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“He saved my life while you were gone. Twice.”
“And I’m grateful for that. Truly. But I can’t trust him. Not with you. Please don’t ask me to.”
Mia looked down, her thoughts racing. Tyrell had terrified her once, so she understood Grayson’s distrust. But the Tyrell she knew now was not the same Tyrell who had beaten her. Grayson didn’t know this version of Tyrell—just as Tyrell didn’t know the version of Grayson that she did. Both brothers were fierce, deadly, and unflinching, just as they’d been raised to be. It was only with her they showed a gentler side; a vulnerability that came through trust.
She wanted to fight for Tyrell. But, deep down, she felt a whisper of doubt. Hehadbetrayed her once, with Grayson’s letter. She might dare to trust her life with Tyrell, but she wasn’t sure she trusted him enough to risk Grayson’s. Not when the brothers were such bitter enemies.
She didn’t want to leave Tyrell behind. But she’d resolved to leave him once before, hadn’t she? At least this time Henri couldn’t blame him for her disappearance; it would be clear she’d left with Grayson. Tyrell would be all right. He’d be angry she’d left, and hurt—the thought made her chest ache—but she didn’t have another choice.
“All right,” she whispered.
Grayson’s fingers touched her chin, coaxing her eyes back to him. His were full of love and promise. “Iwillget you home,” he said. “Everything you’ve had to endure here . . . I swear, all of this will be behind you soon.”
She didn’t know why, but his words—meant to be comforting—brought a strange chill to her skin.
Chapter 2
Grayson
Graysontookslow,measuredbreaths through his nose. The right side of his face was an inferno, but as long as he didn’t move abruptly or stretch the burn, it was only a throbbing agony. He’d been talking too much, which had pulled at the wound.
Kissing Mia probably hadn’t helped, but he had no regrets on that score. After being separated for so long, he’d needed her in his arms. Needed to feel her mouth against his so he could finallybreathe.
His newest scar would be impressive. He knew that, even if he hadn’t been able to study the damage yet. He wanted to. He wanted to know if it looked as terrible as it felt. But he didn’t want Mia to see him looking, so he avoided the mirror by the wash basin while he got ready to meet his father and brothers in the courtyard. Whenever Henri summoned them all together, bad things followed. At least Mia wouldn’t be left in the castle with any of them. Especially Tyrell.
Grayson picked through his old weapons, grimacing at his options. His best weapons had been taken when he’d been thrown into that cell downstairs. He didn’t know if or when he’d get his sword back, or his favorite daggers. While their loss was the least of his worries right now, he still missed them. His weapons were a part of him, and he hated being without their familiar weight.
Buried among his old weapons, he spotted a worn pair of black leather gloves. The sight made him pause.
When Imara had packed his things in Duvan, she hadn’t grabbed his gloves. He’d gotten used to not wearing them, but in this moment, knowing he had to be the Black Hand one last time . . .
He lifted the gloves and tugged them on, then belted on some knives. When he stood, Mia handed him a clean shirt. Grayson murmured his thanks as he carefully shrugged out of his bloodstained one. He could feel Mia’s eyes on him, her worry like a physical vice around his lungs. Seeing his scarred body probably wasn’t helping.
I can protect you. That’s what he wanted to say. He wanted to reassure her that he was strong enough to keep her safe. He was stronger than Tyrell.
He didn’t say a word, because there was a knock on the door.
Mia moved to answer it, but Grayson caught her arm. “Let me.”
“It’s probably Fletcher or Rena,” Mia said quietly.
“It might not be.” Grayson tugged the clean shirt over his head, careful not to let the fabric brush the right side of his face. He pulled the hem down as he strode to the door.
Three people stood on the other side of it. Grayson noticed Tyrell first, since his brother was the biggest threat. But since he hung back, Grayson took in the others.
Fletcher stood in front, the old guard’s eyes rounded as he took in Grayson. “Fates,” the man breathed. “You really are back.”
An unfamiliar woman hovered beside Fletcher. Grayson assumed it was his wife, Rena. She had graying hair, and light wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. She was pale as she stared at his jaw, her lips parted in shock.
Grayson’s grip tightened on the door’s handle. He spoke directly to Fletcher. “Keep Mia safe while I’m gone.”
“Of course.” There was pity in the man’s eyes as he stared at Grayson, along with a hundred unspoken questions.
Grayson twisted to Mia, who’d come to stand beside him. He brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I’ll return as soon as I can,” he whispered.
Her eyes battled worry, but it was clearly not for herself. “Please be careful.” She darted a look at Tyrell. “Will you watch out for him?”
Grayson clenched his teeth.
