“You are not chained to Zavier.” “There’s a treaty somewhere on this continent that proves otherwise.” Ransom growled. “Who did you exchange vows with, Odessa?” “Zavier.” He’d stood at my side. He’d signed his name in blood. He’d vowed. Except he hadn’t uttered a word. Not once. The Guardian, Ransom, had volunteered to speak for his prince. Oh, gods. The color drained from my face.
