonstrate his control over this situation.
I slam into Baelen’s chest, the full force of contact with his body sending my senses into overload. A storm rages behind his eyes, kept under tight control, a growing tension in the lines of his jaw, the angle of his shoulders, and the flex of his biceps and forearms as his arms close around me. Up close, I can see dark circles under his eyes and the fury that fills every part of his body.
I tilt my head back, knowing that before Grayson whisks me away, I have to tell Baelen… I have to make sure he knows…
“Whatever you see. Whatever you hear. Please know this: Baelen Rath, I give you my heart. I will love you, protect you, and honor you until the end of time.”
His eyes widen before I dip my head to his chest and wrap my arms around him. I just spoke the Heartstone oath. It’s the same oath Baelen gave to me in this same arena. It will bind me to him so that nothing Grayson does can force me to hurt Baelen again.
I finish the oath, whispering against his armor. “Until death.”
I wait for him to say the words that mean he accepts my oath, that mean he trusts me no matter what he saw, the words that will complete the binding. His heart pounds against my ear. He gently draws back so he can search my eyes, the rage in his expression morphing into an even stronger emotion as he cups my cheek in his big palm. It’s the same way he looked at me before he asked permission to kiss me the first time. It’s so fierce and so real that my heart shatters.
Finally he says, “Marbella Mercy, Supreme Incorruptible, Queen of the gargoyles, you are bound to me, live or die, succeed or fail. You will never love another.”
A shiver races through me all the way from the top of my head to my toes. All four of my heartstones burst into light at once, glowing powerful and bright.
I flinch as a harsh cry breaks across the distance. Grayson doubles over, curled up on the floor twenty paces away, clutching his stomach. Did Indira stab him? I wouldn’t have thought any physical assault would have that effect on him. I also can’t believe she got through his defenses.
She backs away from him, arms splayed, bumping into the elves behind her. The shock on her face tells me she didn’t do anything. She shouts at the advancing soldiers, “I didn’t touch him!”
He clutches his stomach, lifts his head, and roars so loudly that the elves cover their ears and the glass paneling in the ceiling of the arena shatters. Glass shards creak, wobble, and separate from each other like a falling jigsaw puzzle, dropping toward the shocked elves below.
“Grayson!” Priscilla screams as she races toward him, waving away the shards that would strike her or Grayson, sending them in all directions. Whatever anger she felt at him yesterday, she’s forgotten it. Her frightened face shoots panic in our direction. But the source of her fear is painfully clear to me: she’s not afraid for Grayson. She’s afraid for herself. Grayson is her protection. Without him, she’s vulnerable.
She screams, pulling at him, trying to make him stand. “Grayson, stop it! Get up!”
Indira also launches into action, speeding toward us just as the deadly glass is about to impale the screaming, clambering elves. “Baelen!”
Baelen’s thunder booms and everything freezes, including Grayson and Priscilla—and the deadly glass shards. Just in time.
But not Indira. She plows into both of us. “I didn’t do anything! I swear. He just collapsed.”
