Chapter 5

The fortress bells started screaming.

"You knew it would trigger," he growled against my ear.

"I knew the order was wrong. I didn't know it was wired to your blood."

"Convenient."

"You want the truth or someone polite?"

His grip tightened. Heat rolled off him through his coat, too close, too solid. His hand covered half my stomach while smoke scraped my throat.

"I want the truth," he said. "And if you lie, the oath will tear you open before I get the chance."

A horn blasted from the western wall.

Cedric shoved me behind him and reached for the pistol at his hip. The door slammed open. Two soldiers stumbled in, coughing through the smoke.

"Commander, the western gate's sealed. The purge order is active."

"Where's Cassian?"

"At the gate, sir. He's been marked."

Cedric's face went still.

I saw the answer before he gave it. Cassian wasn't only trapped outside. Someone had sent the order through the fortress using his name.

"How long?" Cedric asked.

"Seven minutes until the inner corridors are cleared."

"Take three men and get Cassian out. Don't touch the command seals."

The soldier hesitated. "And the woman?"

Cedric's eyes cut to me.

The guard's hand moved toward his blade.

"She stays with me," Cedric said.

"Commander, she's a—"

"Finish that sentence and I'll remove your tongue."

The guard swallowed. "Yes, sir."

The men backed out. Cedric kicked the broken door shut and caught my wrist before I could take one step.

"You heard him," I said. "They know what I am."

"They know you broke into my war room, changed a border order, and triggered a kill seal. That's enough for most people."

"You don't sound like most people."

"Don't flatter yourself."

He pulled me toward the side passage. I dug my heels into the stone.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere the purge won't reach."

"No."

He stopped so fast my shoulder struck his chest. His breath brushed my forehead. The iron scent from his burned hand mixed with smoke and cold metal.

"No?" he repeated.

"The order came through the supply corridor. The courier who carried it will be moving before the gates lock completely."

His eyes narrowed. "You know that how?"

"Because the ink on the border seal was still wet when I found it. The person who delivered it didn't come through the command hall. He came through storage."

"And you plan to chase him while the fortress is under purge?"

"I plan to catch him before he destroys the evidence."

"That's my courier."

"Then your courier is about to disappear."

His jaw flexed. "You don't give orders here."

"Your men are searching for a marked officer while the real messenger walks out under their noses. If you want Cassian alive, stop wasting time arguing with me."

For one sharp second, his fingers pressed against my pulse.

Then he shoved me ahead of him.

"You run when I tell you. You stop when I tell you. You touch nothing unless I say so."

"That sounds like a lot of rules for a man who keeps pretending he doesn't need my help."

"I don't need your help. I need your information. There's a difference."

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

We hit the lower passage at a sprint.

The fortress had changed. Soldiers poured through the crossways with rifles raised. Steel shutters dropped over the narrow windows. Red warning lamps flashed along the walls, turning every face hard and bloody.

Cedric never released my wrist.

When a squad blocked the corridor, he pulled me behind his shoulder and lifted his burned hand.

"Open the route."

The squad leader looked at me. "She's wanted for—"

"Open it."

"The purge order names her as an accomplice."

Cedric stepped closer. "Do you want to read the order to me?"

The man glanced at Cedric's hand, then at the pistol under his coat.

"No, Commander."

"Good. Move."

The soldiers split.

I slipped through first. Cedric followed, close enough that his thigh brushed mine when the passage narrowed. His hand stayed at my back now, guiding me without gentleness.

"You're enjoying this," I muttered.

"Enjoying what?"

"Having a reason to put your hands on me."

His palm paused against my spine.

I felt the pause all the way down to my knees. That annoyed me more than the danger did.

"Careful, Evelyn."

"That sounded almost like concern."

"It was a warning."

"Your warnings keep getting warmer."

He leaned down, his mouth near my ear. "Keep testing me and you'll learn exactly how cold I can be."

I turned my head. We were close enough that my cheek nearly touched his.

"You'd have to catch me first."

His eyes dropped to my mouth for half a second.

Then a gunshot cracked from the far end of the corridor.

Cedric shoved me behind a stack of supply crates and fired back.

The shot struck the wall. A man in a gray courier coat ran through the steam vent ahead, one hand clamped around a leather tube.

"There," I said.

Cedric reached for me. "Stay here."

I kicked the crate into his knee and ran.

"Damn it, Evelyn!"

The courier looked back when he heard my boots. He was young, maybe thirty, with a shaved jaw and a white candle stitched into his collar.

Lucian's mark.

My lungs tightened.

The courier saw my face and smiled.

"Veyre said you'd come."

I slowed for half a step.

"What did you say?"

He threw a small metal disk against the wall.

The corridor filled with choking gray dust.

I pulled my sleeve over my mouth and kept moving. The courier crashed through a supply door. I followed, slammed my shoulder into it, and found myself inside a narrow storage corridor packed with grain sacks, oil tins, and hanging chains.

The courier was already halfway to the rear hatch.

"Stop!"

He laughed. "The commander won't save you in here."

"I don't need him."

He reached for the hatch.

I snatched a hooked chain from the wall and whipped it around his ankle. His foot jerked out. He hit the floor hard, the leather tube skidding from his grip.

I lunged for it.

He rolled and kicked my ribs. Pain burst under my side. I hit the floor, but my fingers closed around the tube.

"Give me that," he snarled.

"Come take it."

He climbed over me, one knee pressing into my hip. His hand closed around my throat.

"You should've stayed in Lucian's bed."

My blood went hot.

"You should've learned not to talk with your hands full."

I drove my thumb into the soft spot beneath his jaw.

His grip broke. I slammed my forehead into his nose. Cartilage cracked. He staggered back, swearing, and I twisted up with him.

He was stronger than he looked. His elbow caught my mouth. Copper filled my tongue.

I grabbed the front of his coat and drove him into the shelves.

"Who sent the order?"

"Go to hell."

"Already been there. Try again."

He reached inside his coat.

I caught his wrist and bent it until he hissed. A slim bone knife dropped from his sleeve. I kicked it under a crate.

"Who sent it?"

"You think Vale's going to protect you?"

"I didn't ask about Vale."

"He knows what you are."

The courier smiled through his blood.

"He knows exactly what you are, Morrow."

The name hit harder than his elbow.

My grip slipped.

He used the opening to shove me away and grabbed the leather tube. I threw myself after him. We crashed into the stacked crates together.

The tube split.

A narrow strip of parchment slid free, stamped with the White Candle seal.

The courier snatched it first.

"No."

I seized his coat and dragged him backward. The parchment tore between us. Half stayed in his hand. Half stayed in mine.

His eyes dropped to the piece I held.

There were names on it. Supply captains. Gate officers. A list of payments.

One name had been scratched out so violently the parchment was nearly gone.

Cedric Vale.

The courier saw me read it.

He smiled again.

"Now you understand."

"You planted his name."

"Did I?"

"Who paid you?"

He shoved the torn paper into his mouth.

I punched him across the cheek. He bit down.

A hard glass capsule cracked between his teeth.

The smell hit me at once—bitter almond, crushed herbs, death.

"Spit it out!"

I hooked my fingers into his mouth and tried to force his jaw open. He bit down harder. Black liquid spilled over his tongue.

"Cedric!" I screamed.

Boots thundered outside.

The courier clawed at my face. I slammed his head against the floor and jammed my knife between his teeth.

"Open your mouth!"

He gagged, choking on the poison.

Cedric burst through the supply door with his pistol drawn.

His gaze hit the courier, then me, then the broken capsule.

"Move away from him."

"He's swallowing poison."

"I said move."

"If I let go, he dies."

Cedric crossed the room in three strides. He dropped beside us, grabbed the courier's jaw, and forced his mouth open with one hand.

His other hand closed over mine.

The contact burned.

Not like the rune. This was warmer, faster. The blood oath under my skin pulled tight toward him, answering his touch before I could stop it.

Cedric noticed.

His eyes lifted to mine.

"You're shaking," he said.

"I'm holding a dying man still."

"Your pulse is racing."

"Maybe because you're crushing my hand."

His fingers loosened by a fraction.

The courier coughed black foam onto the floor.

"Where's the rest of the order?" Cedric demanded.

The man laughed weakly.

"Ask your commander."

Cedric's expression hardened. "Ask me what?"

The courier's eyes dragged toward him.

"The border attack. The false reports. The bodies at East Ridge. You signed every one."

"Shut up," I said.

"He did it," the courier rasped. "Vale sold the line to the Assembly. Lucian only carried the message."

Cedric's hand went still against mine.

For the first time since I'd met him, his control cracked. Not much. Just a sharp change in his breathing and a muscle jumping beside his mouth.

I stared at him.

"Is that true?"

"He's poisoned and lying."

"That's not an answer."

"Evelyn, get away from him."

"Did you sign the East Ridge orders?"

His eyes locked onto mine.

The courier wheezed beneath us, still smiling through the blood on his teeth.

"He signed them," he whispered. "Then he sent the survivors to Lucian's prisons. Ask him why he needed the Morrow territory cleared. Ask him what he found beneath your family's—"

Cedric drove his fist into the courier's throat.

The sentence broke into a wet choking sound.

I shoved Cedric's arm away.

"What did he find?"

"He's trying to turn you against me."

"He named my family."

"He named three things he overheard in a room he was paid to enter."

"Who paid him?"

"Lucian."

The answer came too fast.

I saw it. So did he.

Cedric's face closed.

"You don't believe me."

"You haven't given me a reason to."

"I kept you alive."

"You kept me useful. That's not the same thing."

He grabbed the front of my coat and pulled me upright. My back struck the shelf. His body pressed between my knees, keeping me pinned without quite touching where it would matter.

His breath was hot against my mouth.

"You want to question my loyalty while wearing a false name and carrying a knife against my soldiers?"

"I want to know why your name is on Lucian's payment list."

His eyes sharpened.

"You read half a line."

"Then show me the other half."

"Give me the parchment."

"No."

His fingers slid from my coat to my jaw. He didn't squeeze. He didn't need to. The position alone made the power between us clear.

"You keep pushing until someone breaks," he said.

"Maybe I'm waiting to see if you do."

His thumb brushed the blood at the corner of my mouth.

The touch was careful. That made it worse.

My breath caught. His gaze dropped again, lingering this time.

"Don't," I whispered.

"Don't what?"

"Don't look at me like that when you're deciding whether to hand me over."

"I haven't decided."

"Liar."

His thumb pressed against my lower lip.

The courier made a rough sound behind us.

Cedric's hand fell away.

"We leave. Now."

"He's still alive."

"For another minute, maybe two."

"Then ask him about the order."

"I already know what he wants me to believe."

"You don't know what I believe."

"I know you think Lucian's name gives you the right to burn every room you enter."

My knife was still under his chin before I realized I'd drawn it.

His hand closed around my wrist.

"Put it down."

"Tell me why your name is on that paper."

"Not here."

"Then where?"

His grip tightened. The blood oath flared under my skin, pulling us closer. A hot line traveled from my wrist to my throat.

Cedric felt it too. His eyes darkened.

"You keep forcing this bond," he said quietly.

"You keep touching me."

"Because you keep trying to die."

"Maybe stop giving me reasons."

The fortress horns sounded.

Not the alarm bells this time.

War horns.

Deep blasts rolled through the stone beneath our feet. Every soldier in the corridor froze.

Cedric turned toward the sealed hatch.

Another horn answered from beyond the walls.

Then another.

The courier's bloody smile widened.

"He's here," he whispered.

Cedric shoved me behind him and lifted his pistol.

"Who?" I demanded.

The courier coughed, black saliva sliding over his chin.

"Lucian Veyre."

The words barely left his mouth before the outer guns began to fire.

The fortress shook. Dust dropped from the beams. Somewhere above us, men shouted that the western wall was under attack.

Cedric looked at the torn parchment in my hand.

"Give it to me."

"No."

"Evelyn."

"You heard him. He says you're the traitor."

"And you believed him?"

"I don't know what I believe."

Cedric stepped close again, blocking the corridor, the pistol in one hand and my wrist in the other.

Beyond the hatch, Lucian's horns sounded a second time.

The courier lifted one trembling finger toward Cedric.

"Ask him," he rasped. "Ask your commander why Lucian came for you first—"

The hatch exploded inward, and Cedric shoved me down as a voice from the smoke shouted, "Commander Vale, by order of the White Candle Assembly, you are under arrest for—"