Chapter 3

"Who bled first?" he asked.

"You did."

"Wrong."

"Then stop staring at my hand and answer your own damn question."

His eyes dropped to the blade, then to the red light crawling between their fingers.

The contract had started forming minutes ago. It still wasn't complete. The glowing lines ended at Vera's knuckles, trembling like they needed one more thing from her.

Rafe's grip tightened.

"Let go of the pin."

"Take it from me."

"You want to test how much blood this bond needs?"

"I want to know why you're scared of it."

His jaw locked.

There. That pause.

Vera pushed the blade closer to his pulse. His throat moved against the metal. His breath brushed her mouth, hot and rough, carrying the bitter bite of silver antidote.

"You keep a cure in your coat," she whispered. "Your left hand won't stop shaking. You can barely stand when the contract flares. So tell me, Commander. How long do you have?"

"Long enough to watch you sign."

"You can't even hold a cup."

"I can hold you."

His knee drove between hers before she could answer. The backs of her thighs hit the desk. Wood cracked beneath her.

The blade jumped.

Rafe caught her wrist and shoved it above her head. The hairpin scraped the wall beside his ear instead of his throat. His chest pinned her in place, hard and close. His coat dragged over her torn sleeve.

"Careful," he said.

"You're the one putting your neck under my knife."

"You're the one pretending you don't want to know what happens if you cut me."

"I want to know what happens if I cut you."

His face lowered until his mouth hovered a breath from hers.

"Liar."

The word warmed her lips.

Vera hated that she noticed. Silver poison still crawled through her veins, and she was paying attention to the heat of his mouth?

She twisted her wrist.

Rafe's fingers slid over her pulse. Not gentle. Not quite cruel. He knew exactly where to hold her so the blade became useless.

"Sign the obedience clause," he said. "The guards outside this wing won't drag you to the council gallows."

"You mean your guards won't drag me there."

"The council already sent the order."

"Then let them come."

His mouth tightened. "You won't say that when they put the rope around your neck."

"And you won't say that when your hand stops shaking long enough to lose the last dose of your precious cure."

For one hard second, neither of them moved.

Then a horn sounded below.

Not a warning horn.

A gate horn.

Rafe released her so fast she nearly fell. He caught her elbow, shoved her upright, and snatched the contract off the desk.

"What was that?" Vera asked.

"The outer watch."

"You said the fortress was sealed."

"It was."

Another horn blasted through the keep. This one was closer. Men shouted beyond the walls. Metal clanged. Boots pounded up the stairwell.

Rafe headed for the inner door.

Vera rubbed her wrist and followed. "Who is here?"

"The council."

"Lucian?"

Rafe stopped.

The question hit harder than the horns.

"You know him," he said.

"Everyone knows Lucian Creed. He signs death orders and lets other people hold the knife."

"Did he send you?"

Vera laughed once. It came out dry. "You still think I tried to kill you for him?"

"You were caught with your blade in my chest."

"I missed."

"You didn't miss."

His gaze dropped to the blood beneath his collar.

"You stopped," he said.

Vera stepped closer. "Maybe I changed my mind."

"You don't change your mind. You change your angle."

"And you hide your weakness behind a title. Look at us. We both have habits."

The wall shook.

Dust fell between them.

Rafe crossed the room and pulled open the iron viewing panel. A guard shouted through the opening.

"Commander! Council banners at the lower pass! They've brought a full inquisitor squad!"

"How many?"

"At least thirty. More behind them."

"Open the inner gate," Rafe ordered.

Vera stared at him. "What?"

The guard hesitated. "Commander?"

"Open it."

"But the storm—"

"I said open it."

The guard ran.

Vera caught Rafe's sleeve. "Are you insane?"

He looked at her hand on him. The contract marks beneath their skin flashed hot red.

"Take your hand off me."

"You just ordered your soldiers to open the gate for the people coming to hang me."

"No. I ordered them to open the inner gate."

"So they can reach us faster?"

"So I can lock the fortress down from the inside."

He pulled free and strode to the command table. A rolled map lay beneath a stack of keys. Rafe swept everything aside and reached into a hidden compartment.

He pulled out a black metal seal.

Vera knew it immediately.

The surrender seal.

Every commander in the north carried one. Press it into the council's hands, and the fortress became theirs. The commander walked out alive.

Usually.

Rafe struck a match.

Vera stepped in front of him. "What are you doing?"

"Making a choice."

"You could surrender."

"I could."

"Give them me. They want the assassin, not your keep."

"They want both."

"Then hand me over and save yourself."

Rafe's eyes went cold. "You think I'd trade my fortress for your life?"

"You already traded a lot for it. Don't pretend this is some grand rescue. You're protecting your reputation."

"My reputation doesn't need protection."

"No? The council calls me a rogue killer. They'll call you a traitor if you shelter me. Your people will watch you burn for one woman you met yesterday."

He struck the match against the table.

The flame touched the surrender seal.

Vera grabbed his wrist. "Stop."

The silver poison in her blood kicked hard. Pain snapped through her ribs. Her fingers went weak.

Rafe caught her before her knees hit the floor.

"Get off me," she gasped.

"You can't stand."

"I can stand when you stop pushing silver through my veins."

His arm locked around her waist. His palm pressed against her side, right over the poison burn. Heat soaked through her shirt.

"The antidote isn't mine," he said.

"That's a lie."

"It's enough for one dose."

"Then use it."

"I can't."

"Can't, or won't?"

He looked down at her. They were too close again. His breath touched her cheek. His hand stayed at her waist, fingers spread beneath her ribs like he owned the space there.

"If I take it, you die before dawn," he said.

The words cut through the pain.

Vera shoved against his chest. "Why?"

"Your blood is carrying the poison faster than mine."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means the partial dose only slows one of us."

"So you planned to let me die?"

"I planned to keep you alive long enough to answer my questions."

"That's not the same thing."

"It is when the alternative is a rope."

"You don't get to call this mercy."

"I didn't. You did. Every time you called my protection a trick."

He shoved the burning seal into an iron tray.

Flames climbed over the black metal. The stamped wolf split down the middle, then disappeared beneath the ash.

Vera watched his escape burn.

"You just destroyed the only proof you could surrender," she said.

"Yes."

"You could've walked out."

"Not anymore."

"You could've saved yourself."

"Not anymore."

The keep shook again. A deep boom rolled up through the floor. Men screamed orders below.

Rafe picked up the contract and laid it flat on the command table.

The red writing crawled across the page. Vera saw her name at the top. Beneath it, the obedience clause waited in dark ink.

Serve under Commander Rafe Valko.

Remain within his private wing until released.

Obey direct orders during an active council threat.

Refusal would be treated as breach of debt.

Breach meant death.

Vera stared at the final line.

"You want me to sign this now?"

"Yes."

"With the council at your gates?"

"Especially now."

"If I refuse?"

"I lock you in the lower cells."

"And let your guards hand me over?"

"No. I kill anyone who tries."

She searched his face. "You expect me to believe that?"

"No. I expect you to understand the math."

He pointed at the contract. "Sign, and you stay under my protection. Refuse, and I have to chain you where I can't reach you. When the council breaks through, they take you first."

"And you?"

"I fight."

"Alone?"

"I fight better alone."

"That's why your hand is shaking?"

His stare sharpened.

Vera leaned over the contract. The red glow beneath their hands pulsed through the paper.

"You need me beside you," she said. "Not locked away."

"I need your information."

"You need my knife."

"You don't have a knife."

She smiled without warmth. "You should search me again."

His eyes dropped to her mouth for half a second.

The pause burned.

"Don't," he said.

"Don't what?"

"Make this harder."

"You dragged me into your private wing, stripped my weapons, threatened me with a death bond, and burned your surrender seal. Don't blame me because the room feels crowded."

Rafe stepped behind her.

His chest brushed her back. One hand landed on the table beside hers. The other closed around her fingers and dragged them toward the contract.

"Sign."

"Order me again. Maybe I'll enjoy refusing."

"Vera."

Her name came out low. Not a threat this time.

Worse.

His mouth hovered near her ear. Heat slipped through her hair and down her neck.

"If you sign," he said, "you stay alive."

"And become your private captive."

"Yes."

"Say it properly."

His fingers tightened around hers.

"You become mine to protect. Mine to command inside this keep. No council officer touches you without going through me."

"And outside this keep?"

"Outside, you run."

"With your bond around my hand?"

"The bond is already there."

"It hasn't closed."

"It will when you sign."

"What happens to you when it closes?"

His breath stopped for one beat.

There it was again.

The answer he wouldn't give.

Vera turned her head. Her cheek brushed his jaw. "Does it hurt you too?"

"Sign."

"Does it make you feel what I feel?"

"Sign, or I put you in chains."

"You can't lie with your hand on mine."

His thumb moved once across her knuckles.

Not comfort. Not exactly.

Still, her pulse jumped beneath it.

"You have ten seconds," Rafe said.

"You don't have ten seconds."

"Nine."

"Your men are losing the lower gate."

"Eight."

"Your cure is burning a hole through your pocket."

"Seven."

"And if I sign, you can't kill me without killing yourself."

His eyes cut to hers.

Vera saw it.

The smallest break in his control.

"So that's what you were hiding," she whispered. "The bond doesn't only make me obey. It ties my death to yours."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then deny it."

"Six."

"Deny it, Rafe."

"Five."

"Look me in the eye and tell me you can execute me after I sign."

He didn't answer.

The contract began to glow beneath their hands.

"Four."

"You need me alive."

"Three."

"No. You need me alive enough to use. That's different."

"Two."

The gate horn screamed below them.

Rafe's mouth tightened. "One."

Vera seized the pen.

Not because she trusted him.

Because the alternative was a council rope, a blade in the dark, and Lucian Creed's hands closing around the rest of her life.

She cut her thumb on the pen's silver edge and pressed it to the signature line.

"I don't obey you because you own me," she said. "I obey because I haven't found the right way to ruin you yet."

Rafe's hand covered hers.

"Keep telling yourself that."

Her blood hit the paper.

The contract slammed shut.

Red light tore across the room, raced from the page into Vera's wrist, then jumped into Rafe's hand. The pain hit—