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Something in him was different. I couldn’t put my finger on it—couldn’t feel him in the link. But I could see it. Something in him had broken. He’d let go of something. I wasn’t sure what, but he looked me right in the eye and there was no barrier. No dark shadow. No hidden thought that made him turn away.

And yet, I couldn’t feel anything. Apart from the fact that the bond existed, that he still held space in my chest, there was nothing.

It was terrifying. Or would have been. But he was there, right there, holding me, locked in. And despite his fear, something in him had steadied.

We were both sopping wet. As my limbs strengthened and I could think clearly again, he helped me to my feet, and wrung out the robe. It was the only garment I wore, and though it shrouded me from throat to ankles, I still shuddered at those foggy memories of hands on my body, thanking God that they’d seemed so perfunctory, rather than violating.

When we’d wrung as much out of the fabric as we could, Voski gathered me back in, sinking to the ground with his back to a tree, and pulling me into his lap.

“We have to make a plan,” he murmured when I looked a question at him. “Together.”

I nodded. “Tell me everything that happened while I was out—what she said, and what the ritual means. I’ll—”

“I will, but I have to tell you something else, first.”

His tone was so heavy, so somber, fear flipped my heart. I’d been leaning against his shoulder, curled against his chest, but I pushed up to sit in his lap and hold his eyes. Instinctively, I reached for Koa, suddenly afraid something had happened to her.

But she remained, still high above, and her heart was lighter now than it had been.

‘We are well, Firebird. Remain. We are well.’

Relieved, I nodded and Voski thought I’d meant for him to speak.

He took a deep breath, let his head fall back against the tree behind him, and locked eyes with me, reaching up with one trembling hand to tuck a damp tendril of hair behind my ear.

“I’m sorry, Grace. And that word doesn’t say enough. I’ve done everything wrong. From the very first. And I hate it. I see how I brought us here. How Kham’s tried to help me, and you have and… I couldn’t see it. I was blind—”

“We’ve both been scared and uncertain—”

“Grace, I’m not making excuses. I’ve been running scared, determined to fix everything myself. And all it’s done is take us deeper and deeper into the dark. I’m sorry.” He swallowed, and his brows pinched in grief. But his gaze never wavered, even when he waited for my reply.

My heart squeezed at the misery in him. I desperately wished I could feel him in the bond, could send him the love that washed through me, just looking at him. Instead I put a hand to his face.

“I love you,” I whispered. “And I don’t regret it. If this is what it took… you’re worth it.”

His face actually crumpled and he dropped his chin, covering his face in both hands, shaking his head. “God, Grace. No… I’m not. But you are. And I swear, I’ll never make these mistakes again. Tell me when I’m retreating. Tell me when I’m thinking in fear. I’ll listen. Because I never want to see you in danger that’s my fault again. And I never want you to be afraid when you look at me. Ever.”

“I don’t fear you, Voski.”

He traced my cheek. “You fear my anger. You fear it when I run off to fix everything and don’t listen. I finally understand why.” He blew out a breath. “I don’t know what the rest of this night will hold. So if… if this is our last chance to really talk—”

I grabbed for his face with both hands, lifted his chin, made him look at me. “Please don’t say that. You won! Now, we’ll make a plan. Together.”

He nodded slowly. “We will. And if it’s in my power, we’ll get away from these bastards, and never walk among them again. But… I’m never using that power again, Grace. So, I don’t know how this will end. I was wrong. I invited her to bind me. And she shut everything down. You, me, Kham… It’s like there’s a steel wall between me and everyone I love, and should have listened to.” He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head. “If I can ever talk to Kham again… Well, I have a lot to apologize to him about, as well.”

I went still. “You can’t talk to Kham?”

He shook his head, and the earnest misery returned to his eyes. “I surrendered my control and gave it to her, and it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I’m just praying that as soon as I enter that Circle, it comes back to me. She won’t return it to me if it’s her choice. She wants control. Always. Of everything. Just like I did. That’s what I understand now. So, whatever happens, just know… I see it now.” He cleared his throat. “Forgive me? Again?”

Tears pinched my throat and blurred my vision as I nodded. “I’ll always forgive you, Voski. You’re mine.”

A strange cry broke in his throat—half groan, half sob. He sat up straighter, pulling me into a tight hug, one large hand on the back of my hair, the other arm pulling me against him so tightly I could barely breathe.

And I held him just as tightly. I had to. I was terrified. And yet… I felt it. Not through the bond. Not through the dragons. I felt that something in him had shifted.

And I loved him even more for it.

I don’t know how long we sat like that, but eventually he blew out a breath and backed away just far enough to meet my eyes. His hands stayed on me. His voice was low, but solid. And the cunning, certain light—that confident surety I’d always admired in him—was back.