Page 119 of My Dark Horse Prince

“It’s alright,” he says. “You don’t owe me an apology for being hurt.”

“I do though, for blaming you.”

“I’m sorry that I caused you all that trauma,” he says. “I’m sorry that I didn’t listen when you told me to stop. I’m sorry that I don’t trust the government to take care of the villains of the world, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t always around to keep you safe.” He steps toward me then, his eyes intent on mine.

“I forgive you,” I say simply. “For murdering those men to save me. Even for killing the doctor. You did what you thought you had to do, and you aren’t someone who can stand by and watch while terrible people keep on doing terrible things. That’s better than the alternative.”

“Do you mean that?” Grigoriy steps closer still, his bare chest gleaming with sweat from our ride. “You’re not upset anymore?”

I shrug. “I may always be upset about it, but it’s not fair for me to blame you. The world’s a dark place, but that’s not your fault. You’re dealing with it as well as you can. So.” I reach across the foot or so that separates us and take his hand. “I forgive you, Grigoriy Khilkov. For everything.”

Kristiana starts clapping, and I startle, dropping his hand and scrambling backward.

I’d forgotten she was there.

“Okay, that was really good, but I think the reason it didn’t work is that it was really specific. So maybe try it like this.” She walks toward Grigoriy. “I forgive you, Grigoriy Khilkov, for anything you’ve done, and for anything you will do. I forgive you for hurting me, for failing me, and for being a scary man, and I also forgive you for what you’ve done in the past.”

Kristiana freezes then, and then she kind of bows backward and then collapses forward, shuddering and shivering like she’s caught some kind of horrible illness. Then I feel a strange sort of. . .pulse or something, and Grigoriy cries out.

Not in pain, I don’t think? Maybe he’s in shock?

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t think it was her,” Grigoriy says slowly, his gaze intent on Kristiana. “I think you just restored my magic.” He blinks, extending his hands slowly, staring intently at his fingers.

And then a light breeze ruffles my hair, sends shavings flying in swirls and streaks, and whistles through the top of the barn and outward.

“Whoa,” I say. “Do you have your powers back?”

“Yes.” Grigoriy beams. “I think I do.” He throws his hands outward and flies up into the air, hovering a few feet off the ground. His hair whips around his head, but nothing else in the barn shifts at all.

And then he whoops, loudly.

“How did I do it?” Kristiana looks dazed, like she’s utterly perplexed.

“You’re the one who helped Aleks too, right?” I ask.

“But you were the one who could shift him.” She shakes her head. “It makes no sense.”

“Wait. You said the powers from the bad guys didn’t work on you,” I say. “But what about Grigoriy?”

Kris blinks. “He’s never tried to hurt me.”

“But what if he did try to do something?”

“Aleks has healed me,” Kris says. “So it’s not like I’m some kind of null who no one can touch.”

“But I wonder.” I wave at Grigoriy, who’s now zooming upward and diving down toward the ground, tilting every which way like a superhero from a comic book. “Hey, come down here, Bumblebee Man.”

Grigoriy looks annoyed when he lands. “What did you call me?”

“Nevermind that,” I say. “I need a favor.”

“What?”

“Now that you have your powers back. . .”

His chest puffs up. He’s clearly very pleased.

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