18. The Shadow of Fear
~ GRACE ~
The day before our final night in the hut, we’d just finished a lesson in blade-throwing, and I was buoyant because I was growing stronger and more accurate.
I practically skipped next to Voski as we walked back toward the hut because he’d said that my hand-eye coordination was strong enough that he’d recommend me for specialist training.
Head full of dreams of becoming a weapons master, though I wasn’t sure the Furyknights even had such a thing, I didn’t immediately notice that he was quiet on the walk.
It wasn’t until we were almost back at the hut, that he caught my hand and pulled me to a halt. I turned, stomach fluttering, expecting a kiss, only to find his eyes shadowed and wary—intent on me.
The bubbly joy drained through me like water through a sieve and I went still.
“What is it?”
“We need to talk about going back to the Keep tomorrow.” His jaw tightened. He had both hands on my arms, rubbing them up and down—to comfort me, or himself?
That sick feeling that I’d been battling for weeks, that had faded over these lovely days alone, surged back. I knew that look. He was about to tell me something he knew I didn’t want to hear. And when men looked like that, it was usually—
“We need to have a plan for returning. To the squad and the other men,” he said firmly, as if the words hurt him to say.
He must have stopped shrouding himself, because he was suddenly there in my chest—a tumult of feelings, including fear. The fear that had been his constant shadow before, but not over these days.
I hated that fear.
I folded my arms. “You still want to hide this from them.” It wasn’t a question. But it was an arrow to my heart. He’d been so attentive, so enthralled, I’d thought… well, it didn’t matter what I’d thought. Clearly, I’d been dreaming a child’s dreams again.
He nodded.
I sighed. “Why?”
“Because, to do otherwise will put a target on my back, and on yours,” he said quietly.
A hint of apology in his tone. “I’m not saying forever, Grace.
But days, definitely. Maybe weeks. The thought of flying back in and just announcing this when the bond is still so new, and we’re still finding our way…
” He let go of me to claw a hand through his hair, but his eyes never left mine.
I could feel him in the bond—he ached. Whatever he imagined in his mind, it made him tighten in fear. And that simmer of anger, the fury in him that hadn’t made an appearance since he acknowledged the bond, returned.
“I don’t like to lie,” I said bluntly.
He nodded. “Neither do I, but sometimes it’s necessary—for safety.”
I didn’t doubt that. Even I knew there were times and places when lying was entirely appropriate—especially for the safety of others, or to protect important information.
But a relationship? I couldn’t detect shame in him.
Didn’t feel anything but delight and need when he looked at me.
Yet, I couldn’t help wondering, was he just better at obscuring the bond?
He’d taught me the basics, the way to close the door on the bond—with our dragons, or each other.
Neither of us had used it beyond the games.
And he was definitely better at it than me.
Was it possible he’d been hiding his true feelings from me all along?
“No, Grace. Hear me. This is my fear. Nothing to do with you. It wouldn’t matter who I’d been mated to. This is about me and my brothers, not you.”
I frowned. “They seem to really love you, though,” I said, because it was true.
I’d had enough time to watch how the group regarded each other.
To measure the hierarchy. The others might step carefully with him, especially when he was angry.
But they also followed him. They watched him, and took their cues from his assessment.
He didn’t have Gil’s rank, but it seemed as if he was every bit as admired.
In some cases, perhaps more. I hadn’t understood that until I put it in terms of the Court.
There were nobles whose titles were lower than others—yet they were greatly liked, or admired.
They were often treated with more favor than their titles demanded.
I believed it was the same here. “If you tell them, if you ask them not to tease—”
“They won’t listen,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“And if I asked them?”
“They’ll treat you with respect. Of that I have no doubt.
That’s not the problem. I’m afraid of my response to them.
It is our way to press each other. To challenge.
It makes us stronger, and strengthens our bonds when we fight for what’s important to us.
But this is too tender, Grace. I can’t make light of this.
If the roles were reversed with one of my brothers, I’d be respectful to you, but I wouldn’t let up on a brother who thought he could simply draw a line and tell me I was beyond reach of his taunts.
They won’t respect my need for that, first of all.
And then, they’ll use it to punish me.” He stepped closer, his gaze dark and intense.
“Sometimes when the bond grips me, I move without even thinking. Remember when you threw that knife because your instinct was that I was in danger?”
I nodded, and felt sick.
He nodded as well. “I’m genuinely afraid there’s a chance I’d do the same—or something like that. To one of my brothers. I could never forgive myself.”
I blew out a breath. That did seem plausible. “But you love them, as well. Surely that would make you think?”
“Not as much as I need you,” he said baldly. And it was so strange how those words simultaneously lit me up inside, and dropped my heart to my toes.
Voski squeezed my arms. “Grace, I’m just asking for time. I don’t want to hide you. I just want to find my feet with you, before I have to face them.”
Something about this didn’t feel right. But he felt honest. The bond hummed with his conflicting tensions—not wanting to hurt me, while he also feared this.
“How?” I asked quietly, because even though this hurt. I wouldn’t force him to publicly admit his feelings for me. “How do you propose we manage this?”
He cut off, measuring me with that shadowy gaze. I didn’t turn away. Didn’t balk. He would feel my hurt, and my unease, I was sure. But also my love.
Because that’s what we had. I was sure of it, though he hadn’t spoken it, and I’d been too afraid to be the first. But until this moment, these days had been such joy. More than joy. They’d been precious.
I suddenly couldn’t imagine a world without him, any more than I could fathom losing Koa.
The life I’d always wished for—the adventure, the freedom, the love and desire… it was all here.
I hurt, because it seemed that the only threat to that was him.
“We have to fly back tomorrow. I promised Gil I’d return before the sixth night so there were no questions. That means dinnertime at the latest.”
I nodded. He’d explained that when we left the treehouse. I didn’t know why saying that made nerves shiver in his heart.
“I think the best cover is that you should return first. Only an hour ahead of me—but let Koa speak with Ekko, Ronen’s dragon, and notify him that I’m returning behind you.
It wouldn’t be uncommon in the type of mission Gil used as our story.
No one would be suspicious. And the dragons won’t be asked questions, because that type of mission is kept secret, so the dragons know to remain silent on it. ”
I sighed, but shrugged. “What time would we leave?”
“It’s hours back… late morning for you, to be safe. You can arrive ahead of me, get some food. Go to your loft. They’ll expect you to be tired after the trip. When I return, I’ll visit the barracks, make sure they know I’m back, then I’ll sneak to you after nightfall.”
“Very well,” I said. “Is that all you wished to speak about?”
“Yes, but—”
I stepped back because his proximity burned in ways that confused me, and I wanted to move past this conversation. To put it aside until tomorrow and enjoy the rest of our time, but his hands shot out and caught me before I could turn.
I went still under his gaze—dark, and intent, his brow furrowed.
Grace, you’re precious. And so perfect for me. I can’t even fathom… It has never been clearer to me that the Creator made us for each other.”
His words were sweet, and so ardent, I softened, placing my hands at his waist and leaning closer. “But if that’s true—”
“I fear how I’ll react to them,” he said quickly, quietly, his eyes locked on mine. “I am a leader. I am a teacher.”
I had to fight a smile. “And a very good one.”
“But that only means, more is expected of me. If I were to hurt one of our brothers, or lose my shit on another Flameborne who tried to touch you…” He blew out a breath and raked that hand through his hair again.
“Grace, they will use you to get to me. I know they will—the truth is, I would have done the same thing if the roles were reversed. They will see no harm in it. A jest. And a test. But I cannot seem to stay in balance when it comes to you. I need practice being with you, knowing you, with them close. I need to grow stronger before my instincts are tested.”
His expression was earnest, and haggard.
“This really worries you,” I breathed.
“I’m always worried,” he replied dryly. “But this is bigger. More present. And also necessary.”
I took a deep breath and he cupped my face with one hand, searching my gaze. And I could feel him in the bond—fearful of me, now. My response. My approval.
That was a feeling I understood. And I hated that he held that kind of fear, as I did. But it was revealing, as well.
“Who hurt you?” I asked him earnestly. “Who made you fear yourself, and this… this closeness?”
His breath rushed out of him, and for a moment I thought he’d blurt it out—the panic flashed in his eyes. But then he caught himself, shook his head, and cursed.
“I will tell you, Grace. I will. All of it. I swear. But we only have hours left alone. My story is dark and ugly. And I don’t want to overshadow the time we have left. It’s been so perfect. I want to enjoy that with you—and you with me. Can we do that?”
Conflicting emotions churned in my chest. I deeply wanted to do precisely as he said—enjoy these hours, put the darkness and worry and difficulties of both past and future aside for the time we had left.
But it was also clear that whatever he’d been through colored everything. Especially these choices.
I sighed and he slid both hands to my back, pulling me close enough to stand between his feet.
“Grace, I can feel your unease. And I hate that I’m the one who put it there,” he murmured, his expression dark.
And then I felt it. A wave of self-loathing roiling through the bond from him. Shame. Anger and disappointment in himself. That flailing sense of being wrong. And my heart surged with compassion. It was instinct to reach for him, to lace my fingers into his hair and pull him down, shaking my head.
“I want what you want. I want to enjoy these hours as well,” I whispered. “You are not a shame for me either, Voski.”
“And yet, I’ve made you afraid.”
I nodded. “I’m afraid that when we go back, you’ll return to the wall you had placed between us before.
That I’ll find you angry at my presence.
Or, that I’ll touch you and you’ll flinch.
How am I supposed to stand next to you and not touch you?
” I asked, and the question was deeply sincere.
It had become such instinct to reach for him, to lay hands on him whenever I chose, I feared that without thought, I might touch him in ways that revealed us to others. And that when I did, he’d recoil.
But he shook his head. “No. That’s not going to happen,” he insisted.
“I’m done resisting you, Grace. We’ll have to be careful—both of us.
I know I hurt you, and it makes me ache.
I am sick at the ways I spoke to you before.
The fear I caused. Even before I accepted the bond, I knew I was wrong.
And now? God, with everything in me, Grace, I’m telling you: I will not do that to you again. ”
I believed him. Believed that he didn’t intend to hurt me, and that he didn’t want to do it again. But he’d said himself, he feared losing control. Might he lash out at me as instinctively as he feared he would with the others?
The lines in his brows pinched deeper, and he took my face in both hands pulling me up and making me hold his gaze.
“Grace, I know words can’t make this true.
I’ll prove it to you. Just give me time to show you.
Please. We’ll go back. It will be hard, but I will not waver.
You have my word as a Furyknight. As a leader.
As your mate. There is no one I want to hurt less in this world, than you. ”
His words were fervent and heavy, and they made my heart sing.
I nodded, and he kissed me, wrapping me in his arms, so all the uncertainty and unease were washed away by the delight and need.
But a tiny thread of that chill remained. A fine hair of cold wrapped around the heated glow of the cord that tied our hearts together.
And all I could do was pray that we’d find our way through.
Because I wanted nothing on earth more than I wanted him.
So, I resolved to dream of the day he’d touch me before the eyes of other men. And beg the Creator to bring it quickly.