Chapter 17 · The Rift Between Us

"Calian, let go of me!"

The silver blade answered before he did.

It yanked my hand toward the split altar, dragging my boots across the stone. The cut in my palm burned where my blood had touched its edge. Across from it, the black blade pulled Calian in the opposite direction, both weapons straining between us like two chained beasts.

Calian caught my wrist.

His fingers locked around me, hot and hard, but the blade kept pulling. Our shoulders slammed together. His chest hit my back, and his breath tore across the side of my neck.

"I said let go," I snapped.

"No."

"You don't get to order me around while a cursed sword is trying to tear my arm off."

"Then stop fighting me."

"I'm fighting the blade. You're the one crushing my wrist."

His grip loosened by half an inch.

The silver weapon jerked again.

Pain shot from my palm to my elbow. I bit down on a scream and drove my free hand into Calian's ribs.

He didn't move.

"That all you've got?" he growled.

"I'm saving the good hit for when you're actually useful."

His mouth tightened. "You want useful? Hold still."

"You first.