Chapter 12 · The Third Way
"Don't move." Kael's voice came out wrong, thick, like he was talking underwater. The blade hadn't shifted. Still flat against her throat, cold enough to burn.
Seraph didn't move. She barely breathed, just shallow pulls of air that made the steel kiss her skin with every inhale.
"You said my name," she said. "In the memory. Say it now."
"I don't remember anything." But his hand was shaking. She felt it through four inches of blade, straight into her pulse.
"Liar." She didn't flinch. Seventeen deaths taught her that much — flinching gets you killed faster. "You called me Seraph before you ever asked my name. That's not a guess. That's a memory."
His jaw worked. The blade dipped, just a hair, and she felt the edge slide off her skin like he'd forgotten it was there.
"Get it off my throat, Kael, or use it. Pick one."
He pulled it back. Fast, like it had burned him too.
"Why do you keep doing that," he said. "Daring me."
"Because you keep almost killing me and stopping. I want to know which one you're actually going to do.
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