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Everyone in the chamber watched as the King of Fyrehold’s eyes narrowed and he turned slowly to stare at Breckon.

“Sire… I’m not—”

“Walk away, Breckon,” the king snapped when Voski raised a hand again, and everyone braced for him to strangle Breckon for the final time. “Accept defeat. Walk away. There is nothing I can do. If her blood lights for him, no one can take her without his permission—that is… if it’s true.” His gaze darkened as he turned to Voski’s mother. “Lady Ashford? You knew of this?”

I’d forgotten about her. She stared, her expression awed. But I felt the tension in her. Either she hadn’t approved this, or Voski had done something to anger her. Yet, she had no choice but to back him in this if she wanted me and our baby in her lineage.

“I suspected—as I told you. The bleeding was a test—”

“You claimed she hadn’t been ignited!”

“I had her veiled with the power,” Voski drawled. “But my presence since last night has… allowed her to shine.”

“It’s true,” his mother affirmed, her tone awed. “I couldn’t see it under the veil, but once her face was revealed, and with the two of them standing together, there is a… connection—as if the blood courses between them,” she whispered.

Breckon swore when the king nodded grimly.

The watching crowd was agog. Murmurs, whispers, the hubbub grew, echoing in the chamber to drown out normal conversation as they realized their king had accepted that I’d been claimed.

“If you’re truly the new Heir, kill him! Make him bleed for it!” one of the lords called.

Voski smiled that awful smile again and looked aside, toward the voice. “He’ll hurt far more watching me take her, satisfy her, breed her—all of you knowing he was too weak. Too… impotent.”

A wave of laughter rippled through the crowd at the double entendre, and Breckon’s face flushed red again. The watching Cruors were enthralled by the drama. They chirped and tittered like birds on a wire, filling the chamber with noise.

But Voski ignored all of them, turning to me as his voice dropped low so only those at the dais with us could hear him. “Sire, do not worry. The Cruor’s power will be increased tonight, as you hoped.” Then, taking my nearest hand and lifting it in his, locking eyes with me, Voski brushed a kiss to my knuckles.

‘Will you give yourself to me, Grace?’

I was stunned. ‘Of course—I already have. What—’

‘The bond is real, and eternal. But, I would bond you by your choice… if you’ll have me?’

‘Tell me how.’

‘The vows… they’ll marry us. In sight of the law, and the eyes of men.’

I beamed. ‘Darling, yes! I’ll always choose you.’

I felt the jolt of adoration through him, followed by a rush. “Mine,” he whispered. And despite the noise echoing around us, somehow the word was audible throughout the chamber. I let my expression grow entranced. “Mine,” he said again with a nod.

When I whispered, “Yes!” he slid a hand to the back of my neck, tipped me back and kissed me.

Half-amused, half-terrified, I threw arms around his neck and held him into the embrace, kissing him as deeply as I dared with the audience.

Then he swung me to my feet, his eyes glittering.

‘This has to be quick. Don’t interrupt—and no matter how they protest, you echo me the moment I’m done, do you understand?’

‘Yes!’

“My Lady Grace Barnslow,” he said, barely above a normal speaking voice, yet his words cut through the clamor in the chamber, until only his voice echoed in the resulting silence. “My word is my blood,” Voski purred, “and I offer both to you—”

“No! Vane, what are you doing!” the Lady Ashford hissed from behind us, but Voski ignored her, so I did as well.

“—everything that is mine, I make yours. Mind, body, and soul.”

“No!”