Chapter 12 · The Blood Pact

"Get your hands off me, Silas!"

I twisted, fighting the grip, but his fingers were iron shackles. He didn't budge. He just hauled me back toward the center of the room, toward Kane.

"Now, now, Elara. Let's not be rude," Silas smirked. He slammed a thick, leather folder onto the mahogany table. The sound cracked like a gunshot in the silence.

Kane didn't even look at the folder. He looked at me. His eyes were glowing amber—dangerous, hungry—and the air between us felt like it was vibrating. He stepped in, chest nearly brushing mine. I had to tilt my head back just to see him.

"What truth?" Kane's voice was a low growl I felt in my own ribs. "You told me she was a worthless sacrifice. You lied about her blood. You lied about everything."

Silas chuckled. A dry, grating sound. "I didn't lie, your Majesty. I just omitted the... finer details. Your little pet isn't just a sedative. She's a beacon."

I froze. "What?"

"Every rogue, every exiled lord, every blood-starved freak in the wastes can smell her," Silas whispered, leaning in. "And they're all coming."

Cold seeped into my bones.