Page 81 of Ashborne Forged

She huffed, turning back to Donavyn. “Do you not see? If he has a Fyrehold marriage contracted, dated before the dragon, I can do nothing.”

My heart jumped in my chest, and Bren clasped my hand.

Donavyn turned on the queen, frowning. “What do you mean you can do nothing? You are the queen. You always speak up for women!”

“And I will. I’ll ensure she’s returned, that she’s not removed from this path entirely. But he is not a citizen of my kingdom, and neither is she. I would throttle Berk if he were to simply disregard the contracts of a Vosgaardian noble on a whim, because they happened to be in his kingdom. If one of his men had laid claim to Bren, wouldn’t you have appealed to me to take issue with him on her behalf?”

“Well, yes, but wouldn’t you also have stood for her, with our bond?”

“If she were one of mine, yes. But Grace is not. Grace is a citizen of Fyrehold.” She leaned closer. “Donavyn, I cannot deny his claim without opening a political floodgate. If he has a signed contract, and it’s dated appropriately, the best I can do is ask him to leave her, and if he won’t, insist on her return after she has fulfilled his terms.”

No one spoke. Bren stared at me, her eyes so sad and angry. Donavyn shook his head, but his shoulders slumped. That meant he couldn’t see a way through this. And that meant…

No. I shook my head. No, I can’t.

I can’t go back.

I won’t do it.

I backed away from them, shaking my head. But the queen only looked at me sadly. “I am truly sorry, Grace. I will entreat him to release you. But he doesn’t, I give you my word, I’ll ensure that you’re returned. Your proper place is here. Even if it takes years, I’ll keep hounding that pompous prick until he gives you up.”

Years?!

When I gaped, she looked at me pityingly—she was under no false pretenses about what she sentenced me to—then turned back to Donavyn.

“Which of the men is she mated to?”

“Voski—one of Bren’s brothers,” he said quietly.

“I’m sure he isn’t far away.” She looked at Bren, her face hard. “Go find him. Bring him here. Right now. Run.”

Bren’s eyes went wide, then she whispered, “I’ll get him, Grace. Don’t worry,” and sprinted out of the room, meeting eyes with Donavyn as she passed.

27. The Torment of Waiting

~ VOSKI ~

I paced a small patch of muddy grass outside a gardener’s door to the castle, near the royal wing. Donavyn had made it very clear that we weren’t to enter the castle, or follow—and it almost killed me. But he’d been utterly clear.

“This is my realm. I have the queen’s ear. You need to trust me to use it,” he growled at me on the road, as I watched Grace draw further and further away, that bastard’s hand still clamped around her arm like a manacle. “You do not belong in that room while you’re this on edge, and wouldn’t be welcomed anyway. You leave this to me, but stay close. When the time is right, I’ll bring her to you, or bring you to her. But you keep your head down and for the Creator’s sake, don’t hurt anyone.”

“Sir,” I pleaded. “You can’t make me just watch while he takes her.”

“I won’t,” he said simply. Then, with a glance at Ronen and Gil that made me bristle, because it was a warning to keep me out of the way, he turned on his heel and followed the others, who were growing smaller, further ahead on the road.

Grace and Bren both looked back. I felt Grace’s fear as if it was my own, and since I couldn’t follow, I reached for her through the bond, praying she’d hear me.

‘You’re mine. You have nothing to fear. I won’t let him take you. No matter what, Grace. Do you hear me? No. Matter. What.’

Watching her walk away, then eventually disappear into the castle felt like peeling my own skin off. But Ronen led me to this garden, and Gil hovered, looking pissed off.

So, I paced. Praying that Donavyn would find a way.

He knew what it was like in a bond, I reminded myself. He knew how impossible it was to be parted.

He had the queen’s ear.

He was Shadowfang.