Chapter 4

Rafe's surrender pass had carried the northern commander's blood and the council's seal. It was the only thing that could've kept Lucian's soldiers from cutting him down.

He'd burned it ten minutes ago.

For me.

"There was an east passage," he said. "Before I locked it."

The gate shook again. Stone dust sprinkled over my hair.

I stared at him. "So you trapped us."

"I trapped them outside."

"You trapped me in here with you."

Rafe stepped closer.

His black coat was torn at the shoulder. Blood ran beneath the leather straps across his ribs. Wounded or not, he still took up the whole corridor. His body blocked the inner doors, and when he leaned down, his breath brushed my cheek.

"You're my captive," he said. "Did you forget?"

I lifted the key between us. "And you're my jailer. If we die in your fortress, I take that title with me."

His mouth twitched. It wasn't a smile. It was sharper than that.

"You won't die."

"That's what men say right before they get women killed."

Another impact slammed through the keep. The stone cracked beneath my boots.

Men shouted beyond the walls. Metal scraped over metal.

Then Lucian's voice carried through the gatehouse, calm and smug.

"Commander Valko! Hand over the assassin, and the council will record your cooperation. Resist, and we'll add treason to her charges."

Rafe turned toward the sound.

"Lucian," I whispered.

His head snapped back. "You know him?"

"He signed the order that put a price on my head."

Rafe's eyes narrowed. "You said you were working alone."

"I was."

"Then why does an inquisitor know your name?"

"Maybe I made an impression."

His hand caught my jaw before I could turn away.

His fingers were hot and rough from sword work. He forced my face up. His thumb settled beside my pulse.

"Try that joke again."

The bond beneath my skin tightened. Not quite pain. More like a cord pulling from his blood to mine.

I knocked his wrist away. "Take your hand off me."

"Tell me what Lucian wants."

"My head."

"He could've demanded that from the start."

"He did. You were too busy claiming me in front of your entire court to listen."

Rafe's gaze dropped to my mouth for half a second.

That tiny pause hit harder than it should've. His thumb had stopped near my pulse. The leather of his coat brushed my sleeve, and heat slipped through the thin fabric between us.

"I didn't claim you for the court," he said.

I laughed. "No? You crushed my knife, dragged me to your feet, and pressed my bleeding thumb onto a debt bond while everyone watched. What would you call it? A warm introduction?"

"Protection."

"That's a pretty word for a chain."

The gate shook again.

Rafe released me and reached for the war hammer strapped across his back. The weapon was too large for most men to lift with one hand. He carried it like it weighed nothing.

"Stay behind me."

"No."

His eyes hardened. "You don't get to argue while my soldiers are dying upstairs."

"Then don't drag me into the fight like a piece of property. Give me a weapon."

"You already have one."

I looked down at the key. "This opens a door. It doesn't kill anyone."

"It opens the vault."

That stopped me.

The vault door waited at the end of the corridor, banded in black iron and marked with the commander's seal. Behind it sat the fortress weapons, the council records, and the sealed orders brought from the capital.

Including the decree that had slaughtered my pack.

Rafe caught the change in my face.

"There it is," he said. "That's what you came for."

I closed my fist around the key. "You don't know anything about why I came."

"You crossed three provinces to kill me in my own court. You missed my heart by an inch. Then you tried to bite through your own tongue before my guards could question you."

"You noticed."

"I notice everything that enters my fortress."

"Then notice this."

I stepped into him until the hammer's handle pressed between us.

"If that decree is in the vault, I'm taking it. If you stop me, your precious debt bond won't save you from what I do next."

His fingers closed around my waist.

Not hard enough to bruise. Hard enough to remind me he could.

"You think you can threaten me while wearing my mark?"

"I think I can cut your throat while wearing it."

His breath warmed my lips.

"You keep talking about my throat."

"You keep putting it in reach."

For one stupid second, neither of us moved.

The keep roared around us. His hand stayed at my waist. My pulse beat against the silver poison burning through my veins, and the bond answered from his skin.

Then a bolt punched through the murder slit above us.

Rafe shoved me down.

The silver-tipped bolt buried itself beneath his collarbone.

He dropped to one knee with a sharp grunt. Black blood spread across his shirt.

"Rafe!"

"Don't touch me."

He snapped the shaft with one hand and tried to stand. The silver head stayed lodged in his chest.

Another bolt clanged off the wall.

I grabbed his arm. "You can't fight like that."

"Watch me."

"You're bleeding silver."

"I know what silver does."

His knees buckled.

I caught him before he hit the floor. His weight crashed into me, hot and heavy. Iron filled my mouth. His fingers dug into my shoulder as he tried to push away.

"Let go," he growled.

"Stop pretending you can stand."

"I don't pretend."

"You're leaning on me."

His forehead nearly touched mine. His breath came rough against my cheek.

"If you wanted me on my knees, assassin, you could've asked."

"Keep talking and I'll make the wound worse."

"There she is."

His blood soaked through my glove. The bond pulled tight, a hot line running from my palm to the wound in his chest.

I felt his pain.

Not all of it. Enough.

The silver was moving through him, draining the strength from his limbs. His heartbeat stumbled beneath my fingers.

"Give me your hand," I said.

Rafe stared at me. "Why?"

"Because the contract is pulling from both of us."

"You don't know how to use it."

"Neither do you."

His jaw flexed.

"Vera—"

"Give me your hand, or you fall here and Lucian takes us both. Pick one."

That landed.

His gaze cut to the vault door, then back to me.

"You'd save me?"

"Don't make it romantic. I need you alive long enough to open that vault."

"You need my strength."

"I need your body between me and the men trying to cut my head off."

His mouth pulled at one corner. "Better."

He shoved his hand into mine.

The contact hit like a blade of heat.

His palm swallowed mine. His fingers locked around my knuckles, and the bond flared beneath our skin. Red lines flashed over his wrist and crawled up my arm.

Rafe sucked in a breath. "What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"You gave me your hand."

"I gave you a hand, not permission to tear through my blood."

The silver poison surged toward the bond. It struck the contract and recoiled.

My blood answered before I could stop it. A sharp sting split my palm. Fresh blood ran over our joined fingers.

Rafe's eyes went dark.

"Vera, break contact."

"No."

"That isn't an order."

"Good, because I wasn't planning to obey."

I pressed my bleeding palm over the bolt wound.

Rafe jerked against me. A low sound tore from his throat. His free hand slammed against the wall beside my head, trapping me between his arm and chest.

His face was inches from mine now. Blood ran over his throat. His breath shook against my mouth.

"You don't know what you're doing," he said.

"I know you're dying."

"The silver will burn you too."

"Then stop making me hold you up."

"You should run."

"Where? You locked every gate."

"The vault has a lower exit."

"And you were going to tell me that when? After I signed away the rest of my life?"

His eyes dropped to the blood joining our hands.

"The bond isn't only debt anymore."

My stomach tightened. "What does that mean?"

He looked up at me.

"It means if I die, you feel it."

"And if I die?"

His grip tightened around my hand.

"I feel that too."

That should've scared me more than it did.

Instead, his thumb moved once over my knuckles. Small. Careful. Almost gentle.

I hated him for it.

I hated that the contract had made his heartbeat part of mine.

"Pull the bolt," he said.

I stared at him. "What?"

"Pull it out."

"Silver is lodged in your chest."

"Yes."

"That's not a plan."

"It's the only one we have."

"If I pull it, you may bleed out."

"Then keep your hand on me."

The words slid under my skin.

"You trust me with your life now?"

"No."

"Good."

"I trust the pact."

Outside, Lucian shouted, "One more strike! Break the inner doors!"

Rafe's head turned toward the voice. His face sharpened.

"Do it."

I wrapped my fingers around the broken shaft.

"If you bite me, I swear—"

"You talk too much."

"And you bleed too much."

I pulled.

The silver head tore free.

Rafe's body slammed into mine. His teeth caught my shoulder through the leather, close enough to send heat racing up my neck. Blood burst from the wound and spilled over my hand.

The bond snapped tight.

Power rushed through him, then into me. My knees almost folded. Rafe caught me around the waist and held me upright as the wound sealed beneath our joined palms.

His lips brushed the side of my neck.

Not a kiss.

A warning.

Or a promise.

"You still standing?" he asked.

I shoved his face away. "You first."

He straightened.

Color returned to his face. The silver darkened and dropped from the wound like a crushed bead. Rafe rolled his shoulder once, then reached for the war hammer.

I held out my hand. "Give it to me."

He stared. "You can't lift it."

"Try me."

"Vera."

"You said the pact connects us. If your strength is in my blood now, stop wasting time explaining it."

His gaze dragged over my face, then down to my hand.

The hammer landed in my grip.

Its weight nearly pulled my arm from its socket. I gritted my teeth and planted both feet.

Rafe stepped behind me, close enough that his chest brushed my back. His hand closed over mine on the handle. Heat pressed through my coat. His mouth came near my ear.

"Don't swing at the door."

"I know how doors work."

"Aim for the left hinge."

"Then stop breathing on my neck."

"You're shaking."

"You're touching me."

"You asked for my strength."

"I asked for the hammer."

"Same thing now."

The contract burned between our hands.

Together, we lifted.

Rafe guided the motion, but I drove the strike.

The hammer crashed into the left hinge. Iron screamed. The vault door buckled inward.

A guard rushed through the gap from the other side.

His sword came straight for my throat.

Rafe tried to pull me back, but I moved first. I twisted beneath the blade, brought the hammer around, and smashed it into the guard's ribs.

The impact threw him into the stone wall.

He slid down, gasping.

I stood over him, both hands locked around the hammer.

"You should've stayed outside."

He reached for a dagger.

I brought the hammer down.

The corridor went still for half a heartbeat.

Rafe's fingers closed around my shoulder.

"Move."

"Was that praise?"

"That was an order."

"Try asking."

He turned me toward the broken vault. His face was inches from mine again, his blood drying on my palm, his hand hot through my sleeve.

"Please move before the next one reaches you."

I blinked.

He used the opening to drag me inside.

The vault shelves shook as the keep took another hit. Sealed scrolls spilled across the floor. Metal cases snapped open. A stack of black-bound records slid from a shelf and burst at our feet.

Rafe kicked the broken door shut behind us.

"How long?" I asked.

"Not long."

"That's not a number."

"Three minutes if the gate holds. One if it doesn't."

"Then stop standing there. Where are the council orders?"

His eyes cut toward the far wall. "Top shelf. Red seals."

I crossed the room, stepping over scrolls and loose blades. The shelves rattled beneath my hands.

"These?"

"No. Those are tax records."

"You keep tax records in a war vault?"

"The council hides everything behind paperwork."

"That explains how they buried my pack."

Rafe went still.

I reached for another bundle. "Don't look at me like that. You knew what they did."

"I knew the council signed a purge order."

"You knew?"

"I didn't know your pack was named in it."

My fingers stopped over the red wax.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"No."

"Good."

He came up behind me. His hand closed around my wrist before I could break the seal.

The heat of his body pressed against my back. His chest brushed my shoulder blades with every breath. His mouth hovered near my ear, but his grip stayed careful.

"Don't open that one."

I looked at the red seal. The mark stamped into it was the same wolf's head I'd seen burned into the order that condemned my people.

"You said the decree was here."

"I said the council records were here."

"You knew."

"Vera—"

"You knew exactly what I'd find."

His thumb pressed against my pulse.

The bond tightened between us.

"I knew the order was sealed with my father's mark," he said. "I didn't know what was inside."

"And now?"

His eyes locked on mine over my shoulder.

For the first time since we'd entered the vault, Rafe looked afraid.

Not for himself.

For what was under my hand.

"Now I know why Lucian came for you before the fortress fell."

The gate boomed behind us.

I turned the scroll over. A second seal showed beneath the first—black wax, stamped with the commander's mark.

My blood went cold.

"What does that seal mean?"

Rafe's grip tightened.

"It means the order wasn't only about your pack."

"Then what was it about?"

He reached for the scroll.

I caught his hand and held it away. "Don't."

"You don't understand what you're opening."

"Then explain it."

"I can't. Not here."

"Not here? Men are breaking down the door, Rafe. When exactly were you planning to tell me?"

The next strike hit.

The vault door groaned.

Rafe stepped closer, his body boxing me against the shelf. His breath warmed my cheek. His fingers slid from my wrist to my palm, covering the blood still shining over our joined skin.

"If you read that decree," he said, "you won't be able to go back to the woman who walked into my court."

"I stopped being her when your council slaughtered my pack."

"No. You stopped being her when you put your hand in mine."

The bond flared.

The red seal cracked beneath my thumb.

Rafe caught my wrist. "Vera, don't open it unless you're ready to see—"