She points to my rebellion relic and says, “Melgren can’t see the outcome when more than three of you are together. That’s why you’re not allowed to assemble.”

I can’t help it. I smile. This brilliant fucking woman is mine. Or was mine. Will be mine again if I have anything to say about it. Which I probably don’t. I sigh, losing the smile immediately. Fuck.

No, I’m not giving up until she tells me to.

Things might be complicated, but so are both of us.

“That and we’re not big enough to warrant the attention of the scribes anymore. We’re not hidden. We’re just not…advertising our existence.” Which is also the reason this place is still technically…mine. Nobles weren’t exactly eager to throw their money at a scorched city or be taxed on unusable land. Eventually they’ll notice. Eventually I’ll lose it. Then I’ll lose my head. “You can know whatever you want. Just ask.”

She stiffens. “Tell me one thing right now.”

“Anything.”

“Is…” Her shoulders stutter as she inhales. “Is Liam really dead?”

Liam. A fresh stab of sorrow pierces my ribs. Heartbeats pass in silence as I try to find the right words, but there aren’t any, so I take from my pocket the palm-size, freshly finished carving of Andarna Liam had been working on.

She turns in my direction, her gaze immediately locking on the figurine, and her eyes water. “It’s my fault.”

“No, it’s mine. If I had just told you everything sooner, you would have been prepared. You probably would have schooled us all on how to kill them.” My soul breaks all over again when she swipes at twin tears with the backs of her hands. I set the carving in her hand. “I know I should have, but I couldn’t bear to burn it. We laid him to rest yesterday. Well, the others did. I haven’t left this room since we got here.” Our gazes collide, and it’s all I can do not to reach for her, but I know I’m the last place she’ll seek comfort. “I haven’t left you.”

“Well, you do have a vested interest in my survival,” she quips with a watery, sarcastic smile. “Give me a second to get dressed, and then we’ll talk.”

“Kicking me out of my own room.” I reach for that sarcastic, teasing tone that used to be so easy when it came to her and back away. “New one.”

“Now, Riorson.”

I can’t keep from wincing. She never uses my last name. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t like to remember that I’m Fen Riorson’s son, and all my father cost her, but I’ve always been Xaden to her. The loss feels like a bottomless abyss, like a death blow. “Bathing chamber is through there.” I point to the far wall and stride for the exit, swinging my sword over my back on the way out.

My cousin is leaned up against the wall, talking to Garrick, who’s boasting a new six-inch scar from temple to jaw, but they both fall silent as I shut my door behind me. They tense and Garrick stands to his full height. “She’s awake.”

“Thank Amari,” Bodhi says, his shoulders sagging. His arm is still in a sling, recovering from the four places a venin fractured it.

“She’s going to have to choose.” I look at Garrick, noting the worry in his eyes. He’s already told me he thinks she’ll keep our secret. That worry is for my mental state if she doesn’t forgive me for not telling her sooner. “She’ll either keep our secret or she won’t.”

“That’s something you’ll have to figure out,” he replies. “And then teach her how to hide it from Aetos if she chooses.”

“Any word from the fliers?”

“Syrena is alive, if that’s what you’re asking,” Bodhi answers. “So is her sister. But the rest…” He shakes his head.

At least they made it out, and now that Violet is awake, I can finally breathe. “You figure out what that box was that Chradh was drawn to back at Resson?” I ask. Garrick’s dragon is remarkably sensitive to runes, which allowed them to locate and retrieve the small iron box beneath the rubble of the clock tower.

“They’re working on it right now. Hopefully we’ll have an answer in the next couple of hours. I’m glad she’s all right, Xaden. I’ll tell the others.” He nods once and heads down the hall, almost as familiar with the castle’s layout as I am, considering he spent every summer here before the apostasy, or secession, as the Navarrians call Dad’s rebellion.

Funny how people rename everything that makes them feel uncomfortable. We lost faith that our king would ever do the right thing. And they call us traitors.

Bodhi wrinkles his nose.

“What?”

“You smell like dragon ass.”

“Fuck off.” I chance a whiff and can’t argue. “I’m using your room.”

“I would consider it a personal favor.”

I extend my middle finger and head toward his room.

…

An hour later, I’m bathed and impatient as I wait outside my room in a fresh set of leathers with Bodhi, who’s doing his best to lighten my mood just like he always does, when the door opens and Violet stands there.

I nearly swallow my tongue at the sight of her unbound, damp hair curling just under her breasts. I can’t even articulate what it is about the strands that pushes me straight into need-to-fuck-her-now territory, and I’m too busy fighting to keep my hands at my sides to question the why of it.

She exists, and I get turned on. I’ve come to accept that particular truth over the last year.

Bodhi grins, flashing a smile that looks exactly like my aunt’s used to. “Good to see you up and about, Sorrengail.” Then he smacks me on the shoulder as he walks off, looking back over his shoulder. “I’ll fetch the backup plan. Good luck.”

Gods, I want to haul her into my arms and love her until she forgets everything except how good we are together, but I’m sure that’s the last thing she’ll ever want again.

“Come back in,” she says softly, and my heart lurches.

“As long as you’ve invited me.” I walk in, loathing the distrust in her eyes.

Whether or not Violet will believe me, I’ve never lied to her. Not once.

I’ve just never been entirely truthful, either.

“Is all this original?” she asks, her gaze sweeping over my bedroom.

“The majority of the fortress is stone,” I say as she studies the detailed arches at the ceiling, the natural lighting from the windows that consume the western wall. “Stone doesn’t burn.”

“Right.”

I swallow. Hard. “I think after all you’ve seen, the question I have to ask before I tell you everything is pretty simple. Are you in? Are you willing to fight with us?” She could just as easily decide to turn us all in. She didn’t know enough to condemn us, but she does now.

“I’m in.” She nods.

Relief surges through me in a rush more powerful than anything I could channel from Sgaeyl, and I reach for her. “I’m so sorry I had to keep…” My words die on my tongue as she steps back, avoiding me.

“Not happening.” A world of hurt flashes in those hazel eyes, and I fucking wither. “Just because I believe you and am willing to fight with you doesn’t mean I’ll trust you with my heart again. And I can’t be with someone I don’t trust.”

Something in my chest crumples. “I’ve never lied to you, Violet. Not once. I never will.”

She walks over to the window and looks down, then slowly turns back to me. “It’s not even that you kept this from me. I get it. It’s the ease with which you did it. The ease with which I let you into my heart and didn’t get the same in return.” She shakes her head, and I see it there, the love, but it’s masked behind defenses I foolishly forced her to build.

I love her. Of course I love her. But if I tell her now, she’ll think I’m saying it for all the wrong reasons, and honestly, she’d be right.