swelling with some unnamed emotion, Veronyka copied him, lowering herself onto her knee and pressing her hand to her heart. It was a position of vulnerability, meant to show complete trust.
It was a statement, a symbol—a promise.
Tristan’s eyes were warm as he watched her kneel opposite him. He heaved a great breath, his tone still heavy with regret. “Of all the stuff I said… comparing you to my father, asking if you’d used it against me or if you’d tried to control me, saying that you weren’t who I thought you were…” It was clear that it pained him to recount his words, but he did so anyway, determined to finish. “I think the worst thing I did was make you think I didn’t trust you. So that’s why I’m doing this. I trust you,” he said. “Completely.”
Veronyka’s throat constricted. She nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat.
He reached out for her—she took his hand, and they helped each other to their feet. Veronyka looked at him properly for the first time. His hair was sticking up at odd angles and he was dressed in the same wrinkled tunic and trousers he’d been sleeping in. He was usually perfectly pressed and groomed, and her heart warmed at the sight of him this way.
He gave her a rueful look. “I’m sorry I made everything about me. Only child,” he said, pointing to his chest with a smirk.
Me too, Veronyka realized. Then again, she and Val had grown up together as sisters, no matter their true parentage, and who knew what other relatives of hers might be hiding out there. It was enough to make her head spin.
He reached into his pants pocket. “Here,” he said, handing over a piece of folded paper—her birth certificate. Veronyka’s stomach hardened with embarrassment at the childish way she’d thrown it at him.
“Thanks,” she muttered, stowing it away without looking at it.
“About my reaction?” Tristan said abruptly, filling the silence. “I was—well… I don’t mean to make excuses, but the idea that you can see into my mind and know every embarrassing, highly personal detail about my thoughts and feelings, especially as they relate to you, is, well, frankly… terrifying.”
Oh. Veronyka hadn’t really thought about it that way. She imagined how she’d feel if Tristan were able to see the way she looked at—and thought about—him, and burning heat rose in her face so fast she felt like a kettle boiling over.
“I didn’t—I don’t know anything about that. I mean, not really… That’s not how it works. It’s the same as animal magic. When you connect with an animal, you don’t know everything about them, right?”
“No,” Tristan conceded. “But I usually know how they feel about me.”
Veronyka opened her mouth—but what could she say? Yes, she’d sensed something of his feelings before, but she was always fighting against their connection. The last time they’d been linked for longer than a brief flash was during the attack on the Eyrie. Needless to say, Tristan had had other things on his mind.
“It doesn’t matter,” Veronyka said. “I made a mistake, letting Val in—it won’t happen again. I’ve been learning to block it.”
“Does that work?” Tristan asked delicately, brow furrowed. “Blocking it?”
Veronyka snorted, overcome suddenly with a fit of laughter. Of course it wasn’t working—he’d almost died today because of how spectacularly it wasn’t working—but it was sweet of him to ask, to pretend that she wasn’t as big a mess as she was.
He frowned more deeply at her, obviously unnerved by her bizarre behavior. He smiled eventually, but it was a crooked, quizzical thing.
She sighed, letting the laughter go. “No, not really.”
Tristan straightened. “That’s because you’ve been doing it all alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you said we’re, uh, bonded?” he asked, struggling to find the words. Veronyka nodded uneasily, and Tristan swallowed, fighting to keep a reaction from his features. “Then it’s up to both of us to figure this out. It’s like our bond with our phoenixes,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder at Rex and Xephyra, whose heads popped up at them in unison. “We didn’t figure those bonds out on our own, did we?”
Nope, said Xephyra smugly, and Veronyka gave her a wry grin before refocusing on Tristan. His tone, his expression… Tristan was giving her everything she needed right now: positivity, hope, and the prospect that she wasn’t alone in this.
“But you don’t have shadow magic,” she said. “I don’t know if you really can.”