Page 95 of Ashborne Forged

“Before today, if at any time I had been asked which single man I trusted to send anywhere, into any environment, with needlepoint precision for the task at hand, I would have named you. But today I learned that becoming a mate stripped you of your self-control, and I fear, your integrity!”

My jaw dropped as Ronen stepped in for me.

“Sir, Voski has struggled, but no one understands the need for subterfuge better. And he isn’t bloodthirsty like some,” he said with a sideways glance at Gil, who shrugged. “Surely you of all people understand—”

“I do,” Donavyn snapped. “But you do not.”

Ronen frowned.

“I’m not speaking of Voski’s willingness to hide the matebond, though that was questionable. I’m referring to his murder of a citizen without even notifying us.”

I almost frowned. Almost questioned him—then remembered.

Grace.

The thief, who wasn’t a thief, but one of Breckon’s spies. I swallowed hard. I couldn’t tell them that it had been Grace who killed him. As a Flameborne, she held no authority for capital force. She’d be disqualified and never become a Furyknight.

She had to become a Furyknight.

“Sir,” I breathed. “He was coming for me—”

“Then you should have told us!” Donavyn thundered.

“Sir, Voski is—” Ronen started, but Donavyn snarled over him.

“Voski is a liar who breached conduct so seriously, even if events hadn’t outstripped us today, I would have dragged him in front of a Tribunal.”

Ronen’s brows shot up. “What?!”

Panic fluttered in my chest as our General swelled, glaring at me. But his tone remained quietly furious. “Not only did you nearly lay hands on a noble, despite our warnings, not only did you take the life of a citizen and hide it, you have confessed to a breach of your vows, and removed any lasting trust that might have remained.”

“They were all separate events—” I scrambled. But he snapped over me.

“I could have forgiven one of these, Voski. Hell, even disciplined you myself for two. But all three together? And at the same time? The queen lays responsibility for you at my feet and you want me to stand in your stead while you show such disregard for any goal or priority but your own?”

“No, sir,” I said quickly. “I know I lost control, but surely you of all people understand—”

“Of course I do!” His eyes narrowed to slits and his voice took a dark edge. “You think I never fought the force of the bond? Do you truly believe I never had to hold myself back from violence for her sake?!”

“Of course not. I only meant you’d understand how easy it is to lose sight of anything else!”

His mouth closed and he nodded once, tightly. “I do. Which is precisely why I cannot allow you into Fyrehold. I cannot send you when you’ve already proven you cannot control yourself. I can’t condone the conduct you’ve displayed in the past few weeks. And I definitely cannot have anyone who would so willfully deceive us, represent the kingdom as a Furyknight.”

“But sir!”

Gil and Ronen lurched forward, but his eyes remained fierce and fixed on me. I’d seen that resolute set to his jaw before. The echo of those words, alongside the bonfire of anger in Donavyn’s eyes and posture, was a death knell in my heart. My heart clenched in dread. I couldn’t breathe. My head swam with the images of my worst nightmares.

No Furyknights.

No dragons.

No society.

Loss of squad.

No more family.

No more belonging—