Chapter 11 · The Night He Cut Her Down

Fingers dug into Seraph's wrist like a manacle. The other Seraph's mouth was inches from her ear, breath rattling wet in her chest.

"I was you," she said. "Loop twelve. I felt the blade go in. Right here." Her free hand touched her own collarbone, and the touch left a smear of blood. "He didn't even blink."

Seraph wrenched her arm back. The grip didn't loosen. "Let go of me."

"Guards." Varen's sword rasped half out of its sheath. "Take them both. Now, before this gets worse."

"Nobody touches her." Kael's voice cracked flat across the throne room, and the two guards nearest the dais froze mid-stride like puppets with their strings cut.

Varen rounded on him. "You're going to let two of the same face stand in your palace and you don't even want to know which one's lying?"

"I didn't say that." Kael stepped down off the dais, boots loud on stone. His eyes hadn't left the dying woman's face. "I said nobody touches her. Yet."

The other Seraph laughed, thin and wrong, blood bubbling at the corner of her mouth. "Yet. Listen to him. Careful with his words even now.