Chapter 22 · Blood on the Velvet

“Kneel, both of you.”

The warlord’s axe stopped against Raven’s throat before he finished blinking. Seraphina’s chain jerked between them, dragging her off balance and into his shoulder.

Raven smiled at the blade. “That all you’ve got?”

The warlord leaned closer. His beard was threaded with silver, his coat lined in red velvet, and three iron rings hung from one ear. “You’re in my den, ash-rat. You’re chained to a holy butcher. You’re surrounded by forty armed men. Try that smile again.”

Raven showed more teeth. “I wasn’t smiling for you.”

Seraphina drove her elbow into his ribs.

He grunted. “You could’ve warned me.”

“I did. I said don’t talk.”

“You said don’t die.”

“Same thing, with you.”

The warlord’s axe pressed harder. A thin line of blood ran under Raven’s jaw and disappeared into his collar.

“Enough,” Seraphina snapped. “You wanted the stolen pass. We have it.”

That turned every eye in the room.

The den was packed into the belly of an old fortress, all black stone, iron tables, and crimson banners nailed over cracks in the walls. A dozen crossbows aimed down from the balcony. More men blocked the only door.