Chapter 16 · The Oath

"Don't you dare move, Milo. Not one inch," Lena hissed, her voice barely a thread of sound. She had him pinned against the cold damp brick of the alleyway, the muzzle of her sidearm pressed firmly into the soft dip of his jaw.

"I'm not moving! I can't even breathe, for God's sake," Milo gasped. He could feel the heat radiating off her, the scent of ozone and expensive Guild soap clashing with the stench of old grease on his own skin.

Inside his chest, the engine didn't just hum—it screamed. It was a vibration that rattled his ribs, a hungry, metallic roar that wanted out. The sigils carved into his skin were beginning to glow a violent, bruised purple, bleeding light through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"Quiet it down," she commanded, her eyes narrowing. She was so close he could see the golden flecks in her iris, the way her pupils dilated with a mix of fear and fascination. "If the Hounds pick up that frequency, we're both dead. I'm not going back to a cell because you can't control your toy."

"It's not a toy! It's... it's talking to me," Milo managed to choke out.