Page 97 of Ashborne Phoenix

I slumped, dropping my chin. “Thank God—”

Voski pulled his arm from my grasp and trotted silently to the door and tested the lock, then pulled one of the upright chairs from the corner table over to prop underneath it. Then he began a silent circuit of the sitting room, before slipping into the disused bedchamber and emerging again minutes later.

“There’s no one here. And no passages in or out that I can find,” he muttered, taking another circuit of the sitting room, apparently to double-check.

Then, at the windows at the end, he stopped and looked out. The curtains were open but they showed black. The only light came from two candles the servants left on their way out the door, and it was dim. But it was just enough to see his reflection in the glass.

His face was haggard. Lined. Weary. Every bit as frightened and exhausted as I felt.

I took a breath and started toward him, aching, relieved that he was back. But when he saw me coming in the glass, he stiffened, and I stopped.

We stared at each other in that reflection, and fear jangled in my veins. ‘Voski? What’s wrong?’

‘Everything,’ he said, shaking his head slowly.

I blew out a breath. ‘You’ll beat him. You’ll win tonight. And you’ll beat your mother too.' I started toward him again, this time not stopping until I was at his back. When he didn’t turn, all that fragility and vulnerability crashed through me again. But I reached for his elbow and urged him to turn, to face me.

He turned quickly—too quickly. I wanted to flinch, but I only drew my hand back.

He glared down at me, and the link remained quiet. Distant. Cold.

Raising my chin, I put a hand on his forearm and locked eyes with him. His gaze grew wary, but he didn’t shake me off.

“Come back,” I whispered.

“I can’t,” he said calmly. “I have to—”

I stepped right up to his toes and leaned into his stomach, wrapped my arms around his waist and embraced him. He stiffened again, but I didn’t let go. “You can. Come back. Come back to me. I love you.”

His arms didn’t circle me, but they lifted, then hesitated. I felt him waver, and the bond hummed—like I’d put my hand on a door and someone knocked on the other side. But still he didn’t open to me.

‘Voski? Please… come back.’

To my relief, he shuddered, then slumped… and then flooded in. The link glowed again—but it pulsed not like a rush coming in, but… as water that met resistance. Rolling forward in a wave, then retreating, before rolling forward again.

I tipped my temple against his chest, and a moment later his arms circled me. And the link glowed with a new wave. For a time, we just held each other. Some of my fear faded.

“Where did you go?” I whispered eventually.

“Where I had to. I have to. Grace, I can’t let myself feel. If I feel all of this, it’ll overwhelm me. I have to remain untouched. The hunt… it’s my worst nightmare.”

I nodded, but didn’t take my head off his chest, and only squeezed him tighter. “You’ll win. I know you will.”

“And if I don’t?”

I lifted my head and met his dark gaze. He was finally meeting my eyes, his brows drawn down sharp over his nose.

“You will,” I whispered again. “Breckon can’t defeat you in this. You’ll find me. We’ll get through this. You’ll convince them. And then… then we’ll defeat them. You don’t have to do it on your own.”

He nodded slowly and touched my face, though he didn’t feel convinced. I was just glad that he wasn’t shutting me out completely anymore.

Then he sighed heavily, pulling me against him and dropping his head to rest on top of mine.

We held each other. And the bond continued to glow, and pulse.

But I grimaced into his robe, because that tiny thread of cold was still wrapped around it. It felt more like wire now, cutting into the soft, tender shoot of our bond, penetrating the surface of the cord that tied us to each other.

And I had to pray that he wouldn’t put a razor’s edge to it and let it cut through.