Chapter 21 · The Bloodlock Chest

The brand was still smoking when they dumped him on the furs.

Two wardens. They didn't look at me. They didn't look at him either. They just backed out of the bedchamber like the room was on fire, and the lock slammed from the outside.

The real fire was in the hearth. Pine coals, orange and sulking. The heat sat on my skin like a wet hand.

Vane lay on his back with his tunic ripped open. That brand ran across his chest in a jagged black line, right over his heart. The edges were puckered and weeping. It wasn't a scar. It was a sentence.

I told myself I didn't care.

I stood there for a full minute telling myself that.

"Vane." I kept my voice flat. "Vane, get up."

Nothing. His chest rose in short, ugly pulls. Sweat ran off his jaw. His fingers twitched against the fur like he was still fighting somebody.

Good, I thought. Stay down.

Because I had a plan, and it was the first one I'd had in days. The Alpha's seal. Every gate tunnel in this fortress opened to that seal, and Vane kept it somewhere close.