Chapter 17 · The Chair's Blood Mark

The curse hit me like a freight train made of ice and razors.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. My arm burned where the black marks had crawled up from my palm, wrapping around my wrist, my forearm, spreading like ink in water. The Rook sigil on my hand pulsed with each heartbeat, and something inside me opened. Something that had been waiting.

It knew me.

"Evelyn." Kane's voice sounded far away, even though he was right in front of me. His hand gripped my shoulder, steadying me as my knees buckled. "We need to go. Now."

I tried to nod, but the curse twisted deeper, and I gasped. It wasn't just pain. It was recognition. Like meeting someone you'd forgotten, someone who'd been looking for you your entire life.

"She's not going anywhere."

Greaves's voice cut through the chaos. I forced my eyes open and saw him stepping forward, his face lit with something that made my stomach drop. Excitement. Hunger.

"The lock," he said, almost reverent. "After all these years, it finally came home."

Kane moved in front of me, blocking Greaves's view. His shoulders were tense, his hands clenched.