Chapter 6 · The Council's Hounds

The council hall smelled like old money and older lies.

I stood next to Kane in the doorway, my paramedic jacket swapped for a borrowed black coat that didn't fit right. The marble floor stretched out in front of us, polished so clean I could see my reflection looking back—pale, tired, way too young to be walking into a room full of people who could erase me with a signature.

Kane's hand brushed mine. Not holding it. Just reminding me he was there.

"Stay close," he said, voice low. "Don't speak unless they address you directly."

"What if they ask about the marriage?"

"Then you tell them the truth." His jaw tightened. "That you're my wife."

The word still felt like a foreign object in my mouth. Wife. We'd signed papers two nights ago in Nora's clinic, witnessed by a half-drunk notary who didn't ask questions. No white dress. No vows.