We aren’t safe in Astranza. I can feel it. I’ve been feeling it since we rode through the swirling snow to reach the capital. My men drew blades when that boy came crashing in with the firewood, so I know I’m not the only one. It’s likely Sev is awake on the other side of the wall, staring into the darkness just like I am. If I weren’t chained to Asher, I’d join him. He knows me well enough that he’d probably have a deck of cards waiting. I’d make a candle burn too bright, and we’d stop each other from finding sleep at the bottom of a bottle.
But I can’t. Instead, I’m lying here thinking of Jory, bold and glaring, convincing me to lay down my arms and speak to Prince Dane.
Or Asher, kneeling in the snow, wounded and defiant, ready to fight to the death even though he had no hope of winning.
Or the two of them, sitting in the firelight, revealing unspoken truths. So desperate to protect each other that they can’t see the harms they’re causing. They’re so wildly chaotic. It’s no wonder they’re in love with each other. It’s a miracle they haven’t gotten each other killed.
But the dynamic between them has shifted, just a little. Somewhere along the line, they each forged a connection withme, and I didn’t expect it. It’s a thin and fragile bond, as frail as gossamer thread, but it’s there. It’s not trust, not yet, but there’s a glimmer of it.
I glance over at the princess. Her fingers are curled against the coverlet, her hair loose and spilled across the pillow. Callum said she was beautiful—and she is. But I’ve known beautiful women. I’ve known brave women. That’s not what keeps tugging at something deep inside of me. It’s the way she convinced me to speak to her brother, despite how deep her distrust ran. It’s the way she thanked me for kindness.Kindness.
Because I’m not kind. I’m ruthless. Vengeful. Practical. I handed over her best friend because I won’t risk this alliance I so desperately need.
But the word lit a glow in my heart that refuses to dim.
And Asher...he has every right to hate me. He seems to have a right to hateeveryone. Even if Jory hadn’t said anything, I could see it myself. The Draegs torture any Incendrian they can get their hands on, so I’ve seen the effects, the way touch can be warped and twisted until it only brings pain.
Each time my fingers landed on his neck, Asher went so still, braced for torment. I wonder how long he’s gone without simple human contact, because as much as he pulls away, he seems to crave it, too. Every time he yielded, it was unexpected—and a bit gratifying. Like coaxing a wolf out of the shadows to take a piece of meat from your hand.
He told the princess he was broken. But he’s not.
I turn my head to look at him, only to discover that his blue eyes are open, watchingme.
I give a little jump, and it makes the chain between us rattle.
His eyes search mine, but it’s too dark for me to make out much of his expression. He’s wide awake, like he hasn’t slept either. Those stripes on his face are obvious even in the shadows, but so are the subtle hollows of his cheeks. When we sat at dinner, he clung to that bowl like a man who doesn’t know when his next meal is coming. He’s got enough muscle on his frame that I know he’s not starving, but it’s clear noteveryonein Astranza is eating their fill.
He hasn’t said a word, and there’s something in his gaze that makes me glad the weapons are on the floor. Though it might not matter. I’ve seen how fast he can move.
Maybe I’m wrong about that glimmer of trust.
“Go back to sleep, Asher,” I murmur.
“Why did you take me from Dane?”
His voice is a low rumble, almost softer than thought, and after everything, the question takes me by surprise. Though maybe it shouldn’t.
I shift onto my side to face him, so my voice won’t wake the princess. “My words to Prince Dane were true. I will not watch Astranza collect a bounty for a crime committed against me.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “You could have had Jory to yourself.”
“Tomyself?” I say. “If I can’t earn her affection without letting her brother imprison and enslave you, then I likely don’t deserve it.”
Asher’s expression doesn’t flicker. The room is heavy with unspoken emotion, and I wish I could parse it out. But if being a soldier has taught me anything, the cloaking solitude of night is the time we all wrestle with demons that others can’t see.
“You’ve already earned her affection,” he finally says.
“Perhaps.”
“You have. I know her. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.” He pauses. “Ky.”
The way he says that is interesting. Almost aggressive. I haven’t invited him to call me by my given name, much less a nickname, but he throws it down like a challenge.
I don’t pick it up. I throw down my own. “Are you jealous?”
“No.” But he is. A little.
As the word hangs between us, his gaze sharpens. “She’s innocent. You should know...she’s never...she hasn’t—”
