Page 92 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

I didn’t feel him breathe. Barely breathed myself. There was the slightest, softest sound—footsteps—then nothing.

It felt like we stood there forever, flattened against that wall. But finally, with a gesture to me to remain where I was, Voski leaned forward slowly, molding his body to the line of the curtains and leaning inexorably closer, his hood pulled up, until finally his head inched out into the hallway and he turned slowly, back and forth before easing himself back up and turning to face me, leaning into my ear and barely breathing the words.

“Ruin just left his chamber. And locked it,” he whispered.

31. Doubt Me

SOUNDTRACK: Little Girl Gone by CHINCHILLA

~ BREN ~

My brows shot up.

Voski leaned back and looked over his shoulder before leaning in again. “There’s no one in the corridor. You give him a few minutes to precede you, then you’re going to the banquet hall and pretending you were never here.”

I desperately wanted to search Ruin’s rooms with him, but I knew I didn’t have the skill and I’d slow him down. Plus, I was in this stupid gown. So, I reluctantly nodded.

Voski took another moment to ensure there was no one in the corridor, then beckoned me out ahead of him and followed me, whispering as I passed. “You walk and I’ll follow like your servant, but I’ll slip into the alcove as you pass, as long as the hallway remains clear.”

I nodded and started down the hallway, letting my line take me casually to the other side of the space so we’d be close to the alcove when we passed his door.

“Tell Donavyn,” Voski breathed at the last second, then the presence at my back was gone, and I walked alone. Slowly. Heart pounding. Because something about this felt… uneasy.

I looked behind me—had there been servants behind us Voski didn’t see, who watched him enter?

But the corridor remained empty. I slowed my pace, but kept moving—just a woman casually walking through the castle. Yet, something had me on edge. I slowed even further as I moved beyond Ruin’s alcove and turned to look behind me again, considering my options.

When I entered this wing, I’d felt Voski’s eyes on me and it had raised my hackles. Was there someone else watching now? The feeling wasn’t the same, but perhaps—

A shadow appeared from the corridor ahead, someone approaching from the adjoining hallway. I only had time to take two steps before the form was silhouetted, and every alarm in my body sang, every inch of my skin pulled into tight goosebumps, and my heart slammed against my ribs.

Ruin. Returning to his room.

His face was tight and dark with frustration—he’d obviously forgotten something and was hurrying back—but the moment he turned into the corridor and my movement caught his attention his expression smoothed… then sharpened when he focused on me.

I stopped dead, staring—probably paling. My cheeks felt cold. Along with my hands. Because here we were…

Standing in empty corridor.

With Ruin Galdec.

And I was in skirts. Carrying no blade.

Help me, God.

His brows rose and his smile pulled up as he opened his mouth, no doubt about to say something disgusting. I had no cohesive thought except that I needed to give Voski time to get out—somehow—and a warning. He needed to hear me.

So, I lifted my chin, along with one brow, and planted my fists on my hips. “Ruin Galdec,” I said in a normal voice, praying it was loud enough to reach through the door—and that Voski’s hearing was sharp enough to catch it.

His smirk sickened me—but there was also something satisfying in seeing him drop into all the things that used to make my stomach flutter—that easy saunter he’d always had, arms loose at his sides, the smile pulling up his lips, eyes sparkling and hair sticking out because he’d run his fingers through it—and feel nothing but revulsion.

My skin crawled when his eyes dropped to my toes, then raked up my body. I wished, with volcanic levels of frustration, that Donavyn was the first one to have seen me in this dress.

But I smiled. I knew I looked good—and his gaze said he knew it too.

Ruin wasn’t just putting on the saunter for me. His eyes told a story they’d told since I was fifteen years old: He wanted me.

“Well, this is a surprise,” he said in that low, deep voice he always used when he was flirting.