Page 109 of The Veil of Blood and Magic

I’m testing him, trying to see if my assumptions are correct about the competition between him and his father being the main motivator for him lying to him and telling him that he'd broken me. If it were true, I can use it to my advantage tonight.

“Should I change?” I ask.

Gray steps closer to me, his signature scent wafting over me in a smell that has become all too familiar over the past few weeks. “No,” he says, looking over me. “I prefer you in black.”

I move past him and into the bathing chamber. “I just need to check one last thing.” Mercifully, he allows me the moment of privacy, and I take a long look in the mirror.

I hate that Zev and Jagger hang in the balance of my decisions. But they know just as well as I do that tonight is the perfect opportunity—our last opportunity—to strike.

The Collector’s guard will be down because he will be schmoozing with the noblemen whose armies he needs in order to complete another Great Purge. Perhaps they'll even be drunk, which would be an added bonus. Maybe even Gray will partake, but I doubt it. He doesn't seem like the jovial type or one to let go of that rigid control he holds on to so tightly.

No, I'll have to focus my efforts on the Collector. And the Treasure. It'll be the first night that I’ll be in close proximity to both of them, and despite not knowing what I'm up against with the Treasure, if I can catch them both with their guard down, it’ll be enough. Once I have the bracelets off…it’ll be enough.

And perhaps seeing two of the strongest leaders on the continent being wiped out right in front of their eyes might make them question ever allowing anything like a Great Purge to happen again. And even if it doesn't, Corshna’s drifter armies will help lead the cause after. Which will be much easier without the Collector and the Treasure rallying the other side.

My heart aches, wondering what the fate of my Linked will be, and as always, my thoughts drift to Six.

He's never written me back. But I knew to expect as much. And I can’t even blame him. I kept the most important parts of myself hidden from him, but still there are pieces of me thatyearnfor him.

His comforting words, his teasing notes, his constant presence. I've tried more than once to reach out through that bond of ours, tried to bang against that silver door he slammed over it, but there was no response.

At least if I die tonight, I will know that I gave him my heart in the best way that I could. By trusting him with the truth. It was his decision on what to do with that truth.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, sending one more message down that matched bond, picturing it slipping beneath the small, almost imperceptible cracks in that silver door in the hopes of it reaching him.

I miss you. And I hope you find happiness.

I open my eyes and head out of the bathing chamber. Gray is tugging impatiently on his shirtsleeve, shifting his weight, no doubt irritated with me lingering too long.

“Are you ready?” he asks, his voice softer than I've ever heard it before.

“Yes,” I say. “Tell me, Gray,” I say as we walk toward my door, pausing before he opens it. “What role would you like me to play tonight? Shall I keep up the facade that you've broken me?”

He visibly swallows. “I need you to play your part so well that even you believe it,” he says finally, swinging open the door and guiding us through it.

“Is that how you break your Collected?” I ask as we walk.

He doesn’t answer, and I school my features into a submissive mask as he leads me into a grand ballroom filled with tons of royalty, the people of the Collector’s royal court spread among every inch of available space.

Tables are lined with gold and jewel-encrusted goblets, each filled with sparkling wine, trays of every delicacy available next to them. Music plays from bards set up in the corner, even their instruments scream wealth.

It's an overwhelming scene, especially because I know I don’t belong here. But I do my best to look listless, like I’m nothing more than a broken-down succubus, letting her owner tug her along as he ignores everyone's attempt to speak to him.

It’s my only way of distracting myself. Especially as more and more wealthy young females flit into his path to draw his attention, some going so far as to put a hand on his chest andstop him to say hello. One female is doing so now, and he looks down at her hand like he might sever it if she doesn't move.

“Apologies, Prince Gray,” she says, showing intelligence by removing her hand from him. “I justhadto come over and say hello. It's been ages since we last spoke.” Her eyes dance between him and me and back again. “Perhaps you can save me another dance?” she asks. “Like last time?”

I never pictured Gray as a dancer, and the surprise must show on my face because the female looks at me like she's just bitten into a rotten apple. She’s quite the beauty, with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes, wearing a blood-red gown that shows off her impeccable body. The two absolutely look like a match. Her severity would complement his, but he doesn't so much as answer her beyond that of a shake of his head and guiding me around her like she’s no more than a piece of furniture he needed to avoid.

“You dance?” I ask, my tone a whisper between us.

“When I must,” he says, scanning the room and the faces in it, as if looking for danger at every turn.

I suppose that tracks for a prince of a tyrant that some people love and some people secretly hate.

“I love to dance,” I say before I can think of better of it.

“I know,” he says, blinking out of his study of the room and dropping his eyes to me. “I mean you look like someone who loves to dance,” he continues.

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