Hudson’s words reverberate through me as I lay on the ground looking up at him, trying to decide what to do.

At one point, he asked if I’d lost my mind, and though he was harsh—and more than a little rude—there’s a part of me that can’t help wondering if he was right.

If maybe I am being a coward.

If maybe I am making a mistake.

He’s definitely wrong on one thing—I’m not afraid of the giants or of Charon. I’m not afraid of dying at their hands, and I’m not afraid of any other creature this whole ridiculous paranormal world can throw at me. After all, you can only die once (unless you’re Hudson) and how it happens doesn’t really matter.

So no. I’m not afraid of dying. But I am terrified of living…with or without Hudson.

I’m terrified of being mated to Hudson. Of really, truly being mated to a man who thinks of me as an equal in every way and who is willing to take me exactly as I am. But I’m just as terrified of living without him.

Nobody in my whole life has ever been willing to take me as I am. As I really am.

My parents spent their lives hiding from what I am.

Heather spent years trying to make me more extroverted, more bold, more like her.

Jaxon wanted me to be the girl he could keep on a shelf and protect.

Even Macy, in her own helpful way, wants me to be the Grace she used to know, the cousin she made up in her head, instead of the Grace I’ve become.

Only Hudson takes me as I am.

Only Hudson knows every single thing about me—the good and the bad—and wants me anyway.

Only Hudson doesn’t expect me to be anybody but who I am.

Only Hudson thinks that Grace—the real Grace—is more than good enough.

Is it any wonder that I’m terrified of him?

How could I not be? It nearly destroyed me when Cole broke my mating bond with Jaxon—and that was only a manufactured bond. What’s going to happen to me if my bond with Hudson breaks? What’s going to happen to me if I lose him?

I don’t think I’ll survive. And if I do…will I be like Falia, a shell of my former self, dying a little more each day but without the ending that comes with death?

I can’t do that. I won’t do that.

But what’s the alternative? I wonder as I take Hudson’s hand. Giving up without even trying? Letting him go instead of fighting for the life that we could have together? Depriving us both of the happiness we could find, just because I’m too scared of what might go wrong?

That’s so much worse.

Hudson has been to hell and back. He’s lived with two parents who used him as a pawn, who isolated him and hurt him and only wanted him when they could use him as a weapon—against each other and the rest of the world. He lost his brother, and then, when he thought he would get him back, he ended up losing him again. He literally died so that Jaxon could live.

And still he’s willing to try. Still he’s standing right here in front of me, loving me despite everything he’s been through and everything I’ve put him through.

He doesn’t expect more from me than I can give.

He doesn’t even expect me to fight these giants as well as he can.

He just wants me to be in it, with him.

He just wants me to believe in myself—and believe in us—as much as he does, no matter what the future holds.

And damn it, he’s right.

I run my thumb over Hudson’s promise ring—over my ring—as the truth sweeps through me. I’ve had a metric shit ton thrown at me since getting to Katmere, and I’ve made it through every single thing with the help of the people who care about me. I’ve done whatever I had to do to survive without also losing myself, and there is no way I am going to quit now just because having someone who sees me—really sees me—scared the hell out of me for a little while.

Those two giants don’t scare me and neither does Hudson. He’s one hell of a guy, and he deserves a girl as strong as he is. I guess it’s time I prove I’m that girl.

“You forgot your ex-girlfriend’s human-sacrifice plot,” I tell him as I finally pull myself to my feet.

He looks baffled. “What does that even mean?”

“When you were listing the things that I’ve survived, you forgot Lia’s little shop of horrors. And I figure if I can get through that, I can get through anything. Even you.”

“Oh yeah?” He lifts a brow, but his eyes are brighter, more intense, than I have ever seen them.

“Yeah.” I take a deep breath. “So let’s go kick some giant ass, shall we?”

“Pretty sure that’s what I’ve been saying all along,” he answers. “Now duck.”

I do, rolling under Mazur just as he launches another flying-body tackle straight at me.

Hudson laughs, then fades to right behind the giant—a surefire sign that he really is reaching the end of his strength. He’s only fading short distances now, the energy it takes to go from one end of the ballroom to the other too much for him.

Which means I’m going to have to figure something out. Because no way am I disappointing Hudson or myself. Not like this and not ever again.

Ephes is still racing toward me, and as I stop, drop, and roll right through his legs, I catch sight of something that just might help me end this ridiculousness once and for all.

Game. Fucking. On.

143

Hit Them with

My Best Shot

There are no weapons in this damn ballroom, nothing I can use to bring down a giant—which is basically the point. Charon stripped the room of everything that might be of use to Hudson and me…or so he thought.

But there’s one thing he forgot to take, one thing my months at Katmere definitely taught me could be one hell of a weapon. The chandeliers. And these aren’t just any chandeliers.

At first, I thought they were made of bones, like the ones in the tunnels at Katmere. But as I look at them closer, I realize they’re made of animal teeth and tusks. Which is awful and horrible—what the fuck was Charon thinking?—but also not unhelpful in my present situation.

Because there are a couple of narwhal tusks up there that could do the job. And if not, well, concussions are good, too.

Mazur is back and he is pissed, so I dodge one huge foot and take off running toward the other end of the ballroom with him on my tail.

He’s even angrier now that he missed me, and he starts smashing the ground with his fists like he’s playing a game of Whac-a-Mole. Or, more likely, Whac-a-Grace. It’s not that hard to dodge when he’s just using one fist, but when he starts using both, I end up having to hop around like a frog on speed to avoid getting pancaked.

But then Hudson fades over to me, Ephes hot on his heels. I give him a what the hell look—I’m a little busy trying not to get squished by one giant right now—but then he does something genius. He starts fading in little back-and-forth movements around the giants—next to one’s foot, then the other’s, zigging and zagging. Between that and me continuing to jump to avoid slamming fists, it doesn’t take long before the giants are totally confused—and hitting and kicking each other in their effort to get to us.

Which pisses them off—and at each other—and gives Hudson and me a little leeway to get to the other end of the ballroom without having to worry about getting squished.

I’m breathless by the time we make it over there—even if he’s not fading, I can’t keep up with Hudson—and I brace my hands on my thighs and gesture Hudson closer to me.

“I know you’re having trouble fading, but do you think you can do it two more times?” I ask as I drag deep breaths into my lungs, every one more painful than the last. “I’ve got a plan.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to. You know that.” He bends down a little until his face is right next to mine. Then he steals a quick kiss before asking, “What’s the plan?”

The part of the crowd that isn’t currently booing the giants for fighting each other goes wild at the kiss, but I ignore them. What kind of jerks show up to a gladiator match anyway, let alone show up and want a little romance with their blood and gore? Assholes.

“I’m going to use myself as bait,” I tell him, “and get them both in the center of the arena. If I can keep them there for a few seconds without getting ripped limb from limb, do you think you can release the rope on one of the chandeliers before fading to the other end of the ballroom and releasing the other chandelier right after?”

His eyes light up. “You’re going to try to knock them out with the chandeliers? I love it.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly an original idea,” I tell him with a grimace. “You forgot one other thing I survived at Katmere—death by chandelier. But if we’re lucky, it might work today.”

“Tell me when you’re ready and I’m on it,” he says, and he sounds like the same cocky Hudson I’m used to. But his eyes are shadowed, and his breathing is a little shallower than usual.